Chapter 23
Nadia
I knowwhen he doesn’t come out with the others that something’s wrong.
Reid strolls out in a purple pinstripe suit and aviators despite the fact it’s dark out. When he signs the last program thrust in his direction he walks over to where I’m standing with Twyler.
“You guys coming to the party tonight at the Manor? I’m DJ’ing.”
“I told Reese I’d come by for a few minutes. I’m leaving early for Tennessee tomorrow.” She looks at her phone. “Where is he anyway?”
“Coach called Ax into his office.” His eyes flick up to mine. “I think he’s sticking around to find out what’s going on.” He holds his hand up in a wave. “See you back at the house.”
“Do you think he’s in trouble?” I ask.
“For that last play? Maybe, but they won, so I can’t see Coach Bryant giving him too hard of a time.”
I have a nagging feeling it’s not Coach Bryant that’s holding him up and after waiting another five minutes I tell Twyler, “I’m going to go check on him.”
“Are you sure?” she looks uneasily at the arena door. “If Coach Bryant really is mad, you don’t want to get in the middle of it.”
“I just want to make sure he’s okay.” I squeeze her hand. “If he or Reese comes out, text me.”
“All right, but if Coach Bryant has that vein on his forehead, get out of there.” She gives me a stern look. “I mean run, don’t walk.”
“Gotcha.”
I weave through the remaining fans and push through the arena doors. This takes me to the lobby, but I know my way back to the locker rooms after going with Twyler during the game.
The warm heat of the lobby feels good and as I cross the space toward the back staircase, a man approaches, calling my name. It’s the first time I’ve seen Axel’s father up close. He’s handsome, an older copy of his son with no piercings or tattoos. His hair is closer to gray than blond at this point, but the warm smile is so familiar, it stops me in my tracks. “Miss Beckwith?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Nolan Rakestraw. I wanted to see if we could speak for a moment?” He adds, “It involves my son, Axel.”
“I was just going to look for him.”
“He may be a few minutes longer. That’s all this will take.” He gestures to a bench near the ticket booth. “Please.”
I sit, admittedly both curious and suspicious. There’s no way Axel knew his father was coming to the game. I saw it when he noticed him after intermission. He was flustered for a moment–but in true form, got it together quickly.
He sits next to me, legs crossing over one another. “I spoke with Axel after the game, which is why I’m sure he’ll need a few extra minutes before he comes out. We had to speak about current events in his life and how these will affect his future.”
“Okay.”
“Miss Beckwith–”
“You can call me Nadia.”
“Nadia, of course.” He smiles tightly. “By the time I was Axel’s age, I was in college, but already married and preaching at my father’s church every Sunday. I had my life planned out and although it was comforting, at times I felt like something was missing–a worldliness I was unable to share with my congregation.” He leans back. “I felt like I couldn’t always relate to the struggles they came to me with. I felt limited in my knowledge and guidance, and I determined then, that when my son was of age, I’d give him the freedom to explore life a little more so that when he stepped into his role, he would be more prepared to minister to his flock’s needs.” He nods over at the doors that lead to the ice. “That’s why I’ve always allowed him to pursue sports. Even on a high level. Why I didn’t keep him from sowing his oats, from getting an education, from seeing the world. All of this was just experience for what came next; the Kingdom.”
“That was very forward thinking of you,” I say, because I’m not sure what this is about or what he wants from me. “Axel is a good leader. He’s dedicated to his teammates and friends.”
“It’s my understanding you two have become more serious than his prior relationships.”
Heat prickles on my neck. I’m not sure it’s because I’m talking to a minister or Axel’s father. Maybe both. “We have.”
“The one demand I have made of my son in exchange for this freedom is that he return home to minister to the Kingdom when he graduates.”
“He’s told me and he seems prepared for that.”
“Good,” he says quietly, then lifts his chin. “Has he told you that to fulfill his duties he’ll need to present himself in a certain way–a particular lifestyle?”
“You mean like the tattoos and piercings?”
