Chapter 26
Avery
I'm standing at Liam's stove, flipping pancakes, when his hand lands on my ass with a sharp smack.
“Liam!” I whirl around, spatula raised like a weapon, but I'm laughing.
“What?” He grins, completely unrepentant, reaching around me to steal a piece of bacon from the plate. “You're distracting me with that ass in my kitchen. It's your fault, really.”
“I'm making you breakfast, you menace.”
“And looking hot while doing it.” He pops the bacon in his mouth, then wraps his arms around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. “This is my favorite sight. You, in my kitchen, wearing my t-shirt, making me food.”
“Very domestic of you.”
“I'm a changed man.” His lips find the spot behind my ear that makes me shiver. “You've domesticated me.”
“Hardly.” I flip the last pancake onto the stack.
“But you love it.”
I do. God help me, I do.
Trouble and Princess are sitting by the kitchen island, tails wagging hopefully. They've been so well-trained by Olivia over the past few months that they don't even beg anymore, just wait patiently for permission.
“They can smell the bacon,” Liam says, releasing me to grab plates from the cabinet. “Look at those faces. How are we supposed to resist?”
“By remembering that Olivia will kill us if we undo all her hard work.” I carry the pancakes to the table. “They get their own breakfast. Not ours.”
“Yes, Coach.”
He says it with that teasing tone that makes me want to kiss him and smack him at the same time. Instead, I watch as he feeds both dogs from their designated bowls, giving them each a pat before joining me at the table.
This has become our routine over the past few weeks. Most nights, I stay here instead of going back to my apartment. Liam insists it's safer and more private. There are fewer chances of being spotted coming and going.
But really, I think he just likes having me here in his space. And I like it too.
We settle into our chairs, plates loaded with pancakes, bacon, and eggs.
“I really enjoyed meeting your brothers,” I say, drizzling syrup over my pancakes. “They're great kids.”
Liam's face creases into a smile. “Yeah, they are. Caden's already talking about coming back for spring break like we planned. He's got this whole itinerary planned.”
“And Travis?”
“Travis just wants to eat pizza and go to more hockey games.” He grins. “Kid's got his priorities straight.”
We'd taken them to dinner after their game at Madison Square Garden two weeks ago, and it had been surprisingly easy. The boys were enthusiastic and funny, peppering Liam with questions about hockey and life in New York.
“You're good with them,” I tell him.
“I'm trying.” He cuts into his pancakes, his expression growing more serious. “I don't think I'll ever forgive John for making me feel like I didn't belong in my own family.”
My hand finds his across the table. “That's okay. You don't have to forgive him.”
“I know. But it's weird. I look at Caden and Travis, and they're John's kids, too. And I don't want them to feel caught in the middle of whatever fucked-up dynamic exists between me and him.” He squeezes my fingers. “Does that make sense?”
“Perfect sense. You're giving them something separate from all that. A relationship that's just about you and them.”
“Exactly.” His thumb strokes across my knuckles. “As for my mother, I'm at peace now. Or getting there, anyway. She is who she is. I can't change that. But I can have a relationship with my brothers despite all the complicated family shit.”
“I'm proud of you.”
“Yeah, well.” He looks embarrassed, the way he always does when I compliment him on emotional growth. “You helped. All that talk about communication and not running from hard things. It's paying off.”
“Speaking of your brothers,” I say, trying not to smile too widely. “Caden mentioned something interesting at dinner.”
“What?”
“That he wants to go into sports management. That you inspired him.”
Liam's fork freezes halfway to his mouth. “He said that?”
“He did. Said watching your career, seeing how you handle everything, made him realize he wants to work in sports too. Maybe as an agent or a team manager someday.”
A flush creeps up Liam's neck.
“You're blushing.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.” I'm grinning now. “Big bad Nova, blushing because his little brother looks up to him.”
“Shut up.” But he's smiling too, looking pleased and bashful and adorable. “That's actually really cool. Sports management is a great field. Lots of opportunities.”
“He said you told him to dream big. To not let anyone tell him his goals are too ambitious.”
“Because they're not. The kid's smart. If he wants to work in sports management, he can do it.” Liam sets down his fork, his expression thoughtful.
“Maybe I can introduce him to some people when he visits. My agent, some of the front office staff. Give him a sense of what the career path looks like.”
“He'd love that.”
“Yeah.” Liam's smile is soft, genuine. “Yeah, I think he would.”
