Their conversation when they’d been on the team jet about a staged dinner replayed in his head. He’d been crystal clear about the fact that he wasn’t going to do that. Ever. Now she was making the suggestion to his dad, who was the bigger media get. Part of the allure of David Petrov was his unwillingness to speak to the press. The regular fans thought it was because he was one of them, a no-bullshit everyman. The truth was because even his old man knew he couldn’t keep up the pretense of being a good person if people started asking questions. That made an interview with David Petrov—especially the first one with both his sons—the ultimate career maker.

Shelby had ambition and smarts. It wasn’t just anyone who could create a hockey juggernaut like The Biscuit from nothing and then make a deal with hockey’s biggest club to make it the cornerstone of their media empire. He was twelve kinds of an idiot for not seeing it until now. Even the fact that she never brought it up was a clue—she wouldn’t want him to think of her as a member of the press.

With what felt like battery acid sloshing around in his stomach, he shut the window and went back to skate around the ice with Jorge. Needing the distraction and tapping into that coaching side of himself that always leveled out his emotions, Ian showed the kid a few tricks to get his speed up a little.

Jorge had a ton of heart. That tended to be just as important as the talent once a player got to the more elite levels. There were plenty of great players out there who didn’t want to put in the work or got burned out. Those heart players, though, they kept the team together.

After finishing up with Jorge, he made his way to the locker room, determined to get the hell out of here before the closing press conference that would only lead to questions about his dad, their relationship, and every other personal thing that he tried to keep private while living under the microscope he’d grown up beneath.

He had most of his stuff in his bag when the locker room door flew open and Shelby hurried in, relief clear on her face the moment she spotted him. It was a kick in the gut and it took everything he had not to flinch.

Oh yeah, wouldn’t want to miss out on your chance to make reservations.

“Ian,” Shelby said, hurrying over. “I’ve been looking for you.”

He just bet she had.

“To ask me to go to dinner with the old man?” he asked without bothering to look up as he loaded his stuff faster, zipping it with more force than necessary. “Did you manage to work out that you’d get to publish the post on The Biscuit?”