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“Good answer. Now, come see my dad before he storms down here and gives us crap for getting distracted.”
I nod, but nerves swirl. Being summoned to your agent’s office at 5:00 p.m. on a Sunday isn’t really the best sign. The entire way here, I was trying to rack my brain for anything that I’ve done or said in the past few days to get me in shit, but nothing has stood out.
I’ve been a good boy, so to speak.
“Do you know what this is about?” I ask Braxton when we start toward the staircase. She moves up in front of me, suddenly way too tense. “Brax?”
“No. We haven’t talked much since you guys got back from the draft.”
That was a month ago. Knowing that the Heights usually have family dinners every Tuesday and Saturday night, I’m not sure whether I completely believe that. But this is my best friend. We don’t keep secrets.
“He hasn’t been happy? I’ve felt like I’m on cloud nine since we got back. I’m not so sure about the heat in Florida, but I’m nothing if not willing to try new things.”
That makes her laugh, albeit a bit forcefully. “You? Willing to try new things?”
We reach the second floor, and my stomach tumbles the closer we get to her father’s office. “Your sarcasm is so hurtful.”
“I’m not the one who refuses to try strawberry milk because chocolate is good enough or goes green at the idea of buying a pair of Adidas sneakers instead of Nikes.”
I scoff. “All I’m saying is why change a good thing? I love chocolate milk and Nikes. Why mess that up?”
“It’s just milk and shoes. It’s not like shaving your head or waxing your eyebrows.”
“I actually think I could be down for waxing my eyebrows. They’re a bit bushy these days.”
She giggles and stops in front of a closed door, looking over her shoulder at me. I memorize the sight of her timid grin and rosy cheeks.
“Your eyebrows are fine,” she says.
I kiss the side of her head. “Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart. Come on, let’s get this over with and then go get some ice cream. I’ve had a craving for a strawberry-cheesecake Blizzard from Dairy Queen since I woke up.”
She laughs softly, knocking on the door. “Dairy Queen it is, then.”
“Come in,” Roy orders, and I gulp as Braxton opens the door and we step inside the office. Her dad is sitting behind his desk, his usual scowl pulling at his mouth. “Please, sit.”
I collapse on the sofa and watch him cautiously. Braxton sits beside me, too far for my liking, but I know that’s all because of her dad. He’s never liked seeing us too close together. It’s always bugged me, but considering he’s fingers-deep in my NHL career, I’ve kept my mouth shut.
“Braxton, you don’t have to be here. I’m sure your mother would like some help with watering all those flowers of hers out back,” he says.
Suspicion blares, and my hackles rise. Clearing my throat, I say, “I would prefer her here, actually.”
“I can go, Maddox. It’s okay.” Braxton starts to rise from the couch, but I lightly grab her wrist, stopping her.
“Stay. Please.”
She sits back down.
“Very well,” her dad grinds out. His hands are clasped and resting on his desk, and my eyes are drawn to the lack of wedding band on his left hand.
My parents have been married for nearly twenty years, and I’ve never seen either of them without their wedding rings. Their marriage has been happy—more than, really—but Braxton’s parents have not had the same type of relationship. They’re married on paper, nothing more.
“I want to discuss something with you, Maddox. Something that I think will be beneficial to your career in the long run, not just the present,” Roy starts. I nod once. “Florida isn’t where you belong. I think you know that just as well as I do.”
“I never pictured myself in Florida, but it’s not like I would be stuck there forever,” I say.
“Right. But in that time, who’s to say you don’t get injured? Your father was injured early in his career.”
I sit up straighter at the mention of Dad. “My dad played for his dream team and gave a thousand percent of himself every single game for years. What happened to him was unlucky. The odds of that happening to me are low.”
