Chapter 24
Maddie
The Titans’ staffer’s badge swings from his lanyard as he leads me down the concrete hallway, his strides brisk enough that I have to quicken mine to keep up. Somewhere above us, the arena hums. It’s not even game time yet, and still, I can feel the low thrum of twenty thousand people gathering.
I clutch my crossbody bag a little tighter. It doesn’t hold much—lip balm, my phone, tissues, my Illinois driver’s license and forty bucks—but it feels like a shield. A poor one, considering my stomach has been in knots since I left the house.
Grayce is fine.
More than fine.
I repeat it like a prayer as the staffer swipes us through another restricted door.
Grayce is with the sitter Brienne recommended—a woman raising three boys of her own and who Brienne and Drake use to babysit their boys.
Brienne had assured me she was the best, the kind of mother you can call last minute and she’ll throw in a pan of pizza rolls and have a craft project ready.
I believed her.
And yet, it’s the first time since this all started that I’ve gone out without Grayce. The guilt hovers heavy, whispering that I should be home reading Brown Bear for the thousandth time, not trailing a stranger through tunnels like I belong.
I’m still baffled by what possessed me to say yes because it had nothing to do with my wants and everything to do with Atlas.
He asked me to be here… to support him. He also asked me to hang with him and the team after the game.
I suppose a bit of curiosity drives me, but I could see it was important to him and that’s why I said yes.
As for agreeing to hang out after the game, I figured if I’m going to have guilt for leaving Grayce, I might as well lean into it.
“This way,” the staffer says, holding open a heavy door.
The suite is a different world.
Plush carpet muffles footsteps. The lighting is low but golden, glinting off sleek marble counters.
Flat-screen TVs line the walls, already streaming pregame commentary.
A buffet stretches the length of one side, polished silver lids gleaming over steaming trays.
On the other side, a bar gleams with rows of crystal glasses and every liquor bottle you could imagine.
Staff in black uniforms glide silently, topping off drinks, whisking away plates, offering trays with bite-size things too pretty to eat.
It’s crowded with expensively dressed men and women leaning against high-tops and laughing over cocktails, pausing from time to time to check their phones. Jewelry flashes, perfume curls through the air, and I catch just enough snippets of conversation to know I’m way out of my element.
I freeze just inside the door, every nerve screaming that I don’t belong. Jeans and a sweater—nice enough, but not this. I might as well have a neon sign over my head that says Impostor.
And then Brienne is in front of me. I recognize her because I googled her out of curiosity the evening I was presented with her invitation.
Atlas has talked about her, but I had no idea how incredibly powerful she is.
She’s not just a rich woman but also a business leader, entrepreneur and pioneer.
I learned that she not only heads up one of the largest banks in the United States and owns a professional hockey team, but she just bought a formula race team based out of England.
She is disarming. Chic, yes—blond hair gleaming in the perfect chignon, eyes sharp as cut glass—but her smile is so warm it feels like I’ve known her forever without us ever having spoken a word.
“Maddie.” She says my name like she’s been waiting for me. “I’m so glad you came.”
And then she hugs me. All-encompassing, none of that air-kiss crap, and with an extra squeeze on the end.
The tight coil in my chest loosens by a degree. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“You’re always welcome here.” She glances around the suite, dismisses the cluster of VIPs without apology, and steers me past them.
Relief pulses through me that she doesn’t bother with introductions I don’t want. Instead, she guides me straight to the tall man at the center of a small group.
“Drake,” she calls, and her husband turns.
I recognize him from my Google searching—Drake McGinn, the Titans’ primary goalie but out on injury. Tonight, he’s in a sharp suit instead of pads, but there’s no mistaking the athlete’s bearing.
If Brienne epitomizes cultured chic, her husband is all rough edges with his long hair, beard and tattoos. I’ve never seen two people so diametrically opposed in the looks department, but the way they stare at each other with utter devotion, I can’t imagine any two people more perfectly matched.
Brienne brings me right to him. “This is Maddie.”
His handshake is warm and firm, his smile easy. “Good to meet you, but I feel like I know you already from Atlas. How are you liking Pittsburgh so far?”
I find myself answering honestly. “It’s… different from what I’m used to, but I’m adjusting. The people have been amazing.” I look around the suite. “This invitation is amazing.”
