“They’re ready for you, Coach,” a young woman in a Wildcatters polo announced.

  He nodded, then began patting his pockets. He reminded me of my dad, looking for his glasses. A pang of loss hit hard and fast. My father had been my world, but he’d died when I was young—right before we moved from Brooklyn to the small community in Connecticut where I’d met Paxton.

  I wondered if we would have moved had my father survived his aneurism. I also wondered if staying in Brooklyn would have saved me a world of pain.

  But we hadn’t; my mother had been determined to move even before my father’s death, and we’d been ensconced in a new house two short months after his funeral.

  I still missed my dad. My mother…not so much.

  “Your glasses are atop your head,” I offered.

  “Ah! Thanks. Yes, well, I better go deal with the press. Let’s chat again soon, Hana.”

  He smiled again before he strolled out. I turned my attention to Ida Jane. “You realize it’s like I walked into Wonderland, right?”

  “Because we know more about you than you do us? Or because we’re all rooting for Naese and you to find a happy ending?” She sipped from a mug, smacked her lips, and practically purred. “It’s delicious!”

  She picked up the other mug and handed it to me. “I…I guess.” I stared down into the dark liquid as I gathered my courage and met Ida Jane’s clear blue eyes. “Paxton and I haven’t seen each other in years. He broke my heart.” I shook my head. “He never came to see me in the hospital.” My voice broke, but I blinked back the threatening tears.

  Ida Jane raised an eyebrow. “I can tell you with absolute certainty that he didn’t know,” she said softly. She took another sip of her drink and met my gaze over the top. “I can also tell you there’s something strange about how Naese’s parents kept your hospitalization from him.”

  I stared back down into the cocoa, frozen for a moment. Yes, I believed so, too.

  “Naese told Cruz, who told Cormac, Maxim, and Stolly, that he’d cut his parents out of his life. For good.”

  I sipped the sweet, rich brew. “I know how important Naese’s family is to him⁠—”

  “And he’d put you before them now that he knows what they did, what they hid,” Ida Jane said. She shook her head and raised her free hand. “I’m sorry. I’m totally overstepping my place. I just want to see Naese happy. He deserves it.” She smiled. “And now that I’ve met you, I want you two to be together and as crazy-happy as Maxim and I are.” Her smile softened. “I can feel how right you are for each other, and I know he loves you so very much.”

  "He loves you so very much.” The words echoed in my head. Hadn’t I told myself that when we went to different universities? When I saw him less and less thanks to his hockey schedule? Even when he told me we should break up because his schedule would be too hard on me…

  But I’d been wrong about Paxton then, and Ida Jane as wrong now. Abandonment wasn’t love. Not after the accident, but before. Paxton had thrown me away without regard for my feelings and without the respect our relationship deserved, and I couldn’t pretend otherwise.

  I set the half-filled mug down on the edge of the desk. The constant anger I’d barely learned to leash now swirled upward, choking me. I didn’t know Ida Jane, and I couldn’t be sure I knew Paxton, could I? He was not the person I’d thought he’d been before he left me, and I had only just met the person he was today. “You know what? I can’t do this.”

  Ida Jane kept her expression neutral, almost as if she’d expected my response. “What exactly can’t you do?”

  “Pretend that I’m fine with the way he broke up with me. With the hookups afterward, with his sudden reappearance. The reporters. This world. All of it.”

  She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. “Well, at least you know.”

  I bit my lip to keep from snapping a response. Ida Jane had been kind to me. I wouldn’t repay her with surliness; I wouldn’t react like my mother. “Thank you,” I said. I headed toward the door, my leg aching with each step, reminding me why I shouldn’t even consider the fairy tale I’d never get with Paxton.

  I was better off in the quiet of the lab. Unassuming and unknown. I didn’t want this life.

  “For the record, he was happier tonight, more focused, than I’ve ever seen him,” Ida Jane called.

  My lips twisted. “Don’t presume to understand my history,” I said stiffly, my hand on the doorknob, my back to her. “He broke a lot of promises.”

