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Me:

Snuck my phone into the rink

Send me a picture of you in our bed…

Without clothes. The way I left you this morning...

Sunshine:

Get back to practice!

I swear, if Monroe trades me to another team because you’re sexting me…

Me:

I’d follow you.

I told you. I’m keeping you.

FORTY-FOUR

ARIELLA

“IS THAT A GOAT?”

My insides felt like a tsunami, the water getting sucked out to sea before pummeling the beach.

“Planning on chewing through your lip there, Contreras?” Monroe asked. The question wasn’t quite a green light to sit in the chair in front of his desk and talk about personal issues, but I treated it as such.

“I did something, and I’m not sure how it’s going to go over.”

He raised a brow, pulling his attention from the computer. “Wow, that wasn’t vague as shit. Yes? Like what the fuck are you expecting from me with that information?”

I groaned, head hitting the polyester fabric on the chair’s back. “I may or may not have had another jersey made for Dalton and threw out his old one.”

Oh look, the urge to throw up was back.

Three full blinks. That was how many it took to get a response. Monroe wasn’t pleased. “The fuck do you mean you threw out his jersey? We get on a plane for our season opener in like an ho⁠—”

“I put Thatcher on the back,” I blurted out, copper filling my mouth because I really was chewing a hole in my bottom lip.

Monroe’s face blanked before blooming into an honest-to-good smile. It was brief, but I witnessed it.

“Thatcher.” He stared at me for a moment, then gave a curt nod. “Listen, whatever the consequences are for that stunt, because you know there will be, you’ve got my support.”

“Yeah. I know.”

And I did. His father was not a fan of mine, and I wasn’t a fan of his. But unlike him, I cared about his son. Dalton deserved to see what it was like for someone to care about him. To realize he already had all the love and support he needed, and that his sperm donor was nothing but a leech.

“That was the name that should have been on his back the entire time. That kid is like a younger brother to me, and—” he paused, staring at his hands. “Dalton has a heart of gold. Cares for people in a way that is genuine. Sees the best in people. Even those who don’t deserve it… so be patient with him if you see him accepting shit behavior he shouldn’t. Maybe you can show him how to stick up for himself, too.”

The words come tumbling out before I could stop them. “I’m pretty sure his dad propositioned me.”

Monroe’s eyes flew to mine. I’d been wrong. He didn’t walk around with a scowl, this was a scowl and it was borderline terrifying. “I want you to be very careful, and very specific, with what you’re about to say, Ariella. What makes you think that?”

I bristled at his tone, wishing I could tell him to forget about it and move on, but it was clear that wasn’t going to happen. The air was cold in my lungs as I took a deep breath. “I saw him in the hallway outside of Dalton’s apartment. He asked me if I was going to be a distraction for Dalton. Make him stray from the plans Vincent has for his son.” The lines between Monroe’s brows deepened with each word, but he sat there still as a statue. “He told me Emma and he had an arrangement, and he could give me all of my dreams if I fell in line.”

That made him react. He scoffed, running his hand down his face, muttering what sounded an awful lot like “piece of shit.”