Chapter 1
CHAPTER
ONE
Dawson
It’s never a good thing when my uncles, Jude and Jace, and my dad stand before me with their arms crossed and their piercing green eyes set on me.
Even though I mirror them, not only in looks but in the fact that I’m very imposing—and taller by a half inch that I claim like a gold medal—I’m utterly terrified of them.
I have spent my life wanting to be just like them.
Not to toot the “Sinclairs were the best hockey players in the NHL” horn, but in my opinion, they were.
Each of them took the league by storm, all three retiring as captains of their respective teams.
Even now, retired, they are still so involved in the sport.
My dad is the coach for the Bellevue Bullies, the college team my brother and I play for.
My uncle Jude is an agent now, for both Louis and me, along with some of the greatest hockey talent out there.
Jace runs a nonprofit with my aunt Avery that provides hockey camps, equipment, and more to kids who want to play but can’t fund it or don’t have the support.
They partner with Big Brothers Big Sisters of Middle Tennessee and bring in a lot of kids that way.
After two years in operation, he bought a bunch of land an hour away and built a high-performance camp for kids to train.
He brings in his buddies from the league to coach and mentor.
Because he is the best husband—according to his wife—Jace built a compound on his property where Avery teaches guitar lessons and holds writing retreats for teenagers who want to become songwriters.
It’s wild to think that no one thought they’d be anything after getting pregnant in college, but here they are, proving everyone wrong.
But that’s what my family does. We rise above and kick some major ass.
But in addition to their professional successes, they are all great dads, husbands, uncles, and sons.
For me, two of the best uncles and a dad a guy could ask for.
They are my rocks.
And I sure as hell don’t like it when they are disappointed in me.
I swallow hard.
My gaze moves between the three men, unsure what to do or say.
Dad has the most intense green eyes of the trio, which is intimidating to some, but he’s my safe space, so I focus on him.
There hasn’t been a moment in my life when my dad wasn’t there.
Even when he was on road trips all over the USA, playing in every great hockey arena, he was included in every aspect of my life.
He was always on FaceTime, and if he had to miss, my mom recorded our conversations and we’d discuss everything before I went to bed.
When he retired and became the coach for the Bellevue Bullies, he still made sure to be there for us.
No matter that he had thirty other kids to take care of, Mom, Louis, and I have always been his priority.
“Staring at him isn’t going to get an answer out of him.”
The three men before me don’t even spare my mom a glance. As pathetic as it is for a twenty-four-year-old man to look to his mom for help, I do. She gives me a soft smile then a shrug, as if to say, “Yeah, you did this to yourself.”
And I have.
I was supposed to pick which sport I wanted to focus on, but once again, I can’t make the decision.
Yes, this has been going on for ten years, and I still have no clue what I’m doing.
Football or hockey?
Hockey or football?
Balls or pucks?
Stick or my throwing glove?
Ice or turf?
I don’t know.
And I don’t know why I can’t make the choice.
I’m a second-year super senior because I keep putting off the draft.
I’m pretty damn sure if my uncle weren’t the agent he is, teams would have written me off, but somehow, I still have professional offers.
I still have teams from both sports wanting me.
It’s frustrating not only for them but for me, because choosing my major and then continuing for my master’s in sports ethics was an easy choice.
There is so much toxicity and abuse in sports.
When my career comes to an end, I want to be the one who enforces the rules of conduct and safety for younger athletes.
I don’t think people realize that the rates of suicide for college athletes are on the rise, and that it stems from not just abuse, but also unrealistic expectations in travel sports and private clubs.
Thankfully, I’ve never experienced anything like that, but I have watched my brother go through it.
Silently. He never told a soul, but when I found out, I became his voice.
Now I want to be the voice and enforcer for those who can’t speak for themselves.
That is, if my uncles and dad don’t kill me dead right here.
As he pinches the bridge of his nose, I am convinced my indecision has aged my dad.
Gone is his purely dark hair; it’s now lined with grays along his temples and forehead.
His eyes wrinkle at the sides, and I want to say that is from laughing with us, but it may come from squinting at me in disbelief since I can’t seem to make up my mind on my future.
I know it’s mine, but my parents are invested.
They want what’s best for me, and still, I can’t decide.
His brows furrow, and it’s a toss-up on who caused the deep groove between his eyes. That was either my mom challenging him at every turn…or me.
On an exhale, he says, “Please explain your train of thought.”
I shrug like I’m back to being fourteen.
Hell, I feel like it. I know I have their support, I know they love me, but fuck, I feel like a failure.
My voice is unsteady as I admit, “I don’t know.
I know I said I wanted to focus on hockey, but the thought of not hitting the field has my stomach twisting.
I didn’t get the year I wanted last year. ”
“Then focus on football,” Jace insists, his voice full of exasperation. “You can’t keep beating your body up like this. Especially after that concussion you had last season.”
I get what he’s saying, but it was a mild concussion.
I was only out for two weeks after getting blasted into the boards when we were fighting for the championship.
The Bellevue Bullies hockey team has won the championship four times since I have been at Bellevue, but we haven’t won one as a football team.
I feel like this could be the year. My accuracy is top-notch, and I have two new receivers who could catch a pea if I threw it at them.
I feel it in my bones; this is our year.
Problem is, I told everyone I was going to go all in on hockey.
Hence, the staredown.
“I can do both. I’m in great shape.”
I am. I am a super health freak. I do everything from red light therapy to cryotherapy to all the therapies to keep my body healthy for the two sports I can’t bring myself to pick between.
