Page 71 of Daring the Defender

“Me or my teammates?” I ask, tugging at her ponytail. The teasing makes me think of Axel and Shelby earlier. Then just about Shelby. Damn. I can’t stop thinking about her.

“Are you sure I can’t stay the night?” she asks. She’s been bugging all of us about it all week, but I hate to tell her that after being on house arrest last night, Jefferson is probably already down on sorority row.

“Ron, we already talked about it,” Dad tells her. “They’ve already got one sister staying at the house, I doubt there’s room for another.”

Mom reminds her, “And you’ve got your own game tomorrow.”

“You do?” I haven’t kept up with Ronnie’s schedule this season. She plays on an all-girls team and from the videos I’ve seen, she’s pretty kick ass. She showed her moves today on the ice, even giving Axel a run during the shootout. “Then you better get home and get to bed.” I reach for my phone. “Do I need to get Reese to call you and give you a lecture on preparation, diet, and rest?”

Her jaw drops in horror. “God, no.”

Dad laughs and says, “Don’t worry, we’ll see everyone again for the playoffs.”

“We have to win the division first.”

“I know you guys are superstitious, but you’ve pretty much got that on lock.”

“I just want to make it clear I don’t expect you there.” Playoff tickets are crazy expensive. “You know it’s fine if you don’t come in person. Plus you don’t even know how far we’ll make it.”

“All the way,” Mom says. “You guys are going to win the whole thing this year, I can feel it.”

Dad chuckles. “There’s no way Reese is letting a second opportunity slip through his fingers.”

He’s right about that. Reese has been focused on redeeming our tragic loss from last year every moment of every day since then. I don’t blame him. I can almost feel the trophy in my hands.

“Then, I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks.” I give everyone a hug, even Ronnie who pretends to hate every second of it. I squeeze her tight and add, “Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thanks, bro.”

It’s still weird having this feeling of “family.” Veronica was young when she was adopted, so most of her memories are ofjust being with the Wilder’s. To her, I’ve always been one of her big brothers.

It’s a short trip back to the Manor and when I get to the porch I catch sight of Shelby through the window, opening the oven. Her back is to me and the name Rakestraw is visible on the back of the jersey she still has on. I’d still rather it be my name on the back, but I did design it and a flicker of pride spreads across my chest, similar to the one I felt earlier when I saw her watching me speak to the kids. I’ve always tried to be honest with my past, but having her hear me talk about it felt more personal.

It also felt like a knife to the chest, knowing she’s leaving in a week.

I know it’s not her fault. She came here with a goal and that was to get her head on straight–to get some space from her parents and David. She did that, and fuck, she’s grown so much. But I know she has obligations to the people back there–and I know they’re not going to let her go easily.

Anyway, she’s not mine to fight for.

I open the door and step inside, hearing the soft strains of music coming from the speaker: Ingrid Flockton. There’s no escaping her.

“Sweet mercy,” I groan, inhaling the scent filling the room. “What is that?”

“Kolaches.” With her hand covered in an oven mitt, she pulls a pan out. My mouth waters.

“You mean the pastries Nadia learned to make for your brother?”

She laughs. “Definitely the way to his heart. I thought I’d make some for everyone.”

My god, she’s an angel.

She sets the pan on the top of the oven. “How was dinner?”

“It was good.” I should have invited her. Spend every second with her that I can.

“Your parents seem nice.”

“They are. They were a little shocked at the fact Axel’s sister wasn’t covered in tattoos and piercings.”

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