Page 82 of My Pucked Up Enemy

By the time I open my eyes, the tightness in my chest has loosened just a little.

"Better?" she asks.

"Yeah. You’re really good at this."

"I better be. You’re exhausting."

I laugh, low and grateful. "You like it."

"Don’t flatter yourself."

"Too late."

She smiles and shakes her head. "Go home, Chadwick. Take a nap or eat some food."

I grab my bag, stand slowly. "Hey, Nina?"

"Yeah?"

"I’m not letting you go. Not again."

Her lips part, but she doesn’t answer.

She doesn’t have to.

I walk out and for the first time since the puck hit the back of that net, I breathe.

Still cracked.

But not broken.

Chapter twenty-three

Nina

Iopentheemailforthe third time, as if the words will have changed since I last read them.

Subject: Official Offer – Senior Mental Performance Consultant, NHL League Office

It’s everything I’ve ever worked for and the kind of position that makes careers. National oversight, a staff of my own, league-wide influence. Honestly, there’s even a relocation package and a feature spot inThe Athletic’soff-season mental health roundtable.

But all I can think about is how my hands feel heavier than the words on the screen.

I should be celebrating. I should be dancing in my kitchen, popping a bottle of something cold and overpriced, calling my parents to say,Look, I made it.

Instead, I stare at my phone. No messages. No new texts. No Alex.

Except… he’s in my head anyway. His voice, low and ragged. "I’m not letting you go. Not again."

I close the laptop. Push it aside. Then grab my phone and hit Patty’s name before I can talk myself out of it.

She picks up on the second ring. "If this isn’t brunch plans, it better involve scandal or shopping."

"What if it’s both?"

"Now you have my attention. Spill."

I exhale, already regretting this. "Okay, but you have to swear you won’t say anything to anyone."

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