  “If you come to another game, I’ll tell you how I learned about Maxim’s hookup history,” Ida Jane said casually, as if we’d remain friendly.

  I shook my head. There wouldn’t be a next time. “Bye.”

  Getting back to my apartment took much longer than I’d expected, and I was exhausted by the time I reached my door. I gasped when I flipped on the lights to my studio and found Jeremy lounging on my bed in the far corner. He’d mussed the red silk duvet that I’d inherited from my father’s mother, his shoes leaving dirty streaks on the fragile material.

  He glared at me, and I glared back.

  “What are you doing in here?” I asked.

  “Waiting for you,” he said.

  “How…”

  “Your neighbor thinks I’m charming,” he said, flashing a dimpled smile.

  Celeste had let Jeremy into my place? Oh, we were having words. She had a key for emergencies—like a catastrophic bathroom flood. Not to let in annoying would-be suitors with an ego problem.

  I narrowed my eyes and straightened my spine. “You need to leave. Now.”

  He rose, his expression set, inflexible. “No, you need to listen.” He stalked closer until he towered over me. “The simulation today didn’t pan out. I’m going to have to re-run it. You’re off the project.”

  That was a blow. A big one. A terrible one for my career and my finances. I couldn’t really afford more than a month, maybe six weeks if I was very, very careful.

  I clenched my jaw and glared back. “If that’s the case, then you definitely need to get out of my space and my life.”

  Jeremy stared down at me, waiting. I stared back, my jaw set.

  “You’re supposed to ask—” He cut himself off. With effort, he wiped his expression and sneered. “Good luck working in aeronautics.”

  “Don’t ever—and I mean ever—come to my home again.”

  Jeremy stormed off, and I collapsed into the chair, staring sightlessly out the window.

  Many bridges had burned tonight. In fact, my entire life was in smoldering ruins. But even as I stared outside, a lightness filled my chest, at odds with the whirring of my mind as I struggled to fix my issues.

  I’d always thought I wanted the chance to set my own course. But now that the opportunity was here, the idea of finding a job I enjoyed, spending time with Paxton again, and moving to a new city was terrifying. The changes had happened with dizzying speed, and I worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up. Yet, at the same time, anticipation sizzled through me. I might work for NASA. NASA!

  And Paxton wanted to help me. We’d just…ended before, so I needed whatever this would turn out to be—whether that was closure or something more. I wanted the more, but that frightened me, too. I’d never had much of a support structure, even when my mother was alive. So I had to be realistic: my leg might well buckle when I took this leap of faith.

  Chapter 9

  Paxton

  I was going to be in deep trouble with Coach for missing the flight back with the team, but I couldn’t leave without talking to Hana again. Ida Jane had recommended that I give her time, but after seeing her with the skinny shit earlier today and the way she’d fled after the game, I didn’t have that luxury.

  I mean, I did, but I’d already missed years of time with Hana because of my father’s meddling, and I refused to miss even a single additional moment.

  That’s how I ended up in the backseat of an Uber, my ear bent by a chatty driver named Herb. His nonstop dissertation seemed to posit that sports, women, and beer were the only necessities in a man’s life.

  Sorry, bucko, but we’ll have to disagree on that one. “Thanks for the ride,” I said, slamming the door shut when we finally arrived. He’d been entertaining and seemed like a decent guy, all in all. If I wasn’t concerned about Hana, I’d probably have wanted to take him out for a beer or two.

  I climbed the steps to her apartment building, unsurprised when a shadow peeled off the side wall. I eyed the skinny shit as he stalked toward me.

  “You can have her.” Skinny Shit sniffed as he strode past. “She’s not worth the effort, and she’s not even that good of an engineer. Good riddance to you both.”

  Why do people think athletes are divas? We’re used to hard work and consistent, brutal rejection. This guy, though, hadn’t worked for years on a singular goal—he didn’t have the stamina for difficult tasks. Most people didn’t.

