So does he.
Chapter thirty
Jax
Riley’soffice.EightAM.
She’s already there when I walk in. Notebook open, coffee untouched. I take the chair beside her.
Riley clocks it. Doesn’t comment.
Forty minutes later, everyone in the room wants the same thing: clean lines, contained damage, language that doesn’t invite more questions.
My PR rep wants the hockey angle. Nova’s editor wants the journalist angle. Riley wants something she can keep from turning into a wildfire.
Separate statements. Separate positions. Separate problems.
Nova and I don’t give them that.
We agree to one thing.
No apology. No distance.
We nod. We stand. We leave.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Not because everything’s fine.
Because it isn’t.
Brody finds me at practice.
“Hey.” He falls into step beside me in the hall. “So I was thinking—”
“Don’t.”
“Hear me out—”
“Brody.”
“What if I just like — break Carson Webb’s nose. Fully and completely. As a gift.”
For half a second, I consider it.
Not because I need Brody doing my dirty work.
Because there is a very real part of me that would like to put Carson Webb through a fucking wall and spend five uninterrupted minutes making sure he understands exactly how badly he crossed the line.
Then I remember cameras exist.
And lawyers.
And playoffs.
And Nova doesn’t need me making myself the headline.
“No,” I say.
