Page 132 of Top Shelf

“Yeah.” His mouth twists bitterly. “Because God forbid either of us become actual people outside of what they planned.”

Silence settles briefly between us again.

Below, Lucian nearly drops an entire stack of folding chairs onto one of the equipment managers.

“You wanna know something funny?” Carson says eventually. “I think Mom and Dad genuinely convinced themselves I was supposed to take over the team.” He lets out a quiet laugh. “Meanwhile, everyone else could see it was never meant to be me.”

I frown slightly. “What do you mean?” In my mind, it was always meant to be him. That’s all Mom and Dad talked about—ever. Carson was going to take over the team, and I was going to marry someone with the right connections and enough zeros in their bank account, and produce lots of little babies to continue on the family line.

He turns toward me fully now, his expression unusually serious.

“Wren, I love hockey. Playing it. Living it. But all the front office shit?” He shakes his head. “I’d lose my damn mind doing what you did this weekend.”

“You say that now, but?—”

“No.” His tone sharpens slightly. “Listen to me.”

I fall silent.

“You were born for this.”

The words hit me hard enough that I physically stiffen. Not because of the statement itself, but because, for once, it doesn’t sound like pressure. Doesn’t sound like expectation.

It sounds…right.

“You see things other people miss,” he continues. “Youunderstand how all the moving parts connect. You know how to manage people without making them hate you.” He snorts. “Which already makes you more qualified than half the owners in the league.”

I laugh softly despite myself.

“But more than that?” His gaze sweeps over the arena below us. “You care.” Turning his head to capture me in his stark gaze, he adds, “I saw you today. You weren’t just running an event. You were watching every kid that walked through those doors. Every volunteer. Every player interaction. You wanted everyone here to have a good experience.”

Well, sure, because I know what it feels like to stand in a crowded room and still feel invisible.

“You make people feel seen, Wrenny.”

Emotion clogs unexpectedly in my throat.

Carson leans back slightly in his seat. “That matters in this business more than people realize.”

I stare out over the rink again, my thoughts loud and tangled.

“I just…” I swallow hard. “I don’t know how to separate what I want from what they want.”

“That’s easy.”

I glance over at him skeptically. “It is?”

“Yes.” He points toward the arena below us. “Did they force you to care about this?”

No.

“Did they force you to stay up until three in the morning fixing sponsorship packages because you wanted the event to succeed?”

No.

“Did they force you to smile like a maniac every time one of those kids got excited today?”

I huff out a reluctantlaugh. “Maybe.”