Wicked Games (Denver Rebels) (51 page)

Reid’s gut tightened even more at her wounded tone. “If my mom doesn’t want to accept you, it’s her fucking loss.”

“I know.” Nadia stared glumly out the window. “I was just hoping things would be different.”

“So was I, baby. And you have every right to be hurt, angry and disappointed. But what happened in there doesn’t change a damn thing between us.” Reid caught her hand, lacing their fingers. “I love you, Nadia, and nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

She bit her bottom lip, her expression softening with gratitude as she stared at him. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“For speaking up for me. For having my back. You’ll never know just how much that meant to me.”

Reid’s chest tightened. He was a big tough hockey player, but this woman right here could bring him to his knees with nothing more than a few simple words.

He leaned over and gave her a long, deep, powerful kiss that left her trembling.

As she sagged back against her seat, he twisted the key in the ignition and gunned the engine. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Nadia was mostly silent on the way back to the hotel, staring out the window at the passing scenery. He wondered what thoughts were running through her mind. He feared the worst.

When they arrived at the hotel, he surrendered his car to the valet, then cupped Nadia’s elbow in his hand and escorted her into the marble lobby. He saw some of his teammates in the hotel bar, laughing and having drinks with fawning puck bunnies. Across the lobby, Hunter was cozied up on the sofa with a pretty biracial woman in a low-cut dress.

As Reid and Nadia were walking toward the elevator, Hunter glanced up and spotted them. Surprise flickered across his face. He knew Reid had taken Nadia home to meet the parents tonight. He took one look at their gloomy expressions and raised a questioning eyebrow.

Reid just shook his head.

Nadia remained silent during the elevator ride up to the top floor. As they entered the suite, Reid offered to order room service.

“I’m not very hungry,” she said tonelessly. “Get whatever you want.”

He watched her walk off to the bedroom and close the French doors behind her, shutting him out.

Clenching his jaw, he grabbed the room service menu, called the number and ordered a bunch of stuff, selecting items at random. Just as he finished the call, his phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and glared at the screen. It was Avery.

He stabbed the answer button.

“Hey.” His sister’s voice was grim, laced with anger. “Ry told us what Mom said to Nadia. Jesus Christ, Reid. I’m so sorry. What the hell was she thinking?”

“That’s a damn good question,” Reid growled, his anger returning.

“I couldn’t believe she said that crap,” Avery ranted. “I would have thought Ry was playing some sort of sick joke on us if I hadn’t seen you and Nadia before you left. No wonder you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Reid scowled. “Stop apologizing. You’re not responsible for your mother’s offensive behavior.”

“I know, but I talked to her yesterday. I specifically warned her to be on her best behavior, and she promised she would. God, I could just strangle her right now.” Although Avery was two years younger than Reid, she was as protective over him as he was of her.

“Where’s Nadia?” she asked, sounding concerned.

“In the bedroom.” Reid flicked a glance toward the closed French doors. Nadia had retreated into the bathroom with her phone. He thought he could hear the low murmur of her voice. She was probably talking to Scarlett, telling her how she’d dodged a bullet by finding out his mother was a racist before it was too late.

The thought made him grimace.

“I can only imagine how she must be feeling right now,” Avery commiserated. “Has she said anything?”

“Not much.”
To me anyway.

“Shit.” Avery heaved a disgusted breath. “After you guys left, we all gave Mom an earful. Even Aria let her have it, and that’s saying a lot given that she’s been handling Mom with kid gloves for the past four years. It was like an intervention. We let her know how angry and disappointed we were and told her she owed you and Nadia an apology. Then we all got up and walked out on her.” Avery humphed. “Let her stew in her own juices for the night. Maybe she’ll come to her senses and realize just how badly she messed up.”

“I’m not holding my breath.” Reid crossed the suite, opened the balcony door and stepped outside. It was cold as fuck, but he didn’t care. He played ice hockey, so he was used to functioning in frigid temperatures.