“As much as I personally dislike them, they’re relatable to our younger congregants.” He shifts. “No, I mean that Axel will need the right kind of woman to support him for the rest of his life. Someone who can handle the scrutiny of an international congregation. She’ll need the background and backbone of a saint.”
A wave of anxiety unfurls in my chest. “What are you saying?”
“I’m aware of your history, Nadia. Of the athletes you’ve spent the last four years persuing. I know about the pornography and the online accounts. This kind of lifestyle, this past, will follow my son around like a cloak of sin.” His expression turns grave. “It will follow our entire family around, undoing everything we’ve worked so hard for.”
My jaw drops but before I can formulate any words, to ask him how he knows about the LonelyFans account, or anything else about me, he adds, “The conversation I had with Axel after the game was decisive. He’s choosing his family and his future. Regrettably, you will not be a part of that and I’m afraid my son hasn’t come out of the locker room yet because he’s avoiding having this conversation with you.”
“He’s breaking up with me?” I ask. “Because I’m not good enough for your family?”
“You’re one of God’s children, Nadia. He loves you and I’m sure you’ll find your own path.” He stands. “It just won’t be with my son.”
My chest feels like it’s being crushed by the weight of every stupid thing I’ve ever done. What Reverend Rakestraw says makes sense. I am a mess. I do have a soiled, dirty past. I’m a liability for a man like Axel–for a family like his. The idea of being with him–being his partner in whatever career he chooses was dumb. I learned that with Brent and all the other athletes I chased.
“What I can do for you, is make this video and report disappear. I can wipe them off the face of the earth and you can pretend they never happened. Neither you or Axel will be tied to this sordid affair and everyone can go back to fulfilling their expectations.”
I blink. “Everyone?”
He reaches into his pockets for his gloves. “Yes. It’ll be like it never happened.”
“But it did happen. Brent and CJ drugged and used me. They filmed me without my consent and sold it online.” I stand, the anger bubbling to the surface. “And they drugged your son–who probably saved me from it happening again when he accidentally consumed it instead of me.” I push up on my toes in an attempt to look him in the eye. “Do whatever you want to save your son, but leave me out of it. I own my past, flaws and all, and refuse to have it erased. The people that did this to me need to be stopped, and I’m not backing down because it makes you uncomfortable.”
“And this,” he says, pulling on a glove, “is exactly why you’re a liability, and why you’ll never be my son’s future.” He spreads his fingers. “Good luck, Miss Beckwith.”
He walks out the arena door, allowing in a gust of cold air. I’m shaken, not from the cold, but from trying to process everything that he just told me–trying to sort out what was real and what was just a twisted threat. I don’t know what he said to Axel or what he really thinks, but if he plans on breaking up with me, he sure as hell is going to do it to my face.
The partyat the Manor is full blown by the time I arrive. Someone hung colored holiday lights along the porch railing, and a huge blow up reindeer wobbles by the steps. Upbeat Christmas music pours out of the speakers and everyone seems to be in good spirits. Winter break starts in the morning and most everyone will leave campus and head home for the next two weeks. I’m not exactly looking forward to going to Florida. My parents will undoubtedly have questions about how fast I left at Thanksgiving. Will Holt may still be living next door and I’m not interested in ever seeing him again. It sucks. Home used to be a safe space, but not anymore. Axel became that for me, and now I’m not sure if I have that either.
I didn’t wait for Axel to come out of the arena, instead texting Twyler that I would meet her here. I needed a minute to recover from the force that is Nolan Rakestraw. I went home to change, taking off Axel’s jersey, and wearing my own clothes. Standing outside the Manor, looking at the crowd of people up on the porch and through the lit windows, I realize that for the first time since arriving at Wittmore, I feel like I belong. Not just with Axel, but with his friends. They see me as more than a jersey chaser or a girl ready to party. No one inside is looking at me for a hook-up, or an easy lay. They’ve embraced me for who I am, both as Axel’s girl, and Twyler’s friend.