“That’s Pittsburgh for you.” He nods. “And Atlas—I’ve never seen him so over the moon about anything as he is about that little girl. Everyone in the locker room can tell.”
Heat blooms in my chest. “Graycie’s easy to love.”
“Still,” he says with the conviction of a man who’s lived in both locker rooms and nurseries, “it takes a real man to step up. You’ve got a good one in your corner.”
Before my blush can swallow me whole, Brienne cuts in with a knowing smile. “Drake, why don’t you go say hello to the Greens? I’ll steal Maddie for a bit.”
Drake’s eyes glitter with mischief, and he leans in conspiratorially. “That’s Brienne’s code for she wants to talk about girlie stuff with you, so… I’m out of here. I’ll catch up with you two later.”
Drake moves off and now I’m wondering what kind of girlie stuff Brienne would want to discuss. Makeup? Best medicine for period cramps?
She guides me to a high-top table tucked along the side wall, away from the heaviest foot traffic. The arena stretches in front of us, offering a perfect view of the ice below.
Warm-ups are underway. Players streak across the ice with dizzying speed, pucks pinging off boards, music pounding through the rafters. The crowd is already a roar, thousands of purple towels spinning in the air.
Brienne waits until I’ve settled into the tall chair before speaking. Her voice is softer now, intimate. “I’m sorry about your loss. I know Gray meant a lot to you.”
Definitely not discussing makeup and period cramps.
Grief tugs sharp in my chest. “Thank you.”
She nods, her eyes steady. “I lost my brother in the plane crash.”
My eyes widen. I don’t remember reading that and Atlas never said anything. The original Titans team perished in a crash a little over two years ago, and Brienne has rebuilt the organization from the ground up. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t know that.”
She offers a soft smile, one that still holds pain and is a testament that grief never fully goes away. “So I know what it is to lose family suddenly and the need to keep going anyway.”
I swallow, the shared ache knitting a fragile thread between us. “I have to keep going for Grayce.”
“Yes, you do, and Atlas says you’re doing an amazing job. He couldn’t do this without you.”
I shake my head. “I’m finding that I couldn’t do it without Atlas.”
“You’re both building a new life. And different doesn’t mean lesser. Just… different.”
I nod, throat tight.
Brienne’s voice gentles, warm but steady. “Tell me about Gray. What little I know, he and Atlas were childhood friends, but how did you two meet?”
A sneaking suspicion had been growing on me that I was going to really like Brienne Norcross by the end of this evening, but it’s fully confirmed now. No one, other than Atlas, has asked me that question. Not that I blame anyone. Most people focus on me and Grayce and other important life things.
But it’s been forever since I could talk about Gray with someone who didn’t have anything to do with his death.
I let out a half laugh, unexpected as I remember the first time I met him.
“First week of freshman year of college, Gray and I met in the dorm laundry room, of all places. I shoved all my clothes into the only open machine, and of course, it died the second I hit start. He was right behind me with his basket, saw the whole thing, and I think saw I was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Instead of letting me stew in embarrassment, he dumped his laundry on top of mine and declared us ‘co-owners of a broken appliance.’”
Brienne laughs with delight and a smile tugs at me.
“We ended up hand-washing socks in the sink that night and splitting a Snickers from the vending machine for dinner. After that, laundry night just… became our thing. Sarcasm, bad folding, junk food. All the things necessary for a good friendship.” I smile in fond memory.
“He became my first true friend in this world.”
Brienne’s eyes shimmer with curiosity. “And it never turned romantic?”
I snort, the idea of it preposterous. “Never. Our bond was instantly like siblings.”
“He sounds incredibly special. Were you and Atlas close too?”
I look horrified. “God, no. We really didn’t like each other at all.”
“Really?” she asks, leaning forward.
I nod with a chuckle. “I think we were jealous of each other, but you sort of have to throw that away when you become responsible for a tiny human being.”
Brienne’s lips curve. “That sounds about right.”
“Yeah. Looking back, it’s ridiculous. Turns out we’re both stubborn as hell, both protective of Gray, both convinced we knew what was best.” A softer note slips in before I can stop it. “But when we finally stopped circling each other? I realized… we were more alike than I ever wanted to admit.”
Her eyes sharpen a fraction. “And now?”