  “She’s not a thing to toss between people,” I told him, shaking my head as I tried to ease the annoyance out of my system. “Hana’s her own person, and she’ll make her own choices.”

  “Yeah, well, she can choose a different career as well, because I don’t want her anymore,” he sneered. “And what I say in aerospace tech goes.”

  Fuck. This. Guy. Gunnar Evaldson, the Wildcatters’ owner, who’d made billions of dollars in his career, wasn’t pathetically egotistical. But Skinny Shit couldn’t see the damage he did to others because he was too busy trying to soothe his ruffled feathers. And the fact that he’d sacrifice Hana angered me. Even as I had that thought, though, I clenched my fist, hating that I hadn’t behaved any better than him three years before.

  But I was different now. I refused to be like Skinny Shit.

  “Your loss, man.” I gave him a wide berth as I headed up the stairs.

  “She ruined the chance for a beautiful career—for you.” Derision dripped from his words, like poison from a snake’s fang.

  I kept walking.

  “Men like you make me sick. Big, brawny—stupid. You just can’t let the rest of us have something good, can you?”

  “You never learned when to shut up, Jeremy.”

  I looked up to find the source of that voice and saw a girl hanging out of the window above us. She waved. “You want to see Hana?” she asked.

  “Yeah, if you think⁠—”

  “After Jeremy sleazed all over her earlier, she’s probably desperate to see someone decent. Hang on. I’ll be down in a jiff.” She raised her voice. “And I called the police, Jeremy, for disrupting the peace and breaking and entering. And being a total creepy bastard who doesn’t know the difference between a pen and his dick.”

  My new favorite person shot me a wink as I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Skinny Shit might have called me dumb—which didn’t stick because it was ridiculous as well as wrong—but the woman above had just ripped his masculinity to shreds. I liked this girl. If she was a hockey fan, I was getting her tickets to some games.

  She arrived, out of breath, a moment later. I noted her wide-set hazel eyes and thick, slightly frizzy coppery hair. An idea formed.

  “Do you like dogs?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she replied. “Who doesn’t? Weirdos, that’s who. So Jeremy must be a dog hater.”

  “How about hockey?” I walked through the door she held open.

  She shrugged. “Never paid much attention to sports.”

  I heaved a gusty sigh. “Pity. I think you’d be great for my friend Cruz.”

  “I know Lennon, and I have watched him play a time or two.”

  I raised my eyebrow at her casual knowledge drop. The door clicked shut behind us. There was just enough light for me to see her blush.

  “I thought you didn’t pay attention to hockey.”

  “I don’t,” she countered. “Really couldn’t be bothered with something that has less meaning to the outcome of our species than the day’s weather.”

  At my wince, she blushed. “Sorry, that was blunt. And rude. Erm…Lennon looked great in that milk campaign.”

  I smirked. “He really did. Made me want to drink some.”

  She giggled and shook her head. “Hana’s place is that one.” She pointed to a door.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Let me know if you decide you like hockey or Cruz. I’ll hook you up.”

  She smiled more broadly, showing off a shallow dimple and dancing eyes. “Oh, well, then I should introduce myself. I’m Vivian Lee. But like I said, I know Lennon.” A shadow of pain slid across her face even as she turned away to head back into her place. The door closed softly behind her.

  Sucking in a bolstering breath, I knocked on the door she’d said was Hana’s. I heard Hana’s uneven gait move across the space, each step in tandem with my heart. She flung open the door, a scowl raking her brow.

  “I told you never to come—oh, hello, Paxton.” She cleared her throat. “Um, what are you doing here?”

  I leaned my forearms on the door frame above us and enjoyed Hana’s slight jaw drop and flash of interest. “Well, first, I need to make sure you’re not talking to me about never coming back.”

  She shook her head. “No, that was my ex-boss.” She hesitated, seeming to calculate something in her head before she waved me inside. I stepped into her place, noting that it was tiny but neat. Hana had always been tidy. That trait worked well for her here because the lack of clutter made the space seem…less tiny.