“I love Mom, God knows I do,” Avery asserted. “She’s been to hell and back these past few years, suffered in ways no one should ever have to suffer. But you know what? Being a cancer survivor doesn’t give her a pass for behaving like a racist bitch. If anything, getting sick and facing her own mortality should have given her a deeper appreciation for the sanctity of
all
lives. How she could survive a life-threatening illness and come away with such warped views is beyond me.”

“You and me both,” Reid muttered darkly. The chilly night breeze ruffled his hair as he stood at the balcony rail, staring out at the downtown skyline.

Avery’s heavy sigh filled the phone line. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around what happened, trying to figure out how we missed the signs that our own mother has racist leanings. And then I started thinking about our childhood and where we grew up. Allen Park is, what, ninety-three percent white? If I’m not mistaken, it was even whiter back in the day. Think about that. We lived in a white neighborhood and attended white schools with only a handful of black kids. You went off to a predominantly white college and then entered the NHL, a league dominated by white players with a mostly white fan base. You’re on the road most of the time, so the majority of women you meet and hook up with are—you guessed it—white.” Avery paused a moment. “If you really think about it, Mom never had to consider the possibility of you meeting and falling in love with a black woman. It simply never crossed her mind. Now that it’s a reality, it’s forcing her to undergo another major paradigm shift. And she’s not handling it as gracefully as she handled being stricken with cancer.”

Reid listened to his sister in silence, his jaw grinding hard.

“You know, I’m not attracted to black guys. They hit on me all the time, but they’re just not my type. But if they were, I’d always assumed our parents would be okay with that. Like, neither of them would have a coronary if I came home with a black boyfriend.” Avery snorted. “Now I know better.”

Reid shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to suppress the seething anger and frustration burning through his veins.

Avery heaved a deep sigh. “Well, anyway, we’re picking Nadia up tomorrow morning and taking her shopping. Some retail therapy might cheer her up.”

“I hope so.” Reid blew out a short breath and shoved a hand into his pocket. “Before I head out tomorrow, I’ll transfer some funds into your account.”

“Why?”

“The shopping trip’s on me.”

“Aww, you’re so sweet,” Avery cooed affectionately. “But you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. You and Ari have been great this weekend, and I really appreciate it.” Reid smiled wryly. “Besides, treating all of you is the only way Nadia might let me spend money on her.”

Avery laughed. “I know what you mean. She wasn’t too happy about you putting her up in a penthouse suite. If Ari and I hadn’t been there, she probably would have marched down to the front desk and asked to switch rooms.”

Reid smiled. “You’re probably right.”

There was a warm smile in Avery’s voice. “Guess no one can ever accuse
that
chick of being a gold digger.”

“Not even close.” Reid chuckled. “No matter how much she insists tomorrow, don’t let her pay for her own clothes. I’m counting on you, Av.”

“You got it, Big Spender.” Avery laughed. “Ari sure as hell won’t mind your generosity.”

He grinned. “When has she ever?”

Avery laughed again.

Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Reid glanced over his shoulder just as Nadia stepped out onto the balcony. She was wrapped up in a large wool blanket she must have found in a closet.

He told his sister goodnight, then stuffed the phone into his pocket and stared at Nadia. “Hey.”

She stared back. “Hey.”

His heart thumped as he watched her come slowly toward him, careful not to trip over the long blanket.

When she reached him, he tilted her chin up and brushed his lips over hers.

Her eyes glinted up at him. “You’re cold.”

He smiled. “Then warm me up.”

“With pleasure.” She backed him toward one of the chairs on the balcony. When he sat down, she draped the blanket around his back and then climbed into his lap. He pulled her close to him, wrapping her in the thick folds of the comforter and looping his arms around her.

She put her head on his shoulder, her back resting against his chest as they snuggled together under the blanket, sharing body heat.

He kissed the top of her head. “That’s better.”

She nodded. “Much.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring out at the city’s twinkling lights.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nadia whispered.

Relief poured through Reid, so intense it left him dizzy. He didn’t realize just how much he’d feared losing her until she spoke those four words.

He gave her a fierce, rib-crushing hug and held her tight until she let out a muffled squeak and told him she couldn’t breathe.

“Sorry.” Grinning, he loosened his hold, but didn’t release her. No way was he ever letting her go. Ever.

