Chapter 1
Killian
The Reed estate is like a Christmas card come to life. Even though I've been here countless times, its sheer size still makes me pause. The mansion's white exterior glows under thousands of twinkling lights, and each window frames a different holiday scene, like some life-sized advent calendar for rich people.
I park my beat-up Ford Explorer next to Mrs. Reed’s sleek black Bentley, which probably cost more than my mom’s medical bills for the past decade, then step outside, my breath visible in the frigid air.
The Reeds are nice people—to me, at least. But I’m nervous about tonight . . . and tomorrow. I wasn’t expecting them to invite my family to spend the holidays here. My fucktardboyfriend had something to do with it, no doubt, considering his annoying ass has been bothering me about it for the past two weeks.
How does he expect to endure an entire professional season in the NHL—when we’re going to be playing on two different teams over a thousand miles apart—if he can’t handle me being in Massachusetts with my family for a few weeks?
I guess I can’t blame him. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been freaking out lately about what next year might look like for us.
The trip he has planned with friends in two days does not make me feel any better. God knows what they’re up to, but it’s never good, especially when they’re dragging my best friend into it. Raiyne’s big mouth is what got him involved in the first place.
Why’d he have to tell Jackson that he recognized Zach Knight’s stepbrother?
“Holy shit, Kill! Look at the ice sculptures!” Emily squeals, pulling me from my thoughts. She’s already whipping out her phone to document everything. Ugh, sixteen-year-olds.
“Language,” Mom warns, but she's smiling as she takes in the winter wonderland before us. She looks beautiful tonight, if a bit tired around the eyes. The fact that she's walking on her own is a blessing I don't take for granted.
Lilly, my youngest sister, bounces on her toes beside my mom. “It's like we walked into a Hallmark movie.”
“It's just a house,” I mutter, adjusting my coat.
Emily snorts, still snapping pictures. “A house with its own zip code.”
Before I can tell her to dial back the paparazzi routine, the massive oak door swings open, and my heart does that stupid flutter thing it always does when I see Jackson. He's wearing dark jeans and a forest green sweater that makes his eyes pop, his chestnut hair styled in that deliberately messy way that probably took him an hour to perfect.
Fucking pretty boy.
His face lights up when he sees me, but I catch the slight tension in his shoulders. It's good to know I'm not the only one nervous about our families spending Christmas together.
“Mrs. Blackwell.” Jackson's demeanor softens as he greets my mother, taking her hand and kissing her cheek. “You look stunning tonight.”
Mom beams at him. “Such a charmer. No wonder my son's so smitten.”
Jackson crouches slightly to hug Lilly. “Did you get taller since summer? You're going to be as tall as your brother soon.”
“Then maybe I can kick your ass on the ice too.” Lilly smiles wide, bumping him with her shoulder.
Mom sighs again. “What is it with my children and their language?”
Emily's next, and Jackson doesn't miss a beat. “How many followers did that TikTok of Kill falling on his ass get?”
“Over a million. Want to help me make another one?”
“Touch your phone and die,” I warn, but Jackson's already reaching for me, pulling me into a quick, slightly awkward hug.
“Missed you, jackass,” he whispers against my ear.
“It's been two weeks, drama queen.”
“Two weeks too long.”
We walk inside and take off our jackets. Jackson graciously hangs them in the hall closet. The house smells like pine and cinnamon, and classical Christmas music plays softly from hidden speakers.
Mrs. Reed glides forward to greet us, looking elegant in a deep red dress. Mr. Reed stands beside her, commanding attention without even trying.
