Page 79 of Second-Rate Superstar

I groaned. Bristol enjoyed sex and didn’t care if anyone knew it. I, on the other hand, preferred discretion. It was called a private life for a reason.

She shrugged at my reaction. “Just calling it as it is. If you watch long enough, they all get down on their knees and give the ice the ‘old college try.’” She giggled into her drink.

My cheeks heated, and I peeked around the suite. For how large it was, I’d expected more people.

“Where is everyone?”

Knowingly, Bristol pointed out where a few Comets players had gathered against the curved glass. “The partners who have kids with a player will be down there. The team dads love connecting with their kids pre-game. It’s a fun little ritual.”

That was adorable and heartbreaking in the same breath. I could picture Natalie and Jaxon’s kids pressed against the glass, begging for their dad’s attention, but it served as a stark reminder that my life as a player’s child had been very different from theirs.

Closing my eyes, I reminded myself that my past was just that, the past. It was time to move forward.

And who knew? Maybe that meant someday holding up a mini-Braxton to the glass alongside Natalie. If he had his way, that’s precisely where I’d be.

I couldn’t deny that the idea of creating the type of family I’d always craved gave me the warm and fuzzies.

They said you couldn’t choose your parents, but you could choose your partner. I liked the thought of writing the future I wanted. I huffed out a silent laugh that Braxton was already creating it; all he needed was for me to jump on board. And with each passing day, the urge to join him grew stronger.

One by one, the players exited the ice, and two ice resurfacers came out to smooth out the cuts left behind by their skates prior to the start of the game. Seats in the arena were filling rapidly, and I noticed most, if not all, were clad in Jaxon’s jersey.

It began to sink in that Braxton hadn’t been exaggerating when he told me that this town was nuts for his brother.

The lights dimmed, and a video showcasing highlights of the Comets came on the big screen. Hoots and hollers filtered from the stands whenthe video showcased Jaxon lifting the championship trophy. I could only imagine what a moment that had been—both the triumph for Jaxon and the pressure it had placed on Braxton as another benchmark he would be expected to reach.

The teams came out from their respective locker rooms, the hometown crowd cheering for their Comets. Bright lights hit the ice as players did a few laps before congregating near their assigned benches.

A side door near the curved glass opened, and a red carpet was rolled out.

Over the loudspeaker, a voice called out, “Ladies and gentlemen, this evening, we are celebrating a historic milestone for our captain, an achievement very few players reach. Playing in his fourteenth season, all played for the Comets, tonight’s game will mark the 1000thprofessional game for our very own Jaxon Slate!”

Those in attendance went wild, the roar deafening.

Now, in their individually marked jerseys, I could pick out Jaxon standing off to the side of the bench, a bouquet held in one arm as he used the other to wave at the fans. With their helmets off, I spotted Braxton, whose face said it all—his brother’s accomplishment came at a personal cost. One I knew Jaxon wouldn’t want him to pay. But it wasn’t within my rights to get between them.

“To celebrate with him tonight, we welcome Jaxon’s wife, Natalie, to the ice, along with their children, Amelia, Jameson, Beau, Charlie, and Max.”

The applause grew louder when Natalie and the kids stepped onto the red carpet, and Jaxon skated over to meet them, bending down to kiss his wife before handing her the flowers. Scooping Charlie into his arms, they created the perfect picture of family. I couldn’t bite back a smile at seeing Max donning oversized headphones meant to protect his tiny ears from thenoise. They must have been working, as he was dead asleep in his mother’s arms.

“That’s the first family of hockey right there,” Bristol sighed dreamily.

I knew what she was thinking. She was picturing herself down there someday by Nix’s side. I didn’t have the heart to break it to her that it was a pipe dream. He couldn’t see the good thing he had right in front of him; he was too focused on racking up the body count in his bed.

A spotlight remained on the family as the rest of the lights in the arena cut out, and all attention was pulled to a video on the screen.

And wouldn’t you know it, the very first face that filled the screen was that of the man who was quickly stealing my heart.

Braxton smiled, speaking into the camera, the video obviously having been pre-recorded. “Hey, Jaxon. Congrats on one thousand games. You set the tone for those around you, pushing all of us to be better players. I’ve been fortunate to have a front-row seat to your career my entire life, and now I’m by your side, going to battle every day on the ice. I’m proud of all you’ve accomplished on and off the ice.”

My heart fluttered. Braxton was struggling, but he’d put his feelings aside to publicly congratulate his brother on what was an incredible milestone. I couldn’t begin to wrap my brain around a thousand games played. The toll that had to take on a person’s body with how physical the sport was. It was no wonder not many were able to achieve it.

Next, an older couple—if I had to guess, they were in their mid-fifties—were pictured side by side. The man had salt-and-pepper hair, and the woman had short chestnut hair, but her whiskey eyes were what stole my breath away. I knew those eyes. Those two could only be Jaxon and Braxton’s parents.

Their father spoke first. “Jaxon, I can still recall lacing up your skates the very first time you took the ice. It feels like only yesterday, and now, hereyou are, getting ready to play in your one-thousandth professional game. You’ve made us so very proud.”

A smile curled on their mom’s face. It was slightly crooked, just like her boys’. “I still get nervous every time I watch you play. I know how badly you want to win, to compete, and I feel that energy even in the stands. It’s been incredible to watch you grow, both in your love for the sport and as a leader.”

The screen changed to show clips of Jaxon’s draft day, and I saw what Natalie had meant when she said looking at Braxton was like a peek into the past. Jaxon was scrawnier, with a baby face at only eighteen, but it was clear Braxton would be a carbon copy of his older brother as he grew. He was adorable now, but I bit back a moan, knowing he would mature into the devastatingly handsome version Jaxon portrayed in his early thirties.

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