I am a very strict paleo eater, and I drink my body weight in water.
When I’m not working out on the field or the ice, I’m in the gym getting stronger.
I’m the picture of perfect health. “You said I had more offers for hockey than I do football?”
“Yes. So why are we worried about a championship?” Jude asks, his mouth turned down. “I swear, if you weren’t my nephew, I’d drop you as a client for the pure fucking stress you put me under.”
“And I’d kick your ass,” Dad supplies, but Jude laughs.
“I could beat your ass with my pinkie toe, and I said if he weren’t. Turn your hearing aids up,” he teases, much to Dad’s dismay. My dad is the only one of the brothers with grays. He’s convinced Jude is dyeing his hair, and honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him. He loves to look good for his wife.
“This isn’t about you two idiots. It’s about Dawson,” Jace says, setting the conversation back on track. “Do you even want to go pro?”
“Yes!” I say almost instantly. “Talk me through my offers?”
All eyes fall to Jude. He presses his lips together. “The Devils, Seattle, and the Ducks dropped their interest when they saw you were playing football this season.”
Fuck. I nod slowly. While my dream is to play for the Nashville Assassins, I’m not na?ve. I have to go to a lower-ranked team, show everyone what I’ve got, then get Jude to beg Shelli Adler-Brooks, the GM of the Assassins, to trade for me. “Who do we have an interest from for football?”
He cringes. “The Jets, Bears, and Jags.” He shakes his head. “Listen, kid. The money and the fame are in hockey. You are a legacy, a household name. Give up football and focus on the sport you’re meant to be in.”
I know this. I do, but I won’t commit.
My mom says I have commitment issues.
I don’t want to agree, but since I’ve never been in a relationship, she may be onto something.
“What if you get hurt?” Dad asks, his eyes searching mine. “Then everything you’ve worked for is up in smoke.”
Like those thoughts haven’t crossed my mind.
But I can get hurt walking to the bathroom.
Not that I’d say it, but I wouldn’t be sad if it happened.
I could focus on helping kids in sports.
But I really do want to play professionally.
I want to make these three proud. Hell, even my mom is a household name.
Not only was she the first woman to play in the NHL, but she is also a three-time Team USA medalist in hockey for the women’s team.
She’s the coach for the Bullies’ women’s team, and she’s a freaking powerhouse.
Jude isn’t kidding. I am a legacy, and I’m letting everyone down.
“We have a good O-line this year. I’ll be fine. Let me get us a championship,” I try, but they all don’t seem to like the idea. I fall back into one of my mom’s vintage high-back chairs as everyone glowers at me.
Jace crouches down so that our eyes are level. “The risk of injury is too high.”
“I’ll be fine,” I promise, even though it’s a promise I really can’t make. Anything can happen at any moment. “I just want to finish my last year doing both sports.”
Jude runs his hands down his face as Dad’s head falls back.
From the kitchen, Mom reminds me, “It’s your choice, Dawson.”
She has her hair up in a high pony with a bright teal scrunchie shining in her dark locks.
Her eyes are a vibrant hazel that honestly pack a punch, but they’re also so full of love.
She’s wearing my dad’s old Assassins tee with a pair of cotton shorts as she meal preps for the family.
I can see the concern in her eyes. She doesn’t like when they gang up on me, but she knows it’s needed.
Hell, even I know it’s needed.
Louis sits on the counter, watching the drama unfold.
Unlike me, Louis has his life together. He’s playing hockey for the Bullies, while studying physical education because when he’s done in the NHL, he wants to be a PE teacher.
We’ll go into the draft together, but he’ll go before me.
He hasn’t wasted anyone’s time and is ahead of the game.
Hell, in all aspects of life.
His boyfriend, Jennings, leans against the counter, watching everything go down as he snacks on some chips from the bag Louis holds.
They’ve been together since the summer before high school, and I couldn’t think of a better guy for my brother.
He’s kind, loving, and very supportive of Louis.
He’s a music major and met Louis through Avery’s program when Louis was up at their place for hockey.
Louis came out a week after meeting Jennings and hasn’t left his side since.
Must be nice to have it all figured out.
I shift my gaze back to my dad and take in his weathered face, the fear and concern in his eyes.
He only wants what’s best for me, and all I want is to make him proud.
It’s so frustrating because I want to be sure about my decision.
This will be my sixth year in college doing dual sports.
I should know what I want. Why does it feel like my heart is being ripped in half by the two sports I love?
If I’m honest with myself, I’m a better hockey player than I am a quarterback.
Is it pride? Do I want the championship so badly that I’ll risk my chance to go pro in the NHL?
Do I even want to go pro?
Yes.
Right?
Fuck, what am I doing?
I let out a long breath as I look between the three men in front of me. I want to be everything they see in me, but what if I’m not? What if the NHL or, hell, the NFL isn’t what I’m supposed to do?
But that doesn’t feel right either.
My gaze falls to where Louis is watching me. He gives me a small smile, one that says he’s here for me just as I’ve always been there for him. I wouldn’t want anyone to go through what he went through, but I can’t help anyone if I don’t help myself. If I don’t figure out what I want for myself.
Jesus, why is this so hard?
Being an adult is trash.
With a gravelly voice, I promise, “I’ll be careful, and Coach knows I want to go pro for hockey, so he’ll take it easy on me.”
But even as the words leave my mouth, they don’t feel right.
Nothing does.
And I think everyone in the room knows it.