I’m going to hate giving this up.
I climb the front steps and head into the party.
“Nadia!” Reid appears the instant I cross the threshold, throwing his arms around me. He’s had a wardrobe change and is no longer in the purple suit but a flashy cardigan with an argyle pattern and baggy jeans. “You need to go find your man. He looks like someone ran over his kitten.”
“He doesn’t have a kitten.” I’ve avoided my phone, afraid I’d pick it up. We need to talk face to face.
“Well, if he did,” he points to the kitchen where I see Axel standing by the kitchen counter talking to Murphy. “That’s exactly what he’d look like.”
He’s already lost his shirt, and his jeans hang precariously low on his hips. When I finally make it inside, I get a closer look and he doesn’t look sad. In fact, he looks like he’s doing just fine, with a bottle of Jack in one hand and a joint loose in the fingers of his other.
“Got a light?” he asks Murphy, who frowns as he pats down his pockets. His expression brightens and fishes one out. Axel holds out the bottle to trade, but I snatch the lighter mid-air.
“I’ll take that.”
“T,” he says, tongue swiping out over his piercing. It’s not quite the confirmation I need that he’s already had some of the whiskey, but he proves it when he grabs for me, drawing me close and slanting his mouth over mine. He tastes like whiskey, and the instant his tongue swipes against mine, I forget why I’m here. I’m dizzy by the time he releases me, his forehead pressed against mine. “Fuck, you taste good.”
I, in and exhale, trying to steady myself, but it’s really hard when he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me.
“You weren’t outside the arena after the game,” he says, eyes narrowed at my shirt. “And you changed.” He fingers the hem of my sweater. “You know I like it when you wear my jersey.”
I tilt my head. “You’re drunk.”
“Not quite.” He hands the joint back to Murphy who’s smart enough to vanish, leaving us alone. “It’s been a shitty night,” he admits, rubbing his hand over his bare chest. “I just wanted to feel something.”
“I saw your dad was at the game.”
His eyebrow quirks, the silver glinting off the light. “Ah, so you were tipped off by the scent of pretentiousness and narcissism.”
I laugh, because he’s not wrong. But something is wrong. I can sense it.
“So that’s why you’re drinking again,” I say, curling my fingers into the belt loops of his jeans, tugging him to me. His pants hang so low, I can see the ‘T’ inked below his hip. “Because I thought we talked to one another when something goes sideways?”
“For once this isn’t an epic fuck-up,” he says, pushing my hair off my cheek. “It’s more of a royally fucked.”
“Come on,” I pull him toward the stairs, but they’re too crowded with people. Instead, I push open the door that I know goes to a small enclosed porch just off the living room. It’s where they stash the stuff they don’t want getting broken or stolen during parties. It’s dark inside, only lit by the soft glow from the Christmas lights outside. The noises of the party are muffled. I see the old couch pushed up against the brick wall and force him to sit with me. “I have something to say.”
He looks up at me with those brilliant green eyes and my heart starts to break. And even though I’m putting up a good front, nothing about this feels safe. It feels like I’m dragging us in front of a firing squad, finger locked on the trigger, ready to pull the first shot.
Maybe this is what happens when you’ve been hurt so much, that it feels easier to do it yourself.
I take a deep breath and continue. “And you need to let me just get it all out, okay?”
“You’re scaring me a little, but okay.”
“I know you’re going to break up with me.” His mouth opens but I give him a look of warning. “I know your dad doesn’t want us together. That he thinks I’m not an “appropriate” girl for you now or for the future. And I get it. The way I used to be… it’s a mess. I’m a mess. I come with baggage, and history, and flaws. You’ve always accepted that about me and it’s made me a better person.” I take a deep breath. “So if you want to break up with me, I understand, we’ve always kind of been ‘for now’ and I hate it, but I accept it. But if you’re ending this, then you’ve got to do it to my face, and not leave me wondering what I did wrong like all those other guys did.”
