Page 125 of The Pucking Wrong Rookie

“My future wife,” he murmured, and I blinked, not expecting anything like that from him. Colt was one of my quieter teammates, but he was a fan favorite. Something about his black hair and blue eyes combined with his air of mystery…it made our female fans crazy.

“Sorry, what?”

“My wife,” he said simply, as if he hadn’t said anything crazy. “I’m pretty sure I’ve just found her.”

I glanced at Ari, who was on Colt’s other side, grinning at him like a loon as Colt pulled out his phone and zoomed in on a girl with dark hair with pink streaks that was about two rows back in the crowd.

“Total COT moment,” he mouthed to me over Colt’s shoulder.

I nodded.

Indeed.

* * *

Sloane

The parade had been a moment I would remember for the rest of my life. I hadn’t expected to enjoy it as much as I did, but the energy was contagious. Logan’s grin was wide, infectious, and I found myself caught up in the thrill of it all—cheering fans, confetti flying everywhere, and the sun beating down in that perfect, golden way that makes everything seem brighter than it is. I felt like I could actually let go for a moment. I laughed, I cheered with him, I even let myself dance on the float as the crowd roared for the Dallas Knights.

But then I saw him.

At first, it was just a blur, a figure on the sidewalk, another face in the sea of cheering fans. But then my gaze locked on him—Everett, standing there, staring straight at me. My chest tightened instantly, the familiar chill of fear crawling up my spine. His eyes were dark, cold, the same look that had always made me feel small. My heart lurched. It didn’t matter how much fun I’d been having; seeing him there, in the middle of the celebration, ripped me right out of it.

I froze. For a second, the noise of the crowd faded, drowned out by the thundering of my pulse in my ears. He didn’t move, didn’t wave—just stood there, watching. And that was worse. So much worse.

Because that couldn’t mean anything good for me.

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to look away, trying to plaster a smile back on my face. Logan was next to me, laughing, oblivious to the shift inside me. I had to keep it together. He couldn’t know. I couldn’t let this ruin the day for him.

But it was like the air had changed around me, everything suddenly too bright, too loud, too much. The float kept moving forward, but I was stuck in my head, trapped in the knowledge that my uncle was there, watching. Waiting.

I tried to fake it—tried to keep smiling, laughing when Logan cracked a joke, nodding when he said something to the crowd. But my chest felt tight, like I couldn’t get a full breath.

Logan caught my eye at one point, his grin fading as his gaze sharpened. He knew me too well. He could tell something had shifted.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but concerned, leaning in so I could hear him over the noise.

I forced a smile, hoping it was convincing enough. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…tired.”

His eyes stayed on me for a beat too long, and I knew he wasn’t buying it. But he didn’t push. Instead, he just nodded, but there was something behind it, something quiet but steady. “You know,” he said, his tone almost casual, but not quite, “someday I’m gonna earn your trust enough to know your secrets.”

The words hit harder than I wanted them to. I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to look away, pretending to be caught up in the crowd again. But I couldn’t shake what he said.

He’d already earned my trust, more than anyone else ever had. But there were things—things too deep, too painful—that I didn’t know how to share. Things that I wasn’t ready to let go of. Not yet.

Because they would ruin everything.

CHAPTER32

SLOANE

The ceiling above me was a familiar sight. I stared at it, my eyes tracing the same cracks in the plaster I’d memorized over countless sleepless nights before I’d met him. It was always the same. Hours would pass, and I’d lie there, my body restless, my mind refusing to quiet. I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in years—not until Logan.

I’d tried to come back to my place alone last night, but he’d insisted on coming with me, sensing something was wrong. I was acting crazy, but I couldn’t help it.

I tried turning on my side, then back again, bunching the pillow under my head, hoping the change would help. But nothing worked. What was Everett thinking? Why had he been there?

I should go talk to him. Cut the cord. I knew that.

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