End Game (New York Stars Book 1)

𝅘𝅥𝅮 𝄠 Erase/Rewind – The Cardigans

WHEN THE TAXI drops me off at Aela’s house after a crazy long journey thanks to an accident that got us stuck on the Hudson River Greenway, it’s with relief that she guides me to the kitchen.

Not only is this my favorite room in any house, but it’s also silent in here.

After making sure I’m settled with a drink, she puts Cameron to bed with the promise of her return in fifteen or so minutes.

The quiet, after the day I’ve had, is nice enough that I don’t even miss the news.

Someone once told me that peace feels like boredom to a child raised in chaos, and truthfully, it’s only since Liam came back that I realized how bored I’ve been.

The fear of being betrayed again made me isolate myself. And that I’m here, in the kitchen of a woman I’ve met once, tells me how extreme I’ve taken my isolation.

“Oh, hello.”

I blink at the young blonde girl who takes a seat at the empty kitchen table beside me. “Hello.” It takes me a couple moments to recall who she is, then I tack on, “Victoria.”

“You’ve got a good memory.” Her grin tells me that mental workout was intentional. “No one remembers my name.”

I grimace. “Been there.”

“You look upset. Are you okay?”

“I just had an argument with my brothers.”

She tips her head to the side. “A bad one?”

“Yes. The worst kind.”

“I argued with my sisters tonight too.”

“Oh?”

“I told them I’ve decided who I’m going to marry and they’re not happy about it.” She waves a hand as I sputter. “Family tradition.”

“To marry young?!”

She chuckles. “I’ll marry when I’m older, but I still know who it’ll be. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. I’m just saying their opinion’s their opinion. I don’t give a flying fuck what they think in the long run. You should feel the same way about your brothers.”

My lips curve. “You’re not wrong about their opinion being theirs…” The rest? I didn’t know what I was doing with my life at her age, never mind knowing who I was going to marry. Unsure if I’m impressed or terrified, I ask, “So you’re finding refuge at Aela’s too?”

She nods. “With Seamus. He’s a good listener and even better at shutting up when I don’t want to talk.”

That has me snorting.

“Why are you here?”

Her curiosity tells me how weird it is that I came to Aela’s, of all places, after an argument with my family, but I mumble, “I needed a breather with someone who wouldn’t judge me.”

“And Liam would judge you? Huh. I misread him, then.”

“No, he’s not like that.”

She purses her lips. “I don’t know much about relationships, but aren’t you supposed to run to the person you’re in one with when the going gets tough?”

“He was my first choice,” I assure her. “But he’s close to my brothers.”

“You thought he’d take their side?”

“No, I—” I don’t. He won’t. Right? “—I knew he’d take mine and I didn’t want it to ruin their friendship.”

Her brows lift. “That’s a very kind thing to do.”

My nose crinkles because the words are a compliment but her tone isn’t.

For a teenager, Victoria is more adept at giving shade than the media.

“What did you argue about?”

“They said I was dragging Liam down.”

“Down where?”

“You know, hockey? Making him play worse.”

She scoffs, “That’s it?”

“That’s all that matters to hockey players.”

“That’s dumb. They sound like shitty friends.”

I can’t disagree but… “Liam doesn’t have many people in his life. I don’t want to make that worse.”

She hitches a shoulder. “Sounds like he has three more than you if your brothers take his side.”

Well, ouch.

I rub my forehead. “Liam took my side with a couple family arguments and they say that’s my fault too.”

“Is it?”

“It’s not that cut and dry. He took my side because if it’s not hockey-related, it’s unimportant. He was just sticking up for me.”

“He looks like the type of guy who’d always have your back. I’m glad I didn’t read him wrong.

“If it’s any consolation, you two looked very happy together when you were at Conor and Star’s apartment.” She smiles as she gets to her feet. “I think your brothers sound like idiots.”

“You’re a very smart young woman,” I drawl.

Victoria chuckles. “Do you need another drink? I’m just about to get one for Shay and me.”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

I watch as she gathers some soft drinks from the refrigerator and waves a brisk farewell at me on her way to the door.

Just as I think she’s going to leave, she says, “Only you can decide your worth, not your family. And it certainly has nothing to do with how well someone plays a sport.”

Her derisive snort tells me what she thinks about that.

“She’s very wise for someone her age.”

I jump at the next intrusive voice, one who happens to be another un-Aela-shaped person. Twisting in my seat, I find Conor standing in another doorway. This one looks like it could head to a basement.

“Hello, Conor.”

“Hi. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You’re fine.” I glance at the door. “And you’re right. She’s very wise.”

He strolls over to the kitchen table, where I’m at, and sits opposite me. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

In this madhouse, I wouldn’t be surprised if he asked me to sit for a lie detector test.

“I retain the right to not answer,” I say lightly.

“Spoken like a lawyer.”

“I can talk the talk.”

He wafts a hand. “What do you think of Bradley?”

I frown. “The Stars’ coach?”

“Yes.”

Though I want to tell him that hockey and the Stars are not my priority right now, I hate Bradley enough that I’d like to share my opinion with the team owner. “He’s a jackass.”

