Page 1 of Hot Shot
Blake
“Are you sure about this?”
My eyes focus on Dad. “Yes.”
“Still think you’re an idiot,” Landon mutters.
“Nobody asked for your opinion, Landon.”
My brother visibly cringes at the sound of Mom’s voice. She isn’t on the screen, hasn’t shown her face on this video call with the men I respect most when it comes to hockey, but I knew she wouldn’t be far away.
She never is from Dad, or he her. They say it’s because they spent so much time apart when he played in the NHL and the years coaching after that.
“If you’re sure, then tell me what you need.”
Dad’s question has my gaze moving from my brother back to him. Despite this being a video call with six people on the screen, I know my dad is looking right at me, his eyes boring into mine, hunting for any weakness or uncertainty.
I also see trust, pride, and a little concern. All of it stems from his knowledge of me. He knows.
Knows I wouldn’t go into this without one hundred percent confidence in my ability to achieve my objective.
Knows if I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t willingly put myself in a position to be hurt again.
Knows that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Branton Lattimer has the power to hurt me.
Hell, he already has.
But none of that matters. It’s in the past, and now, in the present, I’m all about building a future.
And that future means I have to face the one man I swore I wouldn’t get close to again.
Not that he’s shown any sign of letting either of us be close. He’s done everything in his power to push me out of his life—everyone he used to be close to out of his life.
Sighing, I rub a hand on my forehead and think about what it is I need from Dad right now.
Nothing comes to mind.
Hell, I don’t even know if Bran will talk to me, never mind listen to our offer.
“I’m good for now. We’re flying out tomorrow to go see him.”
“We?” Sutton asks.
My eyes flick to my older brother; he’s been quiet until now. Our oldest brother, Mason, has been tightlipped as well and I wonder if it’s because they don’t approve of my decision to be the one from the Rogues org to talk to Bran. I can put their minds at ease if it is.
“Yeah,we. Oakley, Walker, and me.”
“I assume you’re referring to Walker Alcott, Oakley’s fiancé,” Dad asks.
“Husband.”
“What?”
“Since when?”
“What the hell?”
