“If you skate like that tomorrow, Crosby, Boston is going to destroy our defense!” Coach yelled down the hallway as we got off the ice.

“If Davis over here was doing his job, we wouldn’t have an issue!” he snapped back.

Damn.

“Or you could not be fifty shades of hungover,” Lukas added, throwing a grin my way. “See what I did there? I’m getting pop culture down,” he added quietly.

“No, man. Not in this case. Just...no.” The last thing I wanted to think about was Crosby tied up in handcuffs.

Ivy, on the other hand? That had been a sight to behold. Her silky skin spread out on my gray sheets, writhing against the handcuffs, waiting for me to please her, to fill her.

Fuck, I had to simmer those thoughts down or I was going to pop one in the fucking locker room.

There was a quietness in the locker room as we got out of our gear and hit the showers. Tomorrow we would fly to Boston. The day after it was time to go to war. The seven game series. The Stanley Cup Finals.

For a couple of the guys the locker room, it would be the last series they played in a Shark jersey. If I had to guess, Crosby and Davis were both going, but that didn’t matter. Not yet.

All that mattered was keeping my head in the game.

I finished dressing, threw my bag over my shoulder and headed out, walking next to Porter, who was on his phone.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. Of course, I care about the team’s image. Yes, I know you take your job seriously.”

I glanced over at his scowling face, and he mouthed, “Langley,” at me.

Ah, yes. Langley Pierce, our head of PR and Porter’s constant pain in the ass. I slapped him on the back. “Good luck!”

He flipped me the middle finger. “I haven’t done shit since I got here. Not one thing,” he growled into the phone. “Hell no, I don’t want to do that. Would you want to do that?”

I walked out into slight drizzle to the flashes of photographers and screaming paparazzi. It was usually busy at this entrance, but since the finals were this close? It was madness.

But, if I took a few seconds now and answered their questions, they were more likely to leave me alone when I was doing things like taking Hannah to the park or kissing Ivy on the pier.

“Connor!” One called out, and I turned, plastering a smile on my face.

Three. I could do three.

“Do you feel prepared to take on the Boston defense?”

“I think they have a solid line that’s definitely going to be tough, but I’m up for the challenge.” One down.

“How have you adjusted to having Hudson Porter as a Shark? It can’t be easy since he comes from Ontario.”

I glanced behind me to see Hudson tilt his head at the pap. He was notorious for not answering questions. He’d rather take a fine than deal with press after games, let alone practice.

“Porter has been nothing but an asset to the Sharks. He’s a terrific defenseman and a consummate professional both on and off the ice.” There’s two.

“Can you answer to the reports that you’re raising your niece? Our sources within the county say that you’re listed as her guardian while awaiting court dates.”

It had only been a matter of time before it came out.

“My niece is off limits.” Fuck the third. I glared at the pap who’d thrown the question out and then left the small area the paps were allowed to wait like vultures.

“Damn, they go after kids, here?” Porter asked as we walked into the parking lot.

“They go after anything that gets them a story. Paparazzi are fucking relentless.” I hit the unlock button on my SUV as my cell phone rang in my pocket.

“Bridgerton,” I answered.

“You’re not going to believe where I found your sister.” The investigator’s voice sounded excited and incredulous all at the same time.

Jessica. Holy shit.

“Where?”

“Your old apartment. Super said she showed up about a week ago. Said he didn’t think anything about it since she had a key, but there has been some pretty shady shit walking in and out of there.”

“Headed there now. Thank you.” I hung up the phone and rested my forehead against the frame of my car. What if she was sober and wanted Hannah? What if she wasn’t and didn’t? Fuck, there was no right answer.

“What do you need?” Porter asked quietly, leaning against my car.

“Someone strong enough to wrestle my sister into rehab.” Sarcasm dripped from my voice.

“Well, that’s illegal, but if you need back up, I’m here.”

I looked at him, debating. I’d only known him for a few months, but he already knew what was going on with Hannah. Hell, he’d installed her damn butterfly lights.

“You mean that?” Because damn, would he come in handy if Jess had any of those drugged-out ass hats hanging around.

“Lead the way.”

We walked into my old building and then waited in awkward silence as the elevator lifted us to my floor.

It was a nice building. Not top of the line, but not exactly the bottom, either. And if Jess was in there, doing what I thought she was, well, that stuff wasn’t done here.