Conor grins at me. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Star often tells me I’m a jackass.”

I groan. “I just realized why you changed the Liberties’ name!”

He winks. “It’s not something everyone has picked up on, but why is he a jackass?”

“He’s antiquated. Doesn’t listen. Stubborn. Uses plays that undermine the talents of his players. I also don’t think he gives them enough RnR time. Like, when Liam had a concussion this season. While Bradley stuck to the letter of NHL law when it came to medical advice, Liam could have used a couple more days to recuperate.

“They’re men. Not robots.”

Conor studies me. “Padraig told me that you had many opinions about the team.”

Studying my nails, I mutter, “I have opinions about a lot of things. Especially idiots who have no right to lead one. I bet you picked him as your coach because he won Olympic gold, am I right?”

“Of course.”

“They have the crème de la crème on their team. And he coached Canada. The motherland of hockey. Dude, he had an easy job. You should have gone with Robbie Mitchell from Vegas.”

“I should have? Why?”

“He’s got fresh ideas and he cares about his players.” I shrug. “Coaches should. You know when Liam was released, he dropped thirty pounds. Thirty. His agent had him convinced that he should keep the weight off.

“The following season, Mitchell moved to the Mounties. He told Liam that he should get a new agent and worked with a nutritionist, personally, to make sure that he gained the weight back even though it slowed him down on the ice because he knew that there was more to Liam’s magic than his physical prowess.” I click my fingers. “That is the sign of a good coach.”

“Did Liam fire his agent?”

I huff. “No.” But he’d better after that BS stunt he pulled today.

“Are you passionate about this because of Liam or because Mitchell’s good? Vegas didn’t make the playoffs,” he points out.

“Vegas sucks. They fucked up with the draft last year.” I sniff. “Their GM is a pile of horseshit. So’s the Stars’. Whoever thought it was a smart idea to put Liam and Greco on the same team then not trade Raimond before the deadline while Lewis is vital in offense is insane…”

He chuckles. “You know Justin Delaney?”

“Not personally but I know he sucks harder than Vegas’s GM. Trust me, that’s saying something. You went for what you perceived as being the best, but your inexperience with the game is clear.”

He pulls a face at my criticism but only asks, “When do you graduate?”

“I might not. Finals start tomorrow.”

“You’ll pass though. I’ve seen your grades.”

“Excuse me?”

He wafts a hand. “I’m a hacker.”

I play with my ‘35’ pendant. “That doesn’t come as much of a surprise with your associations, I guess. Still, are you supposed to admit to that?”

“Conor’s a renegade,” Aela drawls, returning to the kitchen and making me jump again. “He doesn’t care who knows what he does.”

“I’m untouchable,” is his smug confirmation. “And the only woman who could get to me is my fiancée so I’m all set.”

Aela tosses something at my chest. “Shay bought this for me as a gag gift.”

It’s in the Stars’ colors and I know it’s a jersey, so when I see the name on the back, I chuckle. “I’m sure Declan loved you wearing Liam’s name.”

“Didn’t get it over my head,” she says with a laugh. “You should take it. Wear it when you go home.”

I grin. “You’re a devious woman, Aela.”

“More than one way to stake a claim,” she counters as she pulls a pop from the refrigerator, tosses it at her brother-in-law when he asks for one, then plucks some juice out for herself. “And if your brothers are there, that’ll show him.” To Conor, she gives him the basic rundown of what I texted her earlier. “They told her she was ruining Liam’s game and his life.”

“As the team owner, I take offense at that.”

Aela snorts. “And as the man’s cousin?”

“I also take offense. He’s quite clearly besotted with you, Gracie.

“In fact, I’ll incentivize you not breaking up with him. I never cared about the Stanley Cup winner before but this year, I’d like to win it and you breaking my star player’s heart isn’t the way to victory.”

My grin widens. “Shut up.” But damn, that’s good to hear.

I know I’m not the easiest person in the world, but with how my brothers were talking, it was like I was half-demon.

Aela strolls over to the kitchen table and takes a seat at the head. When I’m surrounded by O’Donnellys, she murmurs, “What’s going on, Gracie? I’m happy you messaged but why did you need someplace neutral? Why not go to Liam?”

“Why? She’s family. Family finds solace together,” Conor says, confusion lacing the words.

She rolls her eyes. “Ignore him. He doesn’t share dick with his family.”

“Lies.”

“The filthy truth more like,” she mumbles. “Anyway, this is a safe space, Gracie, so if we can help, tell us how. Conor’s right about one thing: we’re all family here.”

“Or we will be when Liam proposes.”

Aela barks, “Conor!”

“You don’t know that,” I point out.

His smile is smug.

“So,” Aela prompts, rolling her eyes at her brother-in-law’s non-answer. “What’s going on?”

Still fiddling with my pendant, I mutter, “Do you want the long story or the short?”

Conor’s smile is kind. “Whatever helps you make sense out of what’s going on.”

Ugh. Liam has the best family ever.

“When I graduated high school,” I croak out, “I followed Kow and Liam around the circuit as they played in their rookie season.

