Page 47 of One Last Shot

“When do I get to come to one of your games?” Stella asks, out of the blue.

“You want to come to a game?”

“I bet it would be more fun to watch in person than on TV!”

“You watched my games?”

“She watched the first period of each game this week,” Petra clarifies. “The second and third periods were too late for her to stay up for.”

What is this tightness in my chest?

“You watched the games too?” I ask.

“Of course.” I can’t decipher the look she gives me. She seems confused at my surprise, but I know for a fact she hadn’t watched any of my games before this week.

“I used to watch them all the time with Papa,” Stella says, and I marvel at how well-adjusted she sounds when she talks about her parents. Meanwhile, I can hardly think of Niko without evoking all kinds of rough emotions.

“I could probably get tickets to Sunday’s game,” I say, “if you both want to come.” I don’t want to assume that just because Stella wants to be there in person, Petra does too.

Stella and Petra look at each other and grin. “Perfect,” Petra says. “But see if you can get tickets close to the ice. I don’t want to be stuck up in a box away from the action.”

That makes me chuckle, because of course she wants to be where the action is. And in a way that’s easier for me too, because if she showed up in one of the team’s luxury boxes where most of the other wives and girlfriends watch the game, my teammates would be all over me in two seconds. As far as they know, Alex Ivanov lives, breathes, eats, and sleeps hockey—there is no time for anything else.

They don’t even know about Stella, so how in the world would I explain Petra?

* * *

“Explain to me why I just helped my niece pack for a sleepover I already said no to,” I say as I walk into the den after putting Stella to bed.

Petra’s curled up on one end of the couch with her laptop on her knees, so I take the chair closest to her. I try to ignore the long expanse of smooth skin on her legs. Those sleep shorts she’s got on are incredibly short and leave nothing to the imagination.

She turns to face me. “Did you say ‘no’? Or did you continuously brush Sofia off when she asked?”

“Either way, I didn’t say yes.”

“You do know that Stella and Harper used to have sleepovers regularly, right?”

“Define regularly.”

“Like usually once a month they’d stay with Sofia and her husband, giving Niko and Colette a night off, and once a month they’d stay with your brother, giving Sofia and her husband some alone time. It was a normal part of Stella’s life, and it sure seems like you’ve—” She pauses like she’s considering her words. “—unintentionally taken that away from Stella.”

It pisses me off that she’s right, but also she doesn’t know how much I hate letting Stella out of my sight. She’s the only family I have left. “You don’t know the whole story,” I say.

One of her eyebrows rises higher than the other. “You’re going to have to give me more than that if you want me to understand your reasoning.”

“You don’t have to understand,” I say, the frustration evident in my voice. “I just need you to do what I say when it comes to Stella.”

She sets her laptop on the couch and stands, which has me standing too. It’s a face-off without the puck. Fighting with Petra has always been a favorite pastime.

“I’m not here to do your bidding. I’m not your fucking employee,” she says, her words slow and deliberate, and so low they sound like sexual seduction instead of the frustration they actually are. “I’m here to do what’s best for Stella.”

“What I decide is best for Stella, is best for her. I need you to trust me on that.”

She inches forward so we’re nearly toe-to-toe. “How can I possibly trust you when you’re not being honest with me?”

“Because it’sme,” I say, and I know my words sound desperate. I need her to go back to trusting me and all I can do is appeal to the reminder of the friendship we once had. “Because we were best friends once, and because even though you’re obviously still mad at me, I think deep down you know that I have your best interests at heart too. Always have.”

She barks out a scornful laugh. “Right.”

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