I tried the door handle and then unlocked it with my key. Thank God I hadn’t put it on the market, or this would have been a nasty surprise for my realtor.

“Damn,” Porter commented after a low whistle. “And I thought you kept the place messy.”

Take out containers littered the kitchen counters, and there were piles of trash, clothing, and a couple of sleeping bags in the living room. I couldn’t wait to see what was in the bedrooms.

The drizzle had burned off, and without curtains, sun streamed in through the windows.

“Connor!” Jess laughed, high off her ass as she climbed over two guys in my bedroom. On my bed.

Score one for Ivy picking out a new one.

“Jesus, Jess. What are you doing?” I seethed.

“Living! What does it look like?” She tripped over her bag, and I barely caught her before she could hit the floor. At least she was dressed. Her jeans and shirt hung off her frame—she’d lost weight. God, I hadn’t seen her this bad since her early twenties. Right before she’d gotten pregnant with Hannah.

“It looks like you’re high as a kite in my apartment with two assholes who definitely don't’ belong here!” I snapped.

“Hey, dude. Who are you calling asshole, asshole?” One guy stumbled to his feet, the second one following shortly after.

Jess laughed at his repetition.

“Leave,” Porter said, stepping forward.

I was tall, built, even, but Porter was a fucking brick house. They didn’t call him a bruiser for no reason.

The guys shot a look at Jessica and scrambled out, leaving us in the bedroom.

“Really? Guys, come on!” Jess called after them.

“What happened to Joe?” I asked, all my hopes of her at least staying sober while she was with him shattering in an instant.

“He left me! Happy now?”

“Did you seriously just fucking ask me that?” I was seeing red.

The front door slammed, the sound of Jessica’s junkie friends bolting.

“Now look what you’ve done!” She furiously began to throw things into her bag.

“What? Scared off the guys you abandoned your daughter for so you could get high?”

She stopped, glaring at me. “Nice. Real nice.” She slid her feet into flip-flops and headed for the door.

“Jess, where are you going?”

“Not here, apparently. Not that you’re using it. Doorman said you bought some big fancy schmanzy place.” She stumbled into the wall but shook off my hands when I tried to keep her upright.

“You need to get sober.”

“You need to leave me the hell alone.”

Porter shot a look my direction, and I shook my head, giving him permission to let her pass when she reached the door. I wasn’t going to make her a prisoner. She had to make her own choices. It wasn’t like I could drop her at a rehab and force her to get clean.

She flung the door open and headed toward the elevator.

“You need to get clean, Jess. Please let me help you,” I pled, standing next to her as she punched the down button. “You have to. For Hannah.”

Pain shot across her face for a fleeting second. “You’re ruining my high.”

Fuck, I hated her like this. She wasn’t her. She was whatever the monster created, and nurtured.

“Sorry to be a downer,” I quipped back.

“Fuck this,” she muttered and opened the door to the stairwell. I followed her in and motioned to Porter to take the elevator down.

“What, now you’re going to follow me down the steps?” She clung to the banister.

“Yeah, professional athlete, remember? Steps don’t intimidate me. Even five flights of them.” I stayed right behind her step for step as she stumbled and cursed at me.

Every flight of steps broke my heart a little further. It was one thing to be pissed at her from a distance, to see what her choices had done to Hannah, but it was another to be forced with those repercussions up close.

My strong, kind, protective sister was in there somewhere, buried under the high and the withdrawals that would come. It would be her decision if she fought her way back to herself.

She burst through the door into the lobby, startling a few of the residents on their way in. “I swear, if they left me here, I’m going to be so mad at you,” she hurled over her shoulder as she stumbled through the lobby.

“I don’t care if you’re fucking furious, Jess. I need you to get clean, for Hannah’s sake, at least. Even if it’s just for a few days, I need you to sign papers to protect her.” I threw out the last as she pushed open the main doors, nearly falling onto the sidewalk.

Porter caught her and she staggered back.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you? His jock friends?” she spat at him, wiping a strand of stringy, oily hair out of her face.

“Yep,” he answered, zero emotion on his face. The guy was a rock.

Eric would have been heartbroken to see her like this.

“Jess!” I called out as she walked down the sidewalk. “Hannah needs you!”

