Page 62 of Xander

“I don’t care. We stick together, no matter what.”

Her jaw dropped. “That sentiment will not be shared by your father. Henry will go ballistic if he sees us together.”

“Very soon, it won’t matter what Henry thinks.”

Her head lurched back as if just now remembering our conversation about her conservatorship.

Jordan sobered. “Please, Xander,” she said in a quiet voice. “Don’t file for my conservatorship. I can’t be under someone’s thumb again.”

“Jordan,” I placated with a heavy sigh. This wasn’t how I wanted to start the morning. “You know that the court requires you to have a conservator.”

“Only because I wasn’t of sound mind after my parents passed away, but that’s not the case anymore,” she cried.

“I know,” I said carefully. “But it’s still the law.”

“Then testify to the court on my behalf and appeal to revoke the need for a guardian.”

The idea had crossed my mind, but there was no way I could give up my last bit of control in this relationship—not while she remained apprehensive about us. “This is for the best,” I told her in my most soothing voice.

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. “Every time I spoke out against your father, he’d ponder out loud whether returning me to the institution would be for the ‘best.’ I didn’t realize until now that it was a backhanded threat for contradicting him.” Her bottom lip trembled. “P-please, Xander. I don’t want to live like that again, always wondering if I was one wrong step away from being locked up again.”

“I’d never do that to you,” I vowed.

She shook her head. “You say that now.”

“Jordan—”

“The only thing I want is my freedom,” she murmured with her head down, seemingly defeated.

Closing my eyes, I blew out a frustrated breath. I finally had her where I wanted. The only way I’d remain calm was a guarantee that she’d stay by my side. “We’ll talk about this later. Now get ready because I’m not leaving without you.”

Jordan didn’t move.

Exasperated, I ripped the sheets off her, revealing a perfect pair of mouthwatering tits. The ticking clock was the only thing stopping me from pouncing on her.

Jordan squawked in outrage when I plucked her off the bed and carried her into the bathroom. I carefully lowered her onto the shower floor and twisted the knob. She shrieked and swore when cold water doused her.

“What are you doing?” she cried out. “You’re mad!”

“Seventeen minutes,” I announced over my shoulders, striding out of the bathroom with one last regretful glance at her beautiful body.

“Uninvited puck bunnies aren’t allowed at practice. Did one of the players invite you? Otherwise, you need to go.” One of Halifax Trojan’s administrative staff scowled at Jordan. He didn’t recognize the person directing her to the bleachers since my baseball hat was pulled low, camouflaging my face.

Jordan appeared relieved by the rule, not wanting to sit in for my practice. The reaction pissed me off. “She isn’t a fucking puck bunny,” I barked at his disrespectful face. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Jordan opened her mouth to protest, but I squeezed her hand so tight that her voice came out as a mewl. I had reached the end of my rope with her denial and wouldn’t tolerate more contradiction.

“Xander Maxwell.” The man’s eyes blew wide. “I didn’t realize she was with you.” Still, his eyes darted unsurely at Jordan. “The coach said⁠—”

“She stays,” I declared, leaving no room for argument. I nodded at the security team standing by the exit to ensure they heard me. They acknowledged my order with a curt nod.

I contacted my cousins last night for security guard referrals. After finding out that I’d broken Henry’s nose, Damon immediately sent me a list, assuming the added measures were to protect me against my father’s retaliation. However, the two female guards who flew in from New York this morning were here to watch over Jordan.

I wasn’t about to allow a meet-cute between her and a nondescript male bodyguard in charge of protecting her. He only had to save her once to trigger some sort of Rescuer Syndrome. It might be a long shot, but still not a risk I was willing to take. The goal was to decrease Jordan’s daily contact with other men, not increase it.

My reasoning was proven within seconds.

The administrative staff returned his attention to Jordan, this time more appreciatively. He didn’t take her in carefully at first glance. She looked gorgeous even in simple black leggings and a jersey with my name on it, which I tricked her into wearing by hiding all the tops she had purchased. His expression warmed as soon as she untied her hair from the tight ponytail. Soft gold tresses fell around her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face and cherry lips. Heat blazed in his eyes while fire burned in mine.