“I’m not going to let your mother come between us,” she vowed with quiet resolve. “I won’t lie to you. I was very hurt and angry, so much so that I started having doubts about our relationship, wondering if we could make this work despite your mother’s objections. I thought about suggesting that we take a break to reassess our situation. But then I came to my senses. Your mother’s not the first person to object to our relationship, and she won’t be the last. As long as we love each other and want to be together, everyone else can pretty much go fuck themselves.”

Reid whooped in approval. “
That’s
what I’m talking about!”

They shared a fist bump that ended with the splayed-finger explosion. Then they laughed and hugged each other long and hard. When Nadia threw the blanket over their heads to keep out the cold, they started kissing and making out like a couple of horny seventh graders until it was time to go inside and eat.

29

N
adia had a
wonderful time hanging out with Reid’s sisters the next day.

After their shopping excursion, they went to a luxury day spa and got pampered with mani-pedis and 24-carat gold facials, which apparently contained real gold powder and moisturizing silk extracts that left their skin feeling as soft and smooth as satin. Nadia had never even heard of 24-carat gold facials, and she cringed when she caught a glimpse of the price. But Avery and Aria laughed and waved off her concern, just as they’d done all morning.

After leaving the spa, they headed to a downtown restaurant where they met up with Reid and the rest of the family—minus Arlene, who was conspicuously absent. They were joined by a large group of Reid’s childhood friends who would also be attending tonight’s game. They were all super cool, but the one who made the biggest impression on Nadia was Colt McAvoy, a homicide detective who was a dead ringer for the actor Jake Gyllenhaal. He took a friendly interest in Nadia, asking her questions about herself and entertaining her with stories about his and Reid’s teenage exploits.

She loved meeting all these people that had known Reid his entire life. The way they spoke about him warmed her heart and confirmed just what an amazing guy he was.

When their meals were served, Nadia made a show of grabbing Reid’s fork and carefully sampling his food. When he gave her a quizzical look, she joked, “For all we know, the chef could be a rabid Red Wings fan trying to poison you before tonight’s game. So just to show you what a ride-or-die chick I am, I’ll be your food taster.”

Everyone at the table erupted in laughter.

Reid grinned, staring at Nadia with a look of tender reverence as all the men roared approvingly, “She’s a keeper!”

Their large party also included Roark’s girlfriend, Hanh, an exotically beautiful Vietnamese woman in her early thirties. During lunch she hardly spoke to anyone but Roark, making little effort to interact with his children despite the absence of their mother. If Arlene had been there, it would have been difficult for Hanh to ingratiate herself with Roark’s kids. But without the barrier of an ex-wife, she had the perfect opportunity to try to win over Reid, Ryder, Avery and Aria. But she mostly ignored them and they, in turn, ignored her.

Nadia honestly couldn’t tell whether Hanh was shy or a snob. Whatever the reason for her standoffishness, she wasn’t doing herself any favors.

As they left the restaurant after lunch, Nadia couldn’t help wondering if Arlene would show up to the game. On one hand, she dreaded the thought of seeing the spiteful woman again. On the other hand, Arlene was Reid’s mother, and she’d made so many sacrifices to help him become a professional hockey player. Tonight was a big night for him. If he scored his three hundredth career goal, it would be a shame if his mother wasn’t there to celebrate his milestone achievement.

Nadia hoped Arlene’s maternal love would overrule her foolish pride.

The Joe Louis
Arena had the electric atmosphere of a playoff game that night.

When they arrived, the place was packed and Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” was blasting over the sound system. As they moved through the buzzing crowd, Nadia’s stomach churned with a mixture of breathless excitement and nervous tension. She had to take several deep breaths and remind herself that this was only a regular season game, not the playoffs.

When they reached their seats, Arlene was waiting for them, sitting there all by herself.

Nadia was surprised to see her. Surprised and…relieved.

There was a humble, almost pleading look on Arlene’s face as she watched the group approach. When Nadia met her gaze, she could see the deep pain and regret in Arlene’s eyes, and something softened inside her.

Avery leaned close to murmur, “You don’t have to sit next to her. You can sit between Aria and me.”

