Page 3 of Second-Rate Superstar
Gesturing between us with her hand, she clarified, “Us.”
Staring at her, I wasn’t quite sure what I was hearing. “Us. As in . . .”
“It’s over.”
I barked out a laugh of disbelief, repeating her words. “It’s over. Are you fucking kidding me right now? After that shitshow back there, you’re dumping me?!”
My voice rose loud enough that fellow tourists enjoying the fountain show turned to gawk at the ridiculous soap opera of my life unfolding. What did it matter now? My career—or the potential lack of one—would be plastered all over the sports media outlets before I returned to the hotel. Why not let people witness a public breakup while I was at it?
Lacey popped her hip. “It’s because of that shitshow. Mr. Irrelevant? You had so much potential, but you’re going nowhere fast, Braxton, and I’m not going to let you take me down with you.”
I scoffed as a memory of the day I met her came to the front of my mind. Lacey hanging around the rink after most of the spectators had gone home. She wasn’t picky; she’d have taken on any player. She was just a run-of-the-mill puck bunny, looking to get in on the ground floor before a guy hit it big. And I was the idiot who couldn’t see past a pretty face and promises of forever to uncover the scheming gold-digger underneath.
She’d been using me all along.
Even though I was more pissed at myself that I hadn’t seen it coming, it didn’t stop me from trying to hurt her like she’d hurt me. “Fine. Guess you wouldn’t have been able to hack it as a hockey wife anyway. Not every season is a championship year or even a playoff year. It’s better I know what kind of fair-weather fan—or girlfriend—you turned out to be before it was too late.”
She flinched at my harsh words.
Knowing she had a key to her own hotel room and a return ticket to Michigan on her phone, I turned on my heel and walked away.
Walking the Strip, I berated myself for being a gullible, lovesick fool for the first girl who’d shown interest in me. I should have known better. But a small part of me had been hopeful that someone had finally seen past my last name and who my brother was—that they sawme.
Was that really so much to ask? I guess I hadmy answer.
I would never be more than an off-brand Jaxon Slate to those in the hockey community.
This sport was ruining my life from the inside out.
Chapter 1
Braxton
Four Years Later
Today was the dayI had been dreading for four years. The day I officially joined the Connecticut Comets franchise as a player.
The season always kicked off with a pre-season barbeque at a country club for the entire organization. It was the calm before the storm. Come Monday, pre-season training would be in full swing and then we’d launch headfirst into the season, which spanned from October to April, and beyond if the team made the playoffs—something the Comets often did; this year coming in as reigning champions.
Coming to Connecticut for college had been a mistake.
Jaxon had gone away to boarding school for hockey by the time I was six. Honestly, we’d barely spent any of our childhood together, so I never experienced what it was like to be sucked into orbit by his larger-than-life personality, both on and off the ice.
I didn’t fault him for being a good guy, but I couldn’t help harboring some resentment over the fact that when I was out and about in Hartfordand my face sparked recognition, people immediately glanced over my shoulder, hoping he was with me.
Jaxon was the main attraction; I was simply the opening act.
And it didn’t help that God had a hell of a sense of humor. I was a few inches shorter—five-ten to his six-foot—but other than that, our looks were so similar that there was no denying we were brothers.
Jaxon had made his mark on this town, becoming the youngest captain in Comets franchise history. Beyond that, he was the face of the league. Teammates and opponents raved about him, and everyone knew he was Hall of Fame bound.
And if the career wasn’t enough, he now had the perfect family. Hero Jaxon had swooped in and saved the fallen princess—my sister-in-law, Natalie—and had even gone so far as to adopt her three older kids from a previous marriage. They had a daughter of their own—my niece, Charlie—and another baby due any day now.
Jaxon was the ultimate golden boy, and I was blinded by the light of his spotless reputation.
Wanting to set myself apart, I had put my head down and focused during my four years at Hartford State, earning a bachelor’s degree in sports analytics. I figured it would be useful if my playing career petered out at some point—I could stay close to the game on the back end.
Speaking of the hockey side, I had focused on strength training, increasing my speed on the ice, and honing my shooting skills. I was a better player now than I had been when I was “drafted.” During my senior year, I was named captain and led my team to a collegiate national championship this past April.