Axel’s forehead furrows and he says, “You talked to my dad.”
“After the game.”
“Son of a–” He grimaces. “Yeah, well so did I, and he came to issue me an ultimatum.”
“Oh.” That’s not exactly what I was told.
“He doesn’t approve of my lifestyle choices. Or the sermon I wrote for the holidays. Or the fact I made a statement to the police.” He toys with the hoop in his bottom lip. “Or, to be totally, painfully, honest, my relationship with you.” His eyes cast down. “And if I want access to my family, in any way, I have to give up you and everything else I love.”
“Wow.” I drop back into the couch, “that’s quite thorough.”
“That’s Nolan Rakestraw. If he’s going to go scorched earth he’s going to do it fully.” He takes my hand. “But here’s the thing, darlin’, I was willing to give up hockey. Women. Drugs and drinking. I was willing to get up there on that stage at Kingdom and do the little song and dance–out of some genetic obligation–but the one thing I absolutely refuse to give up, is you.”
My heart flutters. “You told him that?”
“Unequivocally.”
Well. That’s not how Reverend Rakestraw presented it to me. “Interesting.”
“How’s that?”
“He told me that you were breaking up with me.”
He laughs darkly. “You gotta give it to him, for someone who bathes in holy water, he sure as hell plays dirty.”
I shift to look at him better. “I don’t want to be the thing that comes between you and your family.”
“He’s the thing that’s come between me and my family. It’s just a bullshit excuse to exert his control and I’m done with it.”
“Axel–”
He grabs me by the waist, lifting me like a ragdoll until I’m straddling his lap. “I’m not happy about cutting my sister and mother out of my life, but Cap and I talked about it.” His jaw tenses. “I can’t drown myself while trying to save everyone else–especially if they don’t want it.”
“So that’s that. You’re walking away from Nolan Rakestraw and his Kingdom.”
“Yeah I guess I am.” His hands slide down to cup my ass. “Good thing I’ve got options.”
There’s only one real option this man has and it really is a good one. I raise an eyebrow. “You mean the NHL?”
“If they’ll take me.” His eyes light with an eagerness I’ve never seen before. “You okay with that?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want.” I touch his chest, fingers running over the 110 above his heart. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I never allowed myself to really believe it. My future was too locked in and obviously it’s still a fucking long-shot, but yeah. I think I want it.” He tilts his head, looking up at me. “And it does matter what you want, because part of making me happy is knowing you”re there, sitting with the rest of the wives, wearing my name and number.”
I still. “Did you just say wife?”
“One day.” He grins, knowing it’s too fast, even for two impulsive people like us. “If I’m going out on my own, chasing this dream, then I’m going to have to have someone by my side to make sure I don’t make any epic fuck-ups.”
All I ever wanted was to be a WAG but I’d been told over and over I’m not good enough. That girls like me aren’t wife material.
“Hey.” Axel touches my chin. “Don’t freak out on me. Just know that no matter what happens, I want you with me.”
“Sounds like you need me.”
His hips push up, letting me feel how much he needs me. Wrapping his hand around the back of my neck, he pulls my mouth to his and mutters, “You have no fucking idea.”
Our lips meet, and this kiss is different. I feel it in the tremble of his finger tips, and the way my heart skips every other beat. We’re not two people running from our problems. We’re Axel and Nadia. Two people that know what they want. Each other.
“I love you,” he says, “and I want to fuck you so bad right now, but not on this couch. It’s filthy.”
I laugh, touching my nose to his. “Hey, so what are you doing for Christmas?”
“No clue.” His hand thrusts into his hair. “Guess I could tag along with the guys. Reid’s mom is always happy to see me.”
I nod, then offer, “Want to come to Florida?”
“Florida,” he says, a small curve on his lips. “You gonna be wearing one of those sexy bikinis?”
“It’s winter, Ax, Florida gets cold too.”
“Darlin’, I’ll always keep you warm.” His mouth and hands do the job, stealing another kiss until I’m not just warm, but breathless.