Page 19 of Cross the Line

Mom laughed. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know you’re focused on your career, and I’m happy for you. But at some point, you will want to consider your future after your career.”

Hockey first had been our family motto for as long as I could remember. It was why our parents had driven us to the rink at the butt-crack of dawn almost every morning. It was why they’d taken on extra jobs to pay for our equipment. Why they’d agreed to let Levi forgo the usual high school experience to play in the NTDP even though it had meant his moving across the country when he was barely sixteen.

“Would you be telling Levi the same thing?” I asked, feeling my cheeks heat.

“She did the other day, actually,” he said around a mouthful of food. “Even asked me if I was dating anyone.”

“Fortunately, she knows better than to ask me that.” I flashed him a smug grin.

“Yeah. Because you’re a lost cause,” Levi teased.

I narrowed my eyes at him. He stuck out his tongue at me, safe in the knowledge that there was a table separating us. I mouthed, “Fuck you.” He merely smirked.

I lifted my chin. “I’m not a lost cause. I’m just not interested in a relationship. It’s a distraction I don’t want or need.”

I didn’t have the time or energy for a relationship. And if the past few years had taught me anything, it was that relationships were sacrifice, and love was painful. My parents had stayed together for my brother and me, only divorcing after we’d both gone pro. Not that I’d known that at the time. Not until after the fact.

But it still made me sad. That they’d set aside their wants and needs for Levi and me. It made me feel like I needed to prove that their choices had been worth it.

I thought of all the sacrifices I’d made to get to this point. The time and energy it took to get to this level. The wear and tear on my body. The things I’d had to say no to so I could focus on hockey. I was too invested to give up now.

Love wasn’t worth the risk.

“So, what’s your news?” Dad asked. “Is it about that sponsorship Levi mentioned?”

“Nope.” In the end, we’d passed on the deal with Brightside Sunglasses. They hadn’t been willing to budge on the numbers, so we’d walked. I knew Levi was disappointed, as was I. But I wasn’t willing to settle.

The fact that Levi had been willing to sacrifice a significant paycheck in a show of solidarity meant more than he could ever know. It had only made me feel even guiltier about my relationship with Carson. And it was a big reason why I’d made myself stop texting him a few weeks ago.

I’d made it a week before I’d caved.

I felt like a bad sister and a shitty friend, but I couldn’t seem to match up how Levi felt about Carson with the man I was getting to know. Especially not when everything I’d seen of Carson showed he was a man of his word. More than that, he was a man of action. And the fight, and his role in it, was a prime example of Carson’s willingness to do the right thing.

Lately, I even questioned the truthfulness of referring to my relationship with Carson as “friendship” when it had started to feel like something more. And something more, especially with Carson, was the last thing I needed for so many reasons.

Whatever had happened between Carson and Levi had clearly left a lasting scar on my brother. But it wasn’t so simple. Carson was sharp, perceptive, funny. Hot. And I was beginning to realize I lacked self-discipline when it came to him.

Maybe I was being naïve, but maybe if I continued to emphasize the positive things Carson was doing, Levi would be more inclined to forgive him for whatever had happened in the past. I didn’t need them to go back to being besties; I just wanted to be able to talk to Carson without feeling like I was doing something wrong.

And I was hoping my news would set me on that path. If nothing else, hopefully it would paint Carson in a more positive light.

I dabbed at my mouth with my napkin before setting it on my lap. “The fight at the LA/Seattle game and the subsequent fallout forced the league to admit that they have a culture problem. Thanks to our podcast, and our coverage after the fight, they’ve decided to require players to go through upstander training. The training will give players the tools to recognize and intervene when bullying or harassment occurs.”

Levi jerked his head back. “The commissioner listened to the podcast?” His voice rose at the end.

I laughed, amused by his reaction. I sincerely doubted the commissioner made time for our podcast, but Carson had listened to the podcast. Carson had brought it to the attention of the league, but I couldn’t mention that. Because then I’d have to admit that I’d been talking to the one guy my brother couldn’t stand.

For months, I’d been keeping this secret, and it was wearing on me.

Carson deserved the credit, even if I couldn’t mention him by name. “Actually, one of our listeners forwarded the episode to the league.”

“Wow.” Mom leaned back in her chair, her voice raw with emotion.

“There’s more.” I grinned. “The league is forming a council, an advisory board of sorts, to provide input on some of the suggested changes. They want to consult people who have typically been underrepresented in the sport—minorities, those in the LGBTQIA+ community, and women. And they asked me to be part of it.”

“Holy shit.” Levi sank back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“Logan.” A tear streamed down Mom’s face. “That is incredible.”