Page 24

AURORA

Ethan and I don’t talk much, just a few daily texts and a call here and there. It feels odd compared to Jackson, who constantly needs attention, but I tell myself he’s busy, making his first season remarkable and dealing with Jax’s public relapse.

So I’m surprised when my phone buzzes with a FaceTime request in the middle of the afternoon when I’m about to nap on the couch.

“Hey, baby!” Ethan’s face transforms into a grin that lights up his spectacular gray eyes.

He’s wearing a tie, beard neatly trimmed, and behind him is a whiteboard of hockey jargon, once again reminding me of his dedication.

“Hey, yourself. This is rare. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“The pleasure is all mine, but I, ah, unfortunately need my overpaid captain, and the pain in the ass is not answering my calls.”

“You didn’t even call to talk to me ?” I pout and feign outrage. “And here I was, missing you.”

“Yes, I did, you little brat.” He traces his thumb along his bottom lip, the corners of his mouth betraying a pleased smile. “But this is kind of urgent.”

I roll my eyes—only because I know it irritates him—and yell into the kitchen, “Jax! Your boyfriend is on the phone!”

Ethan grumbles something about me regretting my attitude as Jackson saunters into the living room, wearing loose basketball shorts and a T-shirt. He returned his rental car this morning and brought his bags in while I worked. I should’ve locked him out, but honestly, I’m sick of being miserable.

Fucking Jackson and my damn bleeding heart.

I peer up at the man in question. “Coach wants to talk to you. He’s on FaceTime.”

He sits next to me and greets Ethan with, “Hey, fucker.”

Then, to my utter astonishment, he effortlessly lifts me onto his lap, wraps an arm around me, and takes the phone.

It shouldn’t surprise me that Jackson has resumed our relationship as if nothing occurred, caressing my baby bump and planting gentle kisses on my neck while I struggle to keep my walls up.

“I got some bad news.” Ethan rakes his fingers through his thick, wavy hair. “The league made their decision. Twenty. Games.”

“Holy fuck. What happened to four games for first-time offenders?”

Ethan gives him a pointed stare. “You know very well this isn’t your first offense.”

Jax waves him off. “First official offense. The board knows no different.”

“They do. People talk, and you don’t have…” Ethan trails off.

“The protection of my father?” Jackson finishes with an arched brow.

“Or,” I cut in, “Kyle is in their ear, and he’s pressing you.”

Clenching and unclenching his jaw, Jax nods in contemplation. “Twenty games is a killer for the team.”

“Kyle did tell me to enjoy my last season.” Ethan rolls his lips. “A disastrous first year is sure to put me on the chopping block.”

The three of us fall silent, and I hang my head. If this suspension hurts the team and Ethan, Jackson will break. He’ll give in to Kyle and return to LA, promising things won’t change between us, then grow cold. It happens every time. Kyle always finds a way to get what he wants.

Waves of nausea churn my stomach. My cheeks warm, and my eyes well up.

I twirl the frayed edge of my sweatshirt and focus on taking deep, slow breaths. Collecting myself, I swallow the lump in my throat and blink away the tears. My gaze lands on Jackson’s hand cradling my abdomen, fixating on the tattoo on his ring finger.

Daylight.

I trace the words, the ink still raised and fresh.

Rough stubble grazes my cheek before the raspy sound of his voice fills my ear.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he repeats until I glance up, his brilliant green eyes mirroring my torment. “You’re my daylight. Always. I’ll fix this.”

Yeah, that’s precisely what I’m worried about, but before I can express my concerns, he turns to Ethan. “You want me to negotiate with Kyle? Get him to talk to the board?”

Ethan recoils. “Fuck, no. I have a plan. I’m appealing, meeting with the president, and even if he won’t reduce your suspension, I can coach.” He smirks, full of confidence that borders on arrogance.

I can’t stop the chuckle that bubbles up. “You definitely have a knack for being assertive and achieving your goals.”

That smug smile spreads into a knowing grin. “I always get what I want. Remember that.”

They discuss the appeal and other hockey nonsense, and I rest against Jackson’s chest, my eyelids growing heavy, this baby urging me for a nap.

Jax clears his throat, jolting me from my sleepy state. “Since we’re all together, I’d like to chat about the bodyguard. I propose we get rid of him. He’s not needed while I’m here, and I’ll be here a while.”

The lighthearted mood crumbles, and I turn sharply to face him. “Where the hell is this coming from?” I shake my head. “No.”

Green eyes narrow, full of baseless suspicion. “Why?”

“You’ve been here for a whole five minutes. I’m not tossing my friend aside because you’ve returned.”

Ricky was here for me when no one else was, and call me crazy, but I don’t trust Jax yet, not while Kyle is putting pressure on him.

“You tossed Emily out without a problem.”

“When my bodyguard stares at your dick, then we’ll talk.”

“Aurora, watch the attitude,” Ethan interrupts.

I glare at him. “No.” I can’t explain why I’m being so resistant—maybe I’m overtired—but giving Ricky up is out of the question. “He’s not waltzing back into my life and telling me to get rid of people.”

Jackson chokes, his eyes widening. “The fact that you’re so defensive and attached to him is reason enough.”

His voice is raised, and he’s doing this in front of Ethan for a reason, hoping to gain support by playing on Ethan’s strict side—and it’s working.

“He’s got a point, Aurora,” Ethan agrees. “Listen for once.”

My temper flares. Listen? My whole life, I’ve listened and minded others.

“Says the man whose wife called while we were in bed together. Don’t lecture me on other people until you block her from your phone.”

“She’s not my wife.” His words are clipped and sharp, his tone a low growl. “And don’t forget what happens when you run that smart mouth, baby girl.”

Done with this conversation, I break free from Jackson’s hold.

“Where are you going?” he asks with an offended scowl.

“To take a nap,” I say over my shoulder. “This is leading nowhere. I worked this morning, and you two are not telling me to fire my bodyguard.”