Page 3 of Pucking Fate

“No, it’s not. You have the right to live wherever you want with Finley. You’re his mother. But what if Christian wants to take on the responsibility…”

“I’m not letting Finley stay with that playboy hundreds of miles away for a single night without me, if that’s what you mean.” Panic begins to rise, tightening my chest at the thought of losing any time with my son. “Wait. You don’t think…would Christian take me to court for custody?”

With the millions the man earns playing professional hockey, how would I fight that? I know Preston would spend however much money it takes for me to get my own attorney, but I dread having to fight over my son. My son, who I have spent every single minute of every day with his entire life. I’m all Finley knows. Me and Preston. If Christian tried to take him, I’ll never forgive him.

“Honestly, I don’t know what Christian plans to do, Maya. Maybe he’ll demand visitation or maybe you’ll never hear from him again. Wouldn’t it be better if you deal with him yourself, though? If you would just try to talk to him and ask him what he wants, you may avoid a world of trouble in the future.”

“Well, that is a problem for another day. How about we tackle today’s problem first?”

My protective brother perks up, as if suddenly on high alert for any and all lurking danger. “What problem?”

“You have to tell Finley your news before he hears it from one of his friends in the sports headlines.”

“Oh, crap,” Preston mutters.

2

Christian Riley

I’m not sure which is worse—losing the national hockey championships or finding out I’m a father who has missed the first four damn years of my son’s life.

Never mind. The latter is definitely worse.

There’s always next year to try to win the championships or the year after that. I have at least five more years in the pros to obtain that goal.

But being a father to Finley? I lost that chance. I wasn’t there the day he was born, and I didn’t get to see his first steps or hear his first words.

He grew up without me in his life and I’m not sure if Maya will ever give me a chance to be a part of it even now that I know the truth.

It’s not like she’s the one who finally told me we have a son together.

No, that was all Preston. I thought he showed up at my apartment a few weeks ago to beat me to death, not turnmy world upside down. I’ll never forget that moment when everything changed.

“You have a son.”

“Huh?” I stare at Preston, unblinking after he says four little words that change…everything.

“His name is Finley. He’s four and, of course, he loves hockey.”

I jump to my feet. “What the hell are you talking about, Preston? I think I would know if I had a son.”

I’m careful, always careful after the one time with Maya… Oh shit.

“Did you say…he’s four? Like years? Like four years, the time since I’ve seen Maya plus about eight or nine months?”

“Yes.”

I shake my head, my jaw clenched tight, pointing my index finger at Preston. “This isn’t fucking funny, man. I’m tired of you fucking with my head, and now you’re making more shit up!”

“I’m not making this up. My sister gave up everything to become a mother while you skated off into the night, going pro and then screwing every woman you met.”

My head keeps shaking in denial. “No. You’re lying! This is some trick to fuck with my head, so I’ll lose the biggest game of my life tomorrow!”

“It’s not your game to win or lose, jackass. It’s the whole team.”

Running my fingers through the front of my hair, I start to pace across the room, along the wall of windows that showcase the city below. “I saw…I saw Maya at game three with a little boy. I figured he was hers, that she had met someone else and they…you know…”

He looked so young, and we’ve been apart for so damn long.

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