My phone buzzes on the table between us. I glance down at the screen.
Jennifer: Can you come see me in my office when you get in this morning? Thanks.
My stomach drops.
“What's wrong?” Liam asks immediately, reading my expression.
“Jennifer wants to see me when I get to the office.”
“So?”
“So—” I set my phone down carefully. “My contract was for three months. It's up for renewal after the Stanley Cup Finals. This could be about that.”
“Avery.” Liam reaches across and takes my hand again. “I've been a good boy for months now. Whatever she wants to talk about, it's not bad.”
There's something in his tone, an edge of sarcasm I don't usually hear from him. I study his face.
“What do you mean by 'I've been a good boy'?”
He shrugs, but his jaw tightens. “Nothing. Just that I've done everything right lately. Stayed out of trouble. Been responsible. All that shit.”
“Liam.”
“It's fine.”
“It's clearly not fine.” I set my fork down. “Talk to me.”
He's quiet for a moment, pushing food around his plate. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m still getting a lot of shit, but they'll have to get used to it.”
But he doesn't say it with conviction. And that worries me.
I push down my concerns and squeeze his hand. “Jennifer probably just wants to discuss contract renewal. Nothing to worry about.”
“Exactly.” He stands, carrying our plates to the sink. “You're going to be fine. Better than fine.”
I check the time. If I leave now, I can get to the office by eight-thirty. “I should go.”
“Hudson can drop you off.”
“Liam, I can take an Uber.”
“Hudson's already up. He doesn't mind.” He types out a quick message. “Besides, I like knowing you got there safely.”
There's no point arguing when he gets protective and stubborn. So I change out of his t-shirt into the clothes I brought over, fix my hair in his bathroom mirror, and try not to obsess over what Jennifer might want.
Liam walks me down to the lobby, where Hudson is already waiting with the car.
“I'll text you after I meet with her,” I promise.
“You better.” He kisses me. “And Avery? Whatever happens, you're incredible at your job. Don't forget that.”
The drive to the office is too short, not giving me enough time to fully spiral into anxiety. But my mind races anyway, running through every possible scenario.
Best case: Jennifer wants to offer me a permanent position.
Worst case: They're letting me go.
Middle ground: They want to extend my contract, but with different terms.
I'm still running through possibilities when Hudson drops me off at the arena entrance.
“Have a good day, Ms. Carter.”
“Thanks, Hudson.”
The PR offices are quiet this early. Most people won't arrive until nine. But Jennifer is already in, so I head straight there and knock.
“Come in.”
I push open the door, my heart pounding.
But the moment I see Jennifer's face, I relax. She's smiling.
“Avery, sit.” She gestures to the chair across from her desk. “Coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”
“I'm okay, thanks.”
She settles into her own chair, looking pleased about something. “I wanted to meet with you this morning because the board had their quarterly review yesterday, and your name came up.”
My stomach flips. “It did?”
“In a very positive way.” Jennifer leans forward. “They're incredibly impressed with your work, Avery. The transformation you've achieved with Liam is exactly what they hoped for when they hired you.”
Relief floods through me so intensely I feel lightheaded. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“Which is why they'd like to offer you a permanent position. Not a contract renewal. A full-time role as the Renegades' PR Crisis Expert.”
I blink. “Permanent?”
“Permanent. Full benefits, salary increase, the works.” She slides a folder across the desk. “The details are all in here, but I wanted to tell you in person. You've earned this, Avery.”
I open the folder with shaking hands, scanning the offer letter. The salary is significantly more than my contract rate. The benefits package is comprehensive.
“This is incredible,” I breathe. “Thank you, Jennifer.”
“Thank the board. And yourself. You did the work.” She pauses. “There's one more thing. Once your current assignment with Liam concludes after the Finals, we'd like to rotate you through the roster.
“Work with different players who need image rehabilitation or reputation management. Think of it as being the team's go-to person for player development from a PR perspective.”
My mind races. Working with multiple players means more variety, more challenges, and more opportunities to prove myself.
It also means less exclusive focus on Liam.
Which should be fine and exactly what we need. “That sounds perfect. I'd love that.”
“Excellent.” Jennifer stands, extending her hand. “Welcome to the permanent team, Avery. I'm glad to have you.”
I shake her hand, still processing. It’s everything I've worked for. I float back to my office in a daze, closing the door behind me and leaning against it.
Then I grab my phone.
Me: I GOT IT
Liam: Got what?