Game Changer by Kelly Jamieson Page 0,87

forehead.

“Be right there, Modi,” Steve says. He steps away from Jax. “Are you okay, Molly?”

“I’m…” I float a glance Jax’s way. “I’m not sure.”

Steve turns a glare on Jax. “She’s not sure.”

“It’ll be okay.” Jax moves to me. He cups my face in both hands and, nearly nose to nose, he stares into my eyes. “It’ll be okay. Got that?”

I nod slowly, mesmerized by the affection and heat I see in his dark eyes.

He presses his lips to my forehead in a long, tender kiss, then draws back. “We’ll talk when I’m done. Okay?”

“Okay.”

I’m blinking rapidly. My heart thuds against my ribs and my hands are shaking. I glance at Steve, who has looked away, his jaw tight, then I follow him and Jax back to the table where fans are waiting.

Blade returns with an ecstatic Josh and Cam, who are carrying T-shirts and pennants.

“We need to get these autographed!” Cam says.

“You guys have Steve’s autographs,” I remind them, tapping the big number of the back of Cam’s jersey where Steve signed it last year.

“We’ll get Jax Wynn’s, then!”

“Okay.” I get in line with them.

The boys are bouncing with excitement, and I’m vibrating with nerves and uncertainty. What did he mean, he fell for me? What, what, what?

When we get to the front of the line, the boys hand their pennants and shirts over to Jax.

“These are my nephews,” I tell him. I set a hand on Cam’s head. “This is Cam. And this is Josh.”

“Good to meet you, guys.”

“You too!” They both nearly shout. “You’re a great right-winger!”

“Thanks, guys.”

“I can’t wait till your first game!” Josh says.

“Yeah, same.” Jax grins. “The start of the season is exciting.”

“I’m so glad you’re playing,” Josh says, aware that Jax almost missed training camp.

“Me too.” Jax’s smile turns wry. He meets my eyes over the heads of the boys.

Once again, our gazes hold. I’m a buzzing ball of nerves and confusion. I don’t know what’s happening.

Steve’s signing a jersey for another fan, and he glances up. He gives me a wry smile and a nod.

“I’m done here in twenty minutes,” Jax says. “Can you stay?”

The boys look up at me. “We’re staying longer than twenty minutes, right, Aunt Molly?”

“Er, yeah.” We haven’t actually seen much of the festival yet. There’s also an open scrimmage we could go watch with about half the players trying out for the team this year. “We’ll be here for a while.”

“I’ll text you when I’m done,” Jax says.

Steve’s mouth twists up overhearing this, then relaxes. “You two have some stuff to sort out, apparently.”

I’m so frickin’ grateful to Steve for not making this a hundred times worse than it already is, although I don’t condone his threat to break Jax’s nose. I shoot him a grateful smile as I shepherd the boys away so the people behind us can get autographs.

We pass a face painting session and the boys want the Aces logo painted on their faces, so we do that. Then Cam and Josh want mini donuts, and how can I say no to that when I love mini donuts myself? We’re munching on those as we enter the practice facility to watch the scrimmage.

We’ve just found our seats when my phone buzzes. I pull it out of the cross-body purse I’m wearing. It’s Jax.

Where are u?

Watching the scrimmage.

I’ll find u.

I don’t know if this is a good idea with my nephews here. What are we really going to be able to talk about?

I can’t sit still, shifting on the hard bench in the stands, my muscles quivery and twitchy. I see him enter the rink area, looking around. I lift a hand, and he spots us and heads our way.

There’s room for him on the bench if we shift over, so I nudge Josh and Cam to move down. They’re big-eyed as Jax bumps fists with them.

There’s a buzz of excitement around us as everyone realizes who he is.

“Mini donuts,” Jax says. “My fave.”

Cam wordlessly hands him the paper bag, and Jax takes one solemnly. “Thanks, man.”

I’m shivering, both because of the cold in the arena and my nerves. I’ve barely had time to process what’s happening. Why did I say what I did? Why didn’t I lie? Why did Jax say that? I don’t understand any of this.

“So,” he says in a low voice near my ear, “we’re busted.”

I clap a hand over my mouth to stop my startled laugh. “I guess so, yeah.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do it. I should