Page 99 of Pucking Daddy

Then I reach for the front door, unlock it, and push it open.

We step inside the penthouse—and then just… stop.

For a moment, neither of us moves.

Her gaze lifts to mine. “Goodnight, Jaxon.”

Something in my chest tightens.

“Goodnight,” I echo.

I lean in slowly, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

Then we part ways, each heading to our own bedroom.

***

When I get up the next morning, I expect a normal day at the rink. Practice. Routine. Control.

But the relentless buzzing of my phone tells me otherwise.

Three missed calls from Simone. Two texts from Nate.

“Media’s picked it up. Big time.” Simone’s voice from the voicemail echoes in my head.

The plan had been to build a quiet narrative. Something controlled. Credible.

This? This is anything but.

Our appearance at the gala last night has clearly set something off.

By the time I step into the kitchen, Zara is already there, coffee in hand, scrolling through her phone. One look at her expression tells me everything I need to know.

“Bad?” I ask.

She exhales softly. “It’s… a lot.”

Yeah.

“Right,” I mutter.

Silence stretches for a beat.

Then—

“What do you need from me today?” she asks.

I look at her. God, she’s incredible.

“I think we have to lean into it now,” I say finally. “Meet the media storm head-on.”

“Okay. If you think that’s best, I trust you.”

“Then come with me to practice. They’ll be there. Reporters. Cameras. If we show up together—solid, united—it helps.”

She nods immediately. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Stay close,” I add. “Let me handle most of it.”