Nadia nodded. “That’s probably best.”

As longtime season ticket holders, Reid’s family and friends had prime seats three rows up from the boards with a perfect view of center ice. There were so many of them, more than enough to give Reid his own personal cheering section—an image reinforced by the fact that all of them were proudly wearing his jersey.

Nadia had been given one of the seats that belonged to Roark’s parents, who had recently relocated to Florida to escape the harsh Michigan winters. They were coming home for the holidays, so Nadia was supposed to meet them during that time, along with Roark’s two siblings who had also moved away from Detroit. She didn’t know if, or when, she would meet Arlene’s side of the family.

As everyone settled into their seats, Nadia didn’t miss the way Roark squeezed his ex-wife’s shoulder before sitting down beside her. She gave him a small, grateful smile and then offered a polite greeting to Hanh, who sat on Roark’s other side. Hanh barely acknowledged her presence.

As Nadia looked around the packed arena, she was surprised to see so many fans wearing Reid’s jersey. But then she realized it wasn’t all that surprising. Reid was their native son, the hometown hero who’d founded a youth community center and regularly gave back to the city of Detroit. While these fans wouldn’t be rooting for his team to beat the Red Wings tonight, they apparently had no problem showing him some love.

But when the Rebels were introduced, Reid received way more boos than cheers. As Nadia glanced around the stands, she remembered Dawn Legette’s prediction from yesterday. She definitely couldn’t see this crowd giving Reid a standing ovation. But time would tell.

As for herself, she couldn’t wait to give him the commemorative plaque she’d had made in honor of his achievement. She’d tracked down his first youth hockey coach; his high school, college and NHL coaches; his idol Bobby Orr; and his father, who was his very first coach and mentor. All of these men had helped shape him into the hockey player he was today, so she’d contacted them and asked them to provide special messages for the commemorative plaque. She’d been too shy to speak directly to his father, so she’d sent her request through his assistant.

The cast bronze plaque had come out perfect, and the inscriptions were heartfelt and poignantly inspiring. She hoped Reid would like the gift.

As the two teams warmed up before the game, Reid glanced up at his cheering section and grinned. Everyone grinned back and waved excitedly to him. His mother looked ready to laugh and cry at the same time.

When his eyes met Nadia’s, she smiled and mouthed,
Kick ass, baby!

He winked at her and mouthed back,
Always
.

“You two are so freakin’ adorable,” Avery declared, seated to Nadia’s right.

“Aren’t they?” Aria grinned at Nadia. “Have you been to a lot of hockey games?”

Nadia shook her head. “I just became a fan this season,” she admitted.

Avery grinned. “Better late than never, right?”

“Definitely.”

They all laughed.

All banter ceased once the puck dropped.

Viggo won the faceoff and raced down the ice, handling the puck as dexterously as if he’d had practice in the womb. Seriously. He was that good.

As two opposing players bore down on him, he dumped the puck to Reid, who took off toward the offensive zone. Detroit’s goalie must have anticipated that he would try to strike early, because he came out of the crease to meet him. But as Reid neared the net, he deftly passed the puck back to Viggo.

With a quick flick of his wrists, Viggo fired a shot, catching the goalie off balance. He swatted at the puck with his blocker, but it clanged off the metal goalpost and into the net.

As the scoreboard lit up, loud boos erupted across the arena. Everyone in Reid’s entourage jumped to their feet, clapping and cheering as Viggo and Reid slapped high fives and hugged.

The Rebels had scored right out of the gate, drawing first blood and setting the tone for what would become a bruising, high-octane barn burner.

The Holdens were intensely fanatic about their hockey. It was their religion, the glue that bonded them in good times and bad. During the game they screamed at the referees, shouted encouragements to Reid and boisterously celebrated when plays went their way. They were diehard Red Wings fans, but when the Rebels came to town, they switched their allegiance for the night—a betrayal that generated good-natured trash talking between them and the home fans.

Two years ago, Reid had scored a hat trick in this very same arena, heroically leading the Rebels to a resounding victory over the Red Wings. These fans had not forgotten his performance in that game. The memory undoubtedly lingered like a bitter aftertaste.