“No! She doesn’t! She needs you. She’s always needed you. I just gave her what she needed. It’s been the most decent move I’ve ever made as her mother so stop giving me shit.” She looked at the street corner and started to wave her hands. “Wait! John! Ian!”

The two junkies got into a cab, shut the door, and sped off into traffic.

“No!” she shouted, “You ruin everything!” Her toe caught on the sidewalk, and she fell, sprawling on the concrete.

“Jessica!” I quickly kneeled beside her. “Are you okay?”

“No! I’m not! Just leave me alone!” She scrambled to her knees and started to shove the spilled contents of her purse back in.

I grabbed a spoon, tourniquet, and needle that were all in a little bag. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re telling me this shit is more important than Hannah?”

“This shit is all I have!” she wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Now get out of here. Go back to your mansion. Your perfect life.”

She tripped over her own purse strap.

“Fuck this,” I muttered, gripping her bag in one hand and tossing my sister over my shoulder with the other.

“Put me down!” She yelled, slamming her fists into my back. “Leave me alone!”

There were more than a few looks as we walked down the street to my SUV, but no one stopped us. I was torn between feeling relief that no one questioned me and anger that no one seemed to care that she was shrieking.

“I need you to listen to me for two damned minutes. If you won’t stay after that, I’ll let you go,” I promised. “You know I will.”

She stilled on my back, and I opened my passenger door. Then I put her down and tucked her sideways onto the seat. She narrowed her eyes at me and Porter, who was hanging back.

“I told you I won’t force you to go. But I get two minutes.”

“And then I get my bag back.”

Holy. Shit.

Did she really care more about the drugs than Hannah? Than me? Than everything our lives had been built on?

“Your losing time, Connor,” she reminded me.

My jaw locked, but I popped the glove box open and took out the tissue-paper wrapped present Hannah had left on the table on Mother’s Day.

“Open it,” I ordered her.

She swallowed and had the sense to be a little nervous, but she opened it. “Hannah,” she whispered, laying her own hand across the pink and purple plaster cast of Hannah’s.

“Yes. Hannah. She sat at my dining room table for twelve hours waiting for you to show on Mother’s Day.”

Jess’s eyes flew to mine.

“Yeah. Twelve hours. She had such faith that you’d show. That you still loved her. And when you didn’t, it broke her in a way that made me hate you. I’ve pulled you out of some shit before, Jess, but this is different.”

She looked up at me and then back to Hannah’s handprint. “She’s better off with you.”

“Yeah, she is. I’m not arguing that. But you didn’t sign your rights over, so she’s stuck going through court dates and technically in foster care—”

“She what?” Jessica screamed. “How could you let that happen?”

“Chill out!” I yelled back, not caring that we were probably causing a scene. “I have her. She’s safe. I’m her ‘foster parent’ or whatever. And you’re the one that let it happen, so don’t you dare blame me. You have to sign over your parental rights. The courts are getting ready to terminate them, but until I’ve adopted her, she’s in danger. They can pull her from my house at any minute if they think I’m unsuitable. Do you get that?”

She focused on the handprint. “You’re going to adopt her?”

“Yeah. It’s the only way to keep her safe.”

Her fingers traced the indentations in the plaster. “And I won’t get to see her, right? You’ll cut me off like mom. Because I am Mom.”

A stabbing sensation hit my heart.

“You get clean, and stay clean, and you can see her whenever you want. She’ll never be around you while you’re using. You know that. It’s why you left her with me in the first place.”

“And if I don’t want to get clean? If I think I’m fine just the way I am?” She met my eyes, blunt, but drugged honesty staring back.

“Then I’m here to beg you to go to a place where you can at least get clean enough to be declared competent enough to sign your rights over.” My voice softened. She held all the power, and I hated it—Hannah’s life was too important for this.

“I signed my rights over,” she countered.

“You sent her with a note that was written like a school excuse. There’s a bit more to it than that.”

“Just clean enough to sign her over? And then you can adopt her? She’ll be safe?” she asked.

A trickle of hope slid through my chest. Maybe I was getting through to her.

“That’s it. And then it’s up to you if you want to get clean, or do...whatever the hell it is you’re doing. Just please don’t take Hannah down with you.”

She didn’t look up, just kept tracing Hannah’s handprint.

“I’ll go.”

