Page 31 of The Pucking Date
“Don’t get cute.” His jaw ticks. “I’m talking about O’Reilly.”
“What about him?” I ask, keeping my tone even. If he wants to drag this into workplace territory, fine, I’ll meet him there.
“You know damn well what,” he hisses. “I saw the way he was looking at you. The way healwayslooks at you.”
I cross my arms, mirroring his stance but with far more control. “And?”
His mouth flattens. “And I’ve coached a hundred of these guys, Jess. I know how they think. I’ve seen what happens when they get distracted, and when they distract others. You’re not just my daughter. You’re part of this organization. I’m not going to let some player treat you like a highlight reel.”
There it is. The same speech he’s probably given a dozen times. Like I’m some wide-eyed rookie who doesn’t know better, instead of the woman who’s saved this franchise’s reputation more times than he’s won games. Like I haven’t been running circles around league executives while he’s still treating me like I need protection from the big scary world—and the men in it.
“Dad,” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m not seventeen. And I don’t need you policing where a man looks.”
His frown deepens. “It’s more than a look, Jessica. Guys like O’Reilly?—”
“Are none of your business,” I cut in, sharper now. “I handle Finn. I handleeverythingthat keeps this team’s reputation intact. That’s my job, remember?” His mouth presses into a hard line, but I’m not done. “If you’re that concernedabout distractions, maybe focus on getting Rothschild to lock down your star player before he signs with another team,” I add, letting a little venom slip through. “Because Finn’s contract status is a bigger threat to this season than whether or not he flirts with me in a hallway.”
That lands. I see it in the slight shift of his stance. For a second, neither of us speaks, just two Novaks locked in a silent war of pride and protection. Finally, he exhales through his nose, like he’s deciding which battle to pick today.
“Promise me you’ll be smart,” he mutters, the fight draining into something that sounds almost like concern. “I know players like him. Damn, Jessica, I was a player like him before meeting your mother.”
I meet his gaze, steady and unflinching. “Yeah, well… maybe you should start trusting that I can handle myself.”
I don’t wait for a response. I turn on my heel and walk out, pulse hammering in my ears. Because the truth is, I don’t know if I’m being smart. Not when it comes to Finn O’Reilly.
But I do know one thing, I’m done letting my father define what safe looks like.
I stalk down the hall, heels clicking, pulse loud in my ears. My phone’s in hand, today’s meetings already buzzing. But the moment I duck into my office and close the door, the weight crashes down again. Heavy. Relentless.
Because underneath the anger, the ambition, the perfectly polished armor I wear to work each day, I’m exhausted. Bone-deep, soul-tired in a way that has nothing to do with the job and everything to do with the life I’ve been too afraid to claim. And no matter how hard I push forward, something still feels fundamentally...wrong.
My stomach dips. Not with nerves.
Something else.
Something I’ve been trying not to name.
I pull open the top drawer of my desk. Stare at the blank Post-it where I usually jot my priorities for the day. I write three words:
Take the test.
And just like that, the truth stops knocking.
It starts hammering.
6
SKATING ON THIN ICE
FINN
The ice doesn’t care about contracts, headlines, or agents. Doesn’t give a damn about the way Jessica Novak’s heels clicked across the concrete like a countdown to my self-control. Out here, everything’s simple—blades, speed, power.
Everything off the ice? That’s where it gets messy.
I dig into another sprint, carving across the rink like I can outrun the weight pressing in from all sides. Management’s silence, Marcus’s texts lighting up my phone, and that little voice in the back of my head reminding me that time’s running out.
I’m the last one off the ice, not because I need the extra work, but because I’m not ready to step back into a world where everyone’s waiting to see if I bolt.
