Page 83 of My Pucked Up Enemy

"Cross my heart."

"The NHL offered me a job. Big job. League-wide consultant. New York based. Top-tier position."

There’s a beat of silence, followed by a high-pitched squeal. "WHAT? Nina! That’s incredible! That’s, like… elite. Legendary. And very bougie."

"I know."

"So why do you sound like you just got sentenced to jury duty?"

I fall back on the couch, covering my face with one hand. "Because I haven’t told Alex. And also... we slept together at the retreat."

Another long pause.

"Wait—what?"

"It just… happened. And it wasn’t just sex. It was—"

"Real." Patty finished my sentence.

"Yeah. Real. And now I feel like the world’s dumbest mental health professional because I broke every boundary I set for myself and I can’t stop thinking about him."

Patty lets out a slow, knowing breath. "Well, shit."

"Yup."

"Okay, but wait—back up. When you say 'slept together,' are we talking steamy cabin hookup or full-on romantic movie montage vibes?"

I groan. "It was... steamy. And intense. And soft. And then he told me he wasn’t letting me go and now I want to either cry or jump him again, and instead I’m sitting here hiding a job offer from him like a total coward."

"Damn. That’s serious."

"I haven’t told anyone. Not even my parents."

"Why not? They’d be proud of you, wouldn’t they?"

"Maybe for the job. Definitely not for Alex. They wouldn’t approve of me getting involved with a player. My dad has this thing he always says, ‘Don’t shit where you eat.’"

"Charming."

"Yeah. And every time I think about telling them, I hear that voice in my head like I’ve already disappointed them."

"Nina," she says, softer now. "You’re allowed to want something for yourself. You don’t need permission to follow your heart. Or your career. But you do need to stop carrying it all alone."

"What if I tell Alex and he thinks I’m just bailing?"

"You’re not. You’re weighing the future. That’s called being a grown-up."

"Feels more like self-inflicted emotional surgery."

"Then you need stitches, not silence."

"There’s more," I admit. "I’m getting honored next week at the American Sports Psychological Association dinner for my work with the team and the military. All of it."

"Nina! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? That’s amazing. That’s huge."

"Because I didn’t want it to feel like bragging."

"It’s not bragging if you earned it. You’ve worked your ass off. You deserve to be seen."

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