The relief that swept over me nearly took me to my knees. She’d be safe. At least for a few days, she’d be safe and cared for, and sober. And she just might stay clean long enough to protect Hannah by signing her over.

“Thank you.”

“Hey, how are you?” Ivy asked as I made my way in from the garage. It was after ten p.m., and she was barefoot, wearing just her pajama bottoms and a tank top.

I didn’t speak until I had her in my arms, her sweet scent filling my lungs, her heart pressed to mine. “I’m okay, now.”

Her arms wrapped around my back, and she simply hung on to me, simply stood there with me.

“Thank you for picking Hannah up from preschool,” I whispered.

“No problem. Did you get Jessica settled?”

“Yeah. She swears she’ll stay clean long enough for a judge to let her sign over Hannah, but I don’t know. I can’t make her stay there. I can’t make her stop using. I can’t make her do anything.” The loss of control had my head ready to explode.

“I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”

“You are doing exactly what I need, just being you,” I told her, resting my chin on the top of her head.

“Glad to be of service.” She rose up and kissed me, stealing my thoughts one by one with each stroke of her tongue, until she was all I could think about or see.

“God, you kill me,” I groaned, sinking my fingers into her hair and pulling lightly on the strands.

“Good,” She answered. “Do something about it.”

As if she knew exactly what I needed really was her. To have her under my control, her pleasure my responsibility.

“The mood I’m in…” I warned her. “Are you sure?”

“I can handle any and all of your moods,” She promised as she gripped my cock through my jeans. “Now, handle me.”

Hannah was asleep upstairs. If we were quick...and quiet...

I attacked, kissing her breathless. Our tongues dueled, swept, and caressed until her hands were ripping my shirt over my head and we were forced to separate.

A few seconds later, I had her naked to all that silky skin, and she unbuttoned my jeans.

“Get them off,” she ordered.

I dropped them to the floor, and let my boxers follow shortly after.

Then I turned her around until her naked ass ground into my erection caressing it between the soft globes. I set kisses to her neck and shoulder, using my teeth at times all while holding her against me with one arm, and exploring her body with my other hand.

“Mmmm, yes,” she moaned, as I squeezed one breast and the other, plucking and pinching her nipples the way I knew she liked.

She braced her hands on the counter and pushed back against me, sending a jolt of pleasure from my dick up my spine.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy, Ivy. In the best ways.”

My fingers delved into her wet, slippery core, and I stroked her clit, applying pressure in the exact way I knew she needed to get off.

“Connor!” She groaned quietly, rocking into my hand. “I need you.”

I tested her with my fingers, stroking two fingers inside her wet heat. “Perfectly wet,” I murmured against her neck.

She pushed back again, and I gave her what she wanted, lifting her by her waist and bracing her against the counter. Then I surged into her with one long stroke, surrounding myself with heaven.

“Ah!” she cried.

I turned her head and kissed her, swallowing her moans as I pulled her off the counter just to get my arm between the hard surface and her soft skin.

“I need to fuck you,” I warned her.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Please.”

My other fingers worked her clit as I kissed and fucked her, pounding into this incredible woman with sure, long, powerful strokes, letting the pleasure eclipse everything ugly in the day.

Giving my entire soul over to her and hoping she could wash it clean with her body, and maybe one day...her love.

Because I loved her more than I loved my own life. My career. Anything.

“Harder,” she begged.

I obliged. The sounds of soft moans and slapping skin filled the kitchen as I worked her higher and higher. Her breathing changed, her muscles tensed, and her pussy fluttered around my cock as she came, taking me with her.

I spilled into her, letting the orgasm drain me dry.

Letting Ivy soothe every ragged edge.

We came down slowly, with tender strokes of fingers and lips, until I slipped free of her sweet, perfect body and handed her the clothes we’d strewn everywhere.

I slipped on my boxers, just in case Hannah woke up as we walked down the hall, and we quickly sneaked our way up to the master bedroom.

Once we were under the heavy covers, with her body tucked up tight against mine, I let the tension of the day fall away.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” she asked, kissing my bicep.

“For being you. I don’t know if I could make it through this without you.” The honesty of the comment startled me, but considering how much I loved her, it was the least of what I could have said.

I needed to tell her. Soon. Just not the night before I was headed off to Boston.

“You don’t have to. You have me. I promise.”

“That’s all I need.”

And it was. She was. We were.

Everything.