She wasn’t about to explain the mess that was whatever it was with her and Ian to her sponsor. She loved Roger, but she really needed to get better girlfriends. Talking about sexy times with him really just felt all sorts of wrong.

Roger: Do you need to hop on the phone?

Shelby: I’m good, thanks, Dad.

Roger: I’d be a lucky guy if that were the case.

Shelby: You’re a softie.

Not that anyone would guess it from looking at him. Wiry. Flinty. More likely to yell at someone to get off his lawn than buy Girl Scout cookies? Yeah, that was her sponsor. But underneath it all? Total teddy bear. Sorta like someone else she knew.

Roger: You back tonight?

Shelby: Yep.

Roger: Let’s meet up for diner milkshakes later on in the week.

Shelby: So you can make faces when I dip my fries into my chocolate shake?

Roger: It’s our tradition. Text when you get back to the city.

After sending a goodbye text, she did not take one more sniff of the pillow that smelled like Ian—okay, an extra-deep inhale, but that didn’t count—and got in the shower. Then she headed out of her room for the rink and the afternoon face-off. It wasn’t until her alerts dinged on her cell phone that she checked the latest hockey news again. When she did, her belly dropped faster than an elevator with its ropes cut.

Daddy Petrov In Vancouver to Watch His Boys?

There wasn’t much of a story to go with the headline beyond a short clip of David Petrov standing outside the Vancouver arena signing autographs and giving the reporter a curt “no comment” when asked about his sons. Her gut sank anyway. David the Great was in Vancouver. This was not going to end well. Not even a little.

…

It was the first question a reporter asked Ian about in the post-game interviews. Not about Stuckey’s massive hit on Eggleton. Not about Christensen’s breakaway goal. Not about Blackburn’s call to arms in the locker room before they came out in the third period and came back from a three-to-one deficit to win in a shootout. No. The first thing everyone wanted to know about was what the great David Petrov had said about the game.

Ian exhaled a deep breath and the locks went down one by one. Click. Click. Click. “I haven’t talked to him.”

“Your dad rarely comes to games. Do you know why he is here tonight?” One of the reporters shoved an iPhone in Ian’s face. “Have you guys cleared the air? Seems like you and your brother have mended fences.”

“I’ll talk about the game.” Ian looked around at the locker room. Players were mostly dressed, packing up their stuff, and the vibe was good. Winning did that for a team. “Any questions there?”