  Her father’s teapot sat next to the stove, and her grandmother’s red silk coverlet was on the bed. Hana still wore her sweater and leggings, but she’d removed her boots and let her hair down so it spilled over her shoulder in a thick blue-black wave. I knew from experience that it would be cool and satiny to the touch.

  “The skinny shit waited out front to tell me he’d fired you and I was too stupid to help you fulfill your potential.”

  Hana huffed. “I need some tea. Want anything?”

  “Sure. If you don’t mind.”

  “I’m making chamomile. Maybe it’ll help me calm down.”

  She turned on her good leg and shuffled into the kitchen, the limp more noticeable. Based on how she favored her right leg, the left one had to be hurting. She filled the kettle and grabbed two mugs.

  Ah, we aren’t doing the full teapot, which means Hana isn’t accepting me here for long. I understood, but I didn’t like it. Still, I had to respect the boundaries she set. While I’d been duped by my family, Hana had been abandoned by me. I’d promised to love her, to care for her, and I’d walked away.

  “What happened to the promise ring?” I asked.

  Hana set down the box of tea. “I sold it.”

  I swallowed, unsure what to say.

  She tilted her head and studied me. “That makes you angry.”

  I rubbed my palm over the back of my head. “It’s just… I worked for three summers to earn the money for that ring.”

  “And then you broke your promise to me, Paxton.” The tea kettle whistled. “Look, rehashing the past is already tiresome. I needed to pay some bills. Especially…” She bit her lip and finished making us each a cup of tea. She set mine on the counter before lifting hers. Then she leaned on the counter behind her, making no move to close the growing gap between us. “Why are you really here, Pax?”

  “Because I wanted to tell you again in person that I didn’t know about the accident, the hospitalization.” I swallowed. “The baby. And I’m so, so sorry you had to go through all of that alone.”

  She nodded. The steam obscured her a moment, and it felt as if I was trying to translate a language with no known vocabulary.

  “Thank you. I absolve you of any responsibility.”

  I inhaled as I felt my eyes widen. “That’s what you think this is? A way to assuage my guilt?” My jaw tightened.

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No.”

  “Then what is this?” she asked.

  She seemed calm, collected, but I caught the faint tremor in her voice. Hana was keeping it together, but she’d had a hell of a shocking day. If my appearance yesterday had impacted her like it had me, she hadn’t slept much last night. Add to that the rollercoaster of today, and everything felt magnified and a bit warped.

  Like I couldn’t quite catch my balance.

  I stepped around the partial wall that separated us and walked up until the toes of my dress shoes were inches from her leg. I bent my knees, which brought us much closer to eye level. “This is me, coming to you, telling you I made a terrible mistake. One I wish to rectify.”

  Those words cost me some of my pride. But what did that matter, really, if I was lonely and miserable? My pride wouldn’t laugh with me or snuggle with me. I wanted that with Hana.

  “I should have ignored my father,” I continued. “Better yet, I should have told him to go fuck himself. I didn’t. That’s completely on me. And I’m so sorry you suffered because I wasn’t brave enough and strong enough to be the man you needed or deserved.”

  My words seemed to bounce around the space before settling slowly, softly between us. Hana spilled tea on the counter, her hands unsteady. She set her mug aside and stared up at me, eyes liquid and warm, lips slightly parted.

  “I want to be that man for you now. I know I have to prove myself, and I will. If you’ll give me that chance.”

  “That’s… Wow, Pax. That’s a lot to process.”

  “The skinny shit told me about your job,” I told her. I moved to the other side of her kitchen where it was wide enough for two narrow stools—the only dining space in the area. I nudged one of the stools out of my way and leaned my elbows on the strip of countertop.

  She shook her head. “That’s on me, not you. Jeremy…isn’t mature. Or capable of not getting his way. And I’m sure many other things.”

  “Still, I dislike that you’ve been hurt because of me.”

  “Again, not your problem,” she said.

  I hesitated. “I want to tell you why I needed to get in touch with you, why I started to question everything my father told me—taught me.”