Page 26

CHAPTER 25

EMERSON

The oppressive scent of my father’s cologne hits me before his words do. It's the same thick scent he wears to conduct, to berate me during practice sessions, to tower over me at family dinners. I grip the railing behind me. I don’t respond when he says we need to talk, but I glance at my mother. I don’t think I was expecting warmth in her expression necessarily, but I’m stunned to see the icy fury etched into her face.

My father gestures at my shirt—the one I love matching with my new friends. He says, “What kind of outfit is this? You look like a common groupie.” I don’t respond that he and my mother are actually the ones who stand out here, in their finery among casual sports fans. My parents are pinch-faced and broody while everyone else is excited to be here with their heroes.

My mother hovers at his elbow, wringing her hands. “You’ve completely let yourself go. Have you gained weight?”

I swallow my rage and the bile that rises at her hurtful words. “What are you doing here?” My voice sounds small, as if I’m the person I was before I hopped on that train.

My father’s jaw clenches. “The board meeting is tomorrow. We’ve spoken, and they’re willing to overlook your … indiscretions…if you return now. As you know, the symphony needs a fresh, young face to weather this storm.”

“I don’t want?—”

“What you want is irrelevant,” my father snaps, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “Look at yourself. I warned you this is what comes from women playing the cello. It’s indecent. Weeks spent spreading your legs for that instrument and some hockey player.”

My mother touches his arm. “That’s enough. Someone might hear.”

My heart pounds. I can hear it, feel it in my throat. I’m going to be sick as my father snarls, “Let them hear.” His face reddens. “Our daughter is debasing herself, living in sin with that overgrown?—”

“Is there a problem here?”

Gunnar’s voice cuts through my father’s tirade. My husband positions himself at my side, slightly in front of me. He appears casual, but I can feel the tension running through his tight body. Strength radiates from Gunnar in contrast to my father’s brittle anger.

“This is a private conversation.” My father straightens his tie. “Family business.”

"Your daughter is my wife," Gunnar's tone remains measured. "And you're making her uncomfortable."

"Wife?" Father scoffs. "That drunken Vegas spectacle hardly counts as?—"

"Security?" Gunnar raises his hand, and I notice two men in black shirts already approaching. "These people were just leaving."

"You can't dismiss me?—"

"Actually, I can. This is a private event, and you're harassing one of our VIP guests." Gunnar's smile is ice cold. “We don’t allow fans who disrespect our guests.”

Summoned by Gunnar’s mere wave, a pair of security guards appears and flanks my parents. Mom starts to protest, but Dad grabs her arm, shooting me a look of pure venom. "When you're done with this rebellion, don't expect?—"

"Get them out of here," Gunnar says quietly.

I watch them disappear into the crowd, my whole body trembling. Gunnar turns to me and cups my face in his massive hands. "Hey Salty, look at me. You're safe."

"I'm so sorry," I whisper. "I never thought they'd?—"

"Stop. You have nothing to be sorry for." His thumbs stroke my cheeks. "Listen to me. You don't owe them anything. Not your talent, not your time, not your life."

I lean into his touch, fighting tears. "But the board?—"

"Fuck the board.” He pulls me against his chest. "You're part of my team now, and I put my body on the line for my team every single day. Nobody gets to hurt you. Not even your parents."

I wrap my arms around his waist, breathing in his clean, familiar scent. Behind us, I hear the excited chatter of fans, the barking of puppies, and music pumping through speakers. This is my new world. This is my choice.

"Thank you," I murmur into his jersey.

He kisses the top of my head. "Always, Salty. Always."

"Let's get you back to the hotel." Gunnar keeps an arm around me while texting someone. Within moments, Cam and Essence appear, their faces tight with concern. Gunnar hands me a bottle of water and briefly explains to my friends what happened. I hate that they know I’m dealing with such an embarrassing scandal. I begin to protest, wanting them to be able to enjoy this event with Banksy and Cappy, who have now also made their way over to us along with Gunnar’s brothers. The twins, seeming to sense Gunnar’s rage, crack their knuckles menacingly.

Gunnar waves them back, keeping one arm tightly around my shoulders. “I have to stay for team stuff, but I don't want you alone." Gunnar's thumb traces circles on my shoulder as he appeals to Cam and Essence. "Would you guys mind...?"

"Of course not." Cam wraps me in a hug, pulling me away from Gunnar’s side. "We'll order room service and watch terrible movies."

Gunnar tips his chin in thanks and walks us to the edge of the festival space, pressing his forehead to mine. "I hate leaving you like this."

"I'm okay." My voice wavers. "Really."

"Liar." He kisses me softly. "I'll come straight up after the game. Don't argue—my brothers already cleared it with Coach."

"But you need rest?—"

"I need to hold my wife." His eyes are fierce. "I'll rest better knowing you're safe."

Essence appears with my purse and coat. "Car's here."

"Text me when you're settled?" Gunnar cups my face. "And Salty? I meant what I said. You don't owe them anything."

The Plaza is exactly as grand as I imagined, but I hardly notice the ornate lobby. Cam and Essence hustle me straight to my room, where they immediately start raiding the mini bar.

"Tiny expensive vodka?" Cam waves a bottle.

I shake my head, curling into the plush armchair. "I should stay clear-headed."

"Fair." Essence flops onto the bed. "But we're ordering every dessert on the menu."

"And watching The Princess Bride ," Cam adds. "Non-negotiable."

My phone buzzes with a text from Gunnar:

Miss you already, Salty. Try to rest. I'm coming for you after we win this thing.

I clutch the phone to my chest, overwhelmed by the contrast between my old family and this new one I've stumbled into. Cam and Essence chattering about room service options. Gunnar's promise to return. Even my growing collection of Stags who've been texting support since security escorted my parents out.

"Hey." Essence tosses me the room service menu. "Choose something decadent. Doctor's orders."

"You're not a doctor."

"No, but I play one on TV," she winks. "Seriously, though, you're safe here. Let us take care of you until your man gets back."

I frown at the menu and let it fall to the bed. “You two are missing your chance to see the Fury play. I hate that. I feel like such a burden.”

Essence holds up a finger. “I am exactly where I want to be, Emerson. These guys play 80 games in a season. Trust me, I’ll be at the next one.”

Cam nods and picks the menu up, shoving it toward me until I laugh.

I order chocolate cake and listen to them quote every line of the movie, slowly feeling the tension leave my body.

I feel my phone vibrate with another text from Gunnar:

About to warm up. You good?

I can feel his protective energy from here, and I really do feel better. I send back:

Safe and sound. Go win.

His response is immediate:

Always do when I'm playing for you.

I fall asleep during the movie, waking briefly when Cam tucks a blanket around me. "Rest up, sweetie. Your knight in shining goalie pads will be here soon."

For the first time since seeing my parents, I smile.