Page 98 of Daring the Defender

“We’re inside,” Nadia elbows me, “spill. What happened in Texas? With you and Reid.”

“I was shocked he came,” I admit. “Like, totally surprised.”

“But a good surprise?” She grins.

“Yeah, a really good one.”

As we walk down the long hallway, I give them the update. How I’d gone back to end the relationship once and for all and to tell my parents I was moving back East. How no one was happy about it, but then Axel showed up, and unbeknownst to me, Reid was waiting up in my room.

“I told him I love him. And he told me he wanted me to come back and stay at the Manor.”

“I bet he did.” Nadia is beaming. “Did you fuck him? In your parents house? I bet they would lose their minds.”

“Jesus, Nad!” Twyer glares at her friend. “You can’t just ask people things like that!”

I give a shrug, but there’s no hiding the smile threatening to expose me. I’d snuck into the guest room after everyone was asleep and Reid and I definitely made up.

“Oh yeah,” Nadia grins and holds up her hand for a high five, “you totally fucked him.”

I roll my eyes but slap her hand, marveling at this new life where we go to hockey games to support our boyfriends, wear their jerseys, and laugh and talk about sex, like it’s no big deal.

That’s what all of my new friends have taught me, Reid too. Sex isn’t something to be ashamed of, or kept secret. But it is still abigdeal, because of the way he makes me feel. I didn’t know that love and sex could be so intense until he showed me.

Uninterested in my love life and singularly focused on the game, Twyler surges forward leading us to an entrance to the lower level. The lights, the crowd, the energy is instantly overwhelming, and I take it all in as we climb a few rows to get to our seats.

Before I sit, I peel off my jacket and pull the oversized jersey over my head. The person behind me grins. “I love your jersey.”

“Thanks.”

That’s when I look around and take in the fans around me. Dotting through the crowd are pieces of the new, Reid created, swag.

“Holy crap, guys,” I poke Nadia in the shoulder, “look.”

Since we came in through Twyler’s side entrance, we didn’t see the merch being sold. But what I’m seeing goes far beyond a few T-shirts and jerseys. Reid’s design is on everything, hats, scarves, patches and bags. They’ve branded everything with his sassy retro badger, or the new font, including the little guy stitched onto a necktie, and the pattern of a button down shirt.

“This is amazing,” Twyler says. “I had no idea they were going to do this.”

Reid didn’t just design a T-shirt or something for a one time use, he’s created a new brand altogether.

A motion catches my eye, I look over and see Reid’s sister, Veronica waving at me. His parents are next to her, and two other young adults I recognize from photos Reid’s shown me. His family. Ronnie shouts my name, “Shelby!”

“Hi, Ronnie!”

She grins when I see her, and I also wave to his parents, which is a whole other can of worms I haven’t even processed. Do they know? What will they think?

That answer comes a little sooner than I expect. I’ve barely sat down, when I hear a shriek. We all turn around and see Ronnie with her eyes bugged, leaning over to one of her siblings and pointing. At me. It’s no secret that they’re discussing me and the jersey.

“Busted.” Nadia smirks. “Guess that’s one way to announce your relationship to his family.”

My cheeks burn red, but the pleased expressions on his parent’s faces tell me all I need to know. They approve.

Taking a deep breath I focus on the ice, where both teams are zipping back and forth. I’m a lot faster at finding the players now. My brother, covered head to toe in pads, hunched in the goal. Reese, with his captain's badge, commanding the players. Jefferson skating around the ice with unnatural grace, like his massive six-five frame and broad shoulders weigh nothing.

And then Reid. Number eight, seemingly focused on the ice, snaps his eyes up to the stands, directly at me. Adjusting his helmet, he lifts his chin and gives me a wink, before skating off to join his team.

And even though no one around me can tell, I swoon. Flat out swoon, because this man is the best thing that ever happened to me.

Wittmore doesn’t just win–theydominate.

---