“I had this friend from my last year of elementary school. When I moved to Montréal, it was the first time we were apart and I missed her, so, one time, I invited her to stay with us. I was excited when she came to visit. We hung out and caught up with everything we hadn’t been able to do when I was a thousand miles away.

“On the penultimate day of her trip, we were supposed to watch Liam practice—”

“Not Kow?” Conor inquires.

“He was resting up for game day. He’d gotten whacked in the head so they were being cautious, making sure he was ready to play.” My smile is weak. “Anyway, after practice, we were going to hang out with Liam, but she had food poisoning so she told me to go watch him on my own. I did because he’s Liam. He was so raw back then, all the makings of the talent he’d develop but so powerful it was intoxicating to watch.”

“I’ll bet,” Aela teases.

Flushing when I see their knowing looks, I mumble, “I skipped out early because I realized what a shit friend I was for leaving her to watch some boy run hockey drills. I came back and—”

Groaning, Conor interrupts, “You caught her fucking Kow?”

Aela gasps. “Shut up! That’s not what happened. Is it, Gracie?”

“It is,” I admit, trying not to smile at Aela’s double gasp. “We argued—”

“Of course. She broke the code,” is Conor’s immediate response.

The infamous code.

“In a sense,” I agree. Then, I snort. “Of course, Liam’s breaking it now too. And I’d have gotten over seeing them have sex on my bed—”

“So tacky,” Aela snipes.

“—if she hadn’t told me that I had no right to be upset about Kow and her being in a relationship. Not when she’d been putting up with me for years just to be close to him.”

“What a bitch!” Conor grouses, leaning forward, obviously invested in my story.

Oddly comforted that a guy agrees, especially after Kow accused me of whining, I nod. “I’d have dealt with it, really I would, but Kow’s Kow. He has so many notches on his bedpost, it’s now a toothpick.

“When she said that shit about them being in a relationship, he already had one foot out of the door and I knew he didn’t have a clue what her name was. And that just feels like the story of my life,” I finish glumly. “No matter what I do, where I go, who I meet, it’s never about me. It’s about the hockey players in my family.

“So, tonight, for them to tell me that I’m not good enough for Liam, it stung and it made me question some stuff, and I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” I admit. “If I went to Liam, he’d react and things would just… Their friendship is already on thin ice because of me. I didn’t want to do anything to wreck it further.

“I didn’t feel like being in a bar or a restaurant either. I just wanted—”

“A safe space,” Aela inserts. “You said it made you question a few things… like what?”

The ride over here might have been long, but it came with the benefit of permitting me a moment of introspection. That’s why I can answer:

“I ran from Montréal even though I was very close to Liam. I barely managed to graduate high school, but after I cut out the toxic family bullshit, I managed to get my bachelor’s in business. I came here and studied for my LSATs and then I got into law school. I forged my own path. Made my own way. All without the help of my family. I disconnected myself from them—emotionally, physically, financially. I realized that sticking around them was turning me into a ‘pick-me’ girl—”

“God forbid,” Aela jokes, making me chuckle.

“Now, I’m dating Liam. Things feel so right, like how they should have been years ago. And nothing’s how I thought it would be.” I rub my brow. “I hate my MBA classes.”

Aela blinks. “You do?”

“I do. I hate law. I hate… I hate hating hockey. How much of my life has been a ridiculous rebellion? Do I even know who I am anymore? I made myself loathe a sport that I love. How crazy is that?

“Hockey started because, when I was younger, I wanted to hang out with my dad, but all the shit I know isn’t just because I have random factoids in my head—”

“You’re passionate about it,” Conor remarks, his tone soft.

I nod. “I kept up with the game through following Liam’s career, though, admittedly, I didn’t realize I was doing that, dammit. It’s like I dissociated or something. It’s nuts.”

“Family does that to you,” Aela concurs.

“It does,” Conor chimes in.

“Everything’s changing in such a short space of time and Liam’s the catalyst,” I whisper, biting my lip.

The part of me he’s trained immediately expects his kiss.

My lips tingle with the loss.

“You can’t blame Liam!” Conor argues.

I raise his jersey to my chest and hug it like it’s him. “I’m not. I’m thanking him.”

Conor’s frown is loaded with his disbelief. “Then why are you here?!”

“Conor! She’s processing! Leave her alone.”

“No.” I blink. “He’s right. Victoria is right. Self-sacrifice, my ass, when they’re shitty friends. He’s my end game, just like I’m his. And if I have to knock some sense into his skull to make him see that and unteach whatever BS they tried to indoctrinate him with then I will. Fuck them.” I jerk to my feet, ignoring the scraping of the chair as I stand up. “Aela, can I really keep this?”

She chuckles. “The jersey? Of course!”

Aela’s barely had the chance to finish the sentence before I’m dragging it over my head as I make my way to the foyer, racing like I’ve got a rabid pack of wolves at my heels, which is when there’s a banging on the front door.

The noise has me braking to a halt. I am in the front hall of an Irish mobster’s house, after all.

Checking the peephole, I find Liam waiting for me there on the stoop.

The relief I feel at seeing him tells me I was a dumbass earlier—I should have gone home because he always, always makes me feel better.

I open the door.