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Forget turning out like my dad, a measly professional athlete. Or my mother, a mere award-winning songwriter.
was going to be Stanley Cup and rule the fucking world. I can’t remember who burst my bubble. Probably my twin brother, Wyatt. He’s an unrepentant bubble burster.
The first thing I notice about him is the scowl. The second thing I notice is that he’s still astoundingly good-looking despite the scowl.
course it is. That’s such a figure skater name. Let me guess. Short for something girlie and whimsical like…Georgia. No. Gisele.”
“Garrett who?” “Are you shitting me right now? You don’t know who Garrett Graham is?” “Is he famous or something?” Ryder stares at me. “He’s hockey royalty. This is his camp.” “Oh. Yeah. I only follow figure skaters.”
“Dad?” he growls under his breath. “You’re Garrett Graham’s kid?” I can’t help laughing at his indignation. “Not only that, but I’m helping with your shooting drills today.” His eyes narrow. “You play hockey?” I reach over to pat his arm. “Don’t worry, prom king, I’ll go easy on you.”

