Page 67 of Daring the Defender

I realize that I have no freaking clue. My one and only relationship was orchestrated by our parents.

I’m still thinking about it when we walk into the arena, until Nadia says, “So are you sad to be leaving next week?”

I miss a step, coming to a stop. “Next week?”

“That’s when Axel said you’re heading back home, right?” Nadia looks at Twyler who just shrugs.

“Right. Yes.” I laugh nervously. “I just totally spaced on it.”

I didn’t just space on it. I completely blocked it out. I’d just gotten used to being here, used to my job and living on my own.

Used to having a man treat me the way Reid does.

“I wish I could stay longer,” I confess, “but my mother would lose her mind if I didn’t come home as expected.” And predictably fall back into the role of Shelby the Preacher’s Daughter. The Good Girl.

I shiver at the thought, knowing now that those words can carry a very different weight.

“We’ll make the best of it while you’re still here,” Nadia says as we approach the arena. Twyler peels off and heads back to the locker room with the guys, while Nadia and I check in at the table out front.

“We’re here as guests of Axel Rakestraw,” Nadia says, giving our name to the volunteer. “Nadia Beckwith and Shelby Rakestraw.”

“Your names are on the list,” the guy says, checking us off his list. “You’ll each get a jersey with the number on the back of the player you’re representing along with vouchers for food at the snack bar. You can grab your skates from the equipment manager down by the ice. Have fun.”

“Skates?” I ask as we walk away.

“Oh yeah, part of the day is skating with the kids and players.” She glances over at me. “You don’t want to?”

“I’ve never ice skated before.” We walk down the stairs toward the ice. The rink is already crowded with swarming kids, some more proficient than the others. The ones not hanging onto the wall, or wobbling across the ice, zip around wildly, making me even less inclined to get in the middle of it. I’d probably not only break my neck but one of theirs too. “Ice rinks were few and far between in Texas.”

“You never went with Axel?”

I laugh. “Gosh, no. Mother wouldn’t have me anywhere near something like that. I was probably at cotillion or choir rehearsal.”

“Well, now’s your chance.” She drops her bag on one of the benches and pulls her shirt out. I do the same, finally getting a good look at the jerseys Reid designed.

“Damn,” Nadia says, looking it over and giving an approving nod. “Reid killed it with the design.”

I know nothing about hockey designs or logos, but I can tell there’s a vintage vibe. The current Wittmore Badger logo is just an illustration of the animal’s face, but the design Reid worked up is a full body, mid-strut. A fluid retro ‘W’ for Wittmore is stitched across the chest. It’s simple, but fun. I can see why the PR department approved of it.

I tug mine over my head, lifting my braid out from under the V-neck to rest on my shoulder. “How does it look?”

“Like you’re ready for your first skating lesson.”

I give the ice another wary look and she sighs, “Come on, Shel, Axel will be so excited for you to be out there.”

Just as we get to the equipment manager, Axel skates up, grinning at the both of us. His jersey is similar but different, the primary color black, where ours are purple. “You made it,” he says, leaning over the wall and planting a quick kiss on Nadia’s mouth. “And representing 01.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m representing myself,” I tell him, jabbing a thumb at the name on my back.

“Fair.” He reaches out and yanks my braid hard.

“Hey!” I spin away. “Don’t be a jerk.”

“Maybe you should stop acting like a baby!” He lunges, planning on messing with me again, but a body moves between us.

A large,malebody that smells amazing.

“Do I need to separate you two?”

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