“Shut up,” she said without looking up at me, but I didn’t miss the way her cheeks turned red.
I chuckled, unlocking my phone and thumbing through the texts quickly. There was, indeed, a few from Giana telling me that sponsorship offers were rolling in and she wanted to meet tomorrow to discuss. She also asked if it would be possible tonotflash my goods for the whole world to see next time.
There was a text from Richard Bancroft, too. He was giddy to report that we’d already sold out every suite in the arena for the first seven home games. He was expecting some high-profile guests to be in attendance.
Carter had added me to a group chat with the guys, and there were about a dozen texts from them ranging from dick jokes to not-so-subtle pleas for details of what the fuck was going on.
But all those texts faded to the background when I saw a missed one from Mia’s father.
Charlie Conaway:Hello, son. Been a while since we chatted. Got some time this weekend?
My asshole clenched at the sight of the text, which to anyone else would have seemed pleasant enough. But I knew Charlie. I knew that behind his love and respect for me as a hockey player and as a man, there was a fierce layer of protection over his daughter.
And I had a feeling that — whether he knew it was fake or not — he wasnothappy about the photos circulating online at the moment.
“Gopferdami,” I muttered under my breath before texting him back that I could talk tomorrow.
“What?” Mia asked.
I let out a sigh, tossing my phone face down on the counter once I’d shot off the text and ignored the rest. “Nothing. Just pretty sure your father is preparing to skin me alive.”
“Dad texted you?” Mia waved me off. “Oh, he’s fine. He and Mom are both aware of the situation. I’m sure he’s just pulling your leg.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You two are so weird sometimes. He acts like the sun rises and sets with you when you’re not around, you know,” she pointed out. “Pretty sure he brags about you to his friends and co-workers more than his own Grammy-award-winning daughter.”
I didn’t respond, mostly because I wasn’t sure what to say. Charlie Conaway had saved my life in more ways than one. He’d given me a home, a ticket to a career that was otherwise out of reach, and a chance to make something of myself.
He didn’t just demand my respect — he’d earned it. There was no one in this world I wanted to make proud more than him.
But I also held a deep, confusing resentment for the man who had given me so much.
Because as much as he believed in me, as much as he maybe evenlovedme, he also saw me as a threat to his daughter.
He always had.
I cleared my throat, deciding tonight was not the night to dwell on any of it. I’d get my lashing from Charlie in the morning.
For now, I was alone with Mia, and I planned to make the most of it.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“Marci has some family who live in St. Pete, apparently. She’s going to dinner with them and then staying at their place tonight. James is asleep, I think, and Hunter is on guard. The rest of their team is on the perimeter.”
Suddenly, Mia’s stomach growled so loudly it overshadowed the thunder outside.
I arched an eyebrow as her cheeks turned pink.
“And what are your dinner plans?”
“A chef was supposed to come to the house, but I canceled her.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Not hungry.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, her stomach growled even louder.
