Connor Spears being called on the carpet by the best of the best. One related to him by blood, the married to his blood family member. They may be embracing a casual day with jeans and shirts, but their seething stare is a constant lately. But he’s the golden ticket, and they know it. He’s a little to cocky. Sitting there at a table overlooking Lake Spark in great weather in May in Illinois, it has not improved their disposition. His Uncle Declan is the first to speak, and that doesn’t surprise him. His stake in Connor’s hockey career is a little high, considering he owns the Spinners Hockey team he plays for.
He’s never afraid to voice his disapproval, yet he has a soft spot for Connor. How can he not? He married his aunt Violet, and she’s the best. More like a friend since they’re closer in age, plus her flower shop provides the flowers that he needs to charm the female population around town. Sitting next to his uncle is his father. Ford Spears and Declan Dash are hockey legends; they played together years ago and never left hockey behind. His father owns the sports complex nearby where the Spinners train.
“Why are we having this conversation yet again?” His dad asked him. Connor has been having the equivalent of “Girls Gone Wild” since he started in the league, and it’s no longer being tolerated. While his father isn’t his agent, he voluntarily took on an unofficial role as Connor’s manager and trainer without the title, lucky him. He also gets to throw in the dad card, too, yet Connor never minded. His father and mother had him when they were young, which means the age difference makes it a hell of a lot easier to connect sometimes.
So, if he wants to help guide his career, then so be it. Declan leans forward, telling him, “I’m begging you, for all our sakes, to cool it down with the partying,” he states. Then his dad speaks up, saying your multimedia coverage has often not been very favorable lately. Which, in turn, does not make your mother happy. Wow, his dad was going in hard guns. Not playing around with the importance of the subject, his behavior. “We made it to the playoffs, even after our shitty season, so of course, the team was going to celebrate,” he tries to tell them. Declan counters with, “There is a photo of you taking shots next to the goalie while lying on a bar top.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “So? I’m in my twenties. What else would I be doing to celebrate?” His Uncle Declan points a finger at him. “I swear I could strangle you.” “It’s off-season now. I’m strongly suggesting that you lie low. Straighten up your image a bit. You want to be in the media for your skill, not for your off-ice antics,” his dad points out. “Relax, I have one more thing, then I’ll focus on sleeping in, hanging with my little brothers, and hitting the gym.” Lifting his nose, my father asks with a hardened stare, “What’s one more thing?”
His grin stretches. “Vegas. The boys and I are heading there tomorrow for Briggs’s birthday. Don’t worry, I’ll be back for family dinner by the weekend.” But then his father forms a soft smile for someone standing behind him. “Hey, Hadley,” he greets her. Connor’s body tightens, and her name wipes his cocky grin right off his face. “Hi, Mr. S. and Mr. D..” Hadley Crews is a few years younger than him, his next-door neighbor growing up, and the daughter of a former baseball star. She’s also anything but polite when it comes to him. “Brielle, my sister, and your mom are hysterical.
They go on and on about that class you teach,” my father mentions. “Ballet Barre? They come every week, work up a sweat, then hit Jolly Joe’s right after class for cake. Balance, I guess.” “Brielle keeps asking me to check out her toned body,” my father reflects. Connor cringes at the thought. “Get it together,” he mutters. “None of us wants to know what you and Mom get up to.” “Passion doesn’t die, Son.” “Grabbing lunch, Hadley?” “Yeah, I’m just meeting Isla for a quick bite, then heading back to the dance studio. I’m teaching a group of eighty-year-olds this afternoon.”
“See? Work ethic and helping the senior population. You could learn a lesson or two from her.” “Trust me, I’m sure underneath her heart of gold, her mouth spits out wicked things.” Her eyes have a hint of wildness, the type that can make a man come undone if he isn’t careful. She’s always been the ballerina who dances with her hair down to Guns ‘n’ Roses. And her dark, polished nails? They dig into the skin as if she doesn’t want to let go. But that’s our little secret, one she wishes we didn’t share. Yup, you read that right, but the next morning, he turned her into a one-and-done.
But when she ends up on the Vegas trip and is dancing and drinking as if nobody’s watching, he takes control. However, the next morning, the rings on their fingers start all kinds of craziness when they get back. Some say they always knew it would happen, while others are hurt that they were left out. They plan to change things, but then decide to work through it when their truths come out.