Halfway through the first period, it became pretty obvious that a big part of Detroit’s game plan was completely shutting Reid down and keeping him from scoring that coveted goal. Their forwards battled him ferociously in the corners, throwing elbows and aggressively forechecking him. If he did manage to score tonight, it wouldn’t happen without Detroit extracting a pound of flesh first.

During a tense power play, Arlene reflexively grabbed Roark’s arm and hung on to him. After the Rebels killed the play, Roark and Arlene looked at each other and breathed an audible sigh of relief, then smiled shyly before returning their attention to the ice. Hanh, who’d spent more time texting than watching the game, chose that moment to glance up from her phone. When she caught the exchange between Reid’s parents, her eyes narrowed with displeasure.

If Nadia were Hanh’s friend, she would have advised her to put her phone away and pay attention to the game—or at least pretend to. She was Roark’s girlfriend, so she knew how much hockey meant to him, and this was a big night for his son. Texting during the game was not a good look for her.

Pushing the thought aside, Nadia returned her attention to the action on the ice. She felt herself tensing when she saw an unsuspecting Detroit player skating across center ice with his head down as he drove the puck toward the Rebels’ net.

Reid leveled him, a clean but brutal hit that knocked the guy off his skates and sent him sprawling across the ice.

The home crowd booed their displeasure. Reid’s brother and friends hooted at the newsreel-worthy smackdown.

Two other Detroit players retaliated by plowing into Reid, blindsiding him. His family and friends jumped to their feet in outrage, hollering for a penalty to be called.

Viggo and Logan had Reid’s back, rushing over to mix it up with the opposing players. There was a lot of violent shoving and shouting and cursing before the referees intervened. By then Nadia was on the edge of her seat, every muscle in her body tense. She didn’t breathe easy until Reid emerged from the scrum wearing a scowl—aggravated but unharmed.

Three minutes later, the arena erupted in celebration when Detroit’s right winger fired a shot from the blue line to tie the game at 1-1.

Reid’s family and friends reacted with disappointed groans, still bitter about the lack of penalties called on the other play.

The energy and excitement inside the arena were intense enough to blow the roof off. But there were lighthearted moments that occasionally broke up the tension.

At one point during a timeout, Reid was skating up the ice toward his bench when Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” began playing over the sound system. During the first verse, the crowd pointed to Reid and enthusiastically belted out the words “
Just a city boy
,
born and raised in South Detroit!”

Reid glanced up and flashed a crooked grin, an acknowledgment that sent a wave of warm laughter through the stands.

Avery leaned toward Nadia, her eyes twinkling with humor. “You know what’s so funny about that line in the song? Technically there
is
no South Detroit.”

Nadia grinned. “Really? There isn’t?”

“Nope. There’s a
Southwest
Detroit. And we grew up in the Downriver area, which technically
is
south of the city. But there’s no actual South Detroit.” Avery grinned. “But we Michiganders love the song anyway. It’s like our national anthem.”

Nadia laughed.

None of the home fans were laughing minutes later when Reid zipped the puck to Hunter, who rifled a slap shot past Detroit’s goalie and into the net. As the light above the goal flashed on, disgusted boos and jeers rained down on the ice.

Laughing, Aria pointed to the other side of the rink. “Oh my God. Look at that.”

Everyone followed the direction she indicated to see a rowdy Red Wings fan waving a big sign that proclaimed:
WE WANT THE ROCKET! TRADE FOR HOLDEN OR ELSE!

Everyone burst out laughing. Even the people around them guffawed with amusement.

The game was so intense that Nadia downed two beers without even realizing it. On the plus side, the alcohol loosened her up and helped calm her nerves. But the drawback was that by intermission, she had to pee really bad.

Normally she wasn’t the type who needed an entourage to visit the ladies’ room. But tonight, for some reason, she would have appreciated some company. But Avery had just gotten a phone call from a client and Aria had moved down the row to talk to Colt, who’d stayed behind after Ryder and the others left for the concession stands. He and Aria were deep in conversation, her eyelashes batting flirtatiously as they huddled close together.