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“No, that was Graciella’s.” I leaned back in my chair. “She said my attitude was shit and there was no way to get the press on my side with just me, so we needed to manufacture something they could get behind.”

“You like her.” It wasn’t a question.

“Who? Itzel? Yeah, she’s a nice girl, very respe⁠—”

“No.” She stared me down. “This Graciella woman. You like her.”

“Why do you think that?”

She gave me the same look she always did when I asked how she knew something I hadn’t told her. “You smiled when you said she told you your attitude is shit.”

The knot in my gut tightened, the way it did every time Graciella crossed my mind—which was more often than I wanted to admit.

“Wow, groundbreaking, Mom. Real hard-hitting investigation. I smiled, so that means I want to be with her.” I rolled my eyes, sweat prickling at the back of my neck.

“I didn’t say you wanted to be with her.” She propped her chin in her hands. “I said you liked her. I didn’t even say romantically. Could’ve meant platonically.” She paused. “But you don’t like her platonically, do you?”

She flashed a shit-eating grin—the same one from decades ago when I’d spent an entire week swearing I’d hate hockey, and she’d known better before I’d even laced up my first pair of skates.

The coarse hairs on my chin scraped across my palm, the sound filling the quiet. Momma sat there, patient, waiting for me to break. The longer I thought about it, the more I realized she and Graciella would probably get along terrifyingly well. Both of them loved putting me in my place.

She quirked a brow when the silence lingered.

“I don’t know how I feel about her.” I’d been actively avoiding that question since last week. The kiss had been something else. The thing that happened in the bathroom…it was all I’d thought about for days. Pushing it further would only complicate things more. “I slept in a bed with her at the Draft.”

“Whoa.” She held up both hands and leaned back. “Son, we’re close, and I’m glad you feel you can share things with me, but I already had the birds and bees talk with you, and you figured out how to have my Goldie, so I don’t need details on this part of your life.”

Heat crawled up my neck. “No, Mom—we didn’t have sex. I literally slept with her. Held her. Well, technically, she held me.”

She smiled, clearly pleased with that detail. Something about saying it out loud made it feel more real than I was comfortable with.

“I told her about the League and how they hung me out to dry. About Rachel…”

Her eyes widened. “Wow. You really do like this woman. You never talk about Rachel with anyone.”

Even her. She’d never pushed me on it, always respected the line I’d drawn around that part of my life—which was exactly why she understood what it meant that I’d crossed it with Graciella.

“So, if you’ve already opened up to her like that, what’s holdin’ you back?”

I huffed out a short laugh, skin feeling too tight.

Another question I’d been avoiding.

“Well, the League thinks I’m dating another woman. It wouldn’t exactly be a great PR move to blow that up by dating my PR handler.” It was a cop-out, and she called me on it immediately.

“That’s bullshit, Josh. You’ve never cared what they think. Now you do?”

“Yeah, Momma.” I gripped the arms of my chair. “Tommy told me I’d get the can if I can’t turn public opinion around. So no, I’m not risking my career and everything I can give Goldie over some woman.”

The words tasted wrong the second they left my mouth. Like ash.

Graciella wasn’t some woman. She’d already proven she wouldn’t put Goldie at risk either—not once, not even when it would’ve been easier.

“The face you just made told me everything I needed to know.”

I looked up, realizing I’d been staring at nothing.

“I don’t think you’d even consider being with someone who didn’t care for your daughter the way you do. It’s been nearly five years since she lost her mother, Josh, and in that time, you haven’t let a single person get close.”