I pour the first pancake onto the hot griddle, and Danny claps with excitement. “Now, we wait for bubbles,” I tell him after I finish pouring the rest of the batter.
Ethan sets the envelope on the counter. “What teams specifically?”
My hand freezes, spatula in the air. “Both of the New York teams, New Jersey, and Pittsburgh.” I eye the envelope with suspicion. “What is it?”
“An early Christmas gift.”
“What kind of gift?” The words come out harsh, my mind racing. Is he going to one team and sending me to another? “If you’re not coaching, I don’t want it.”
He leans in and raises a brow. “You’re a stubborn little?—”
Before Ethan finishes, Danny squeals. “Bubbles! Bubbles!”
“Let me take over.” Reece appears at my side, nudges me out of the way, and steals the spatula. “I think I can manage pancakes.”
I hesitate until his mini-me is slapping his arm and chanting, “King! Bubbles!”
Aurora slips between Ethan’s legs, her back to his chest. “What’s going on? What is it?”
His arms wrap around her, a hand splayed protectively over her belly. “Just open it, Jax.”
I unfold the envelope and slide out a stack of documents. The top one bears the New York Stars letterhead.
The kitchen becomes too small, too hot. I glance from the papers to Ethan and back again. “How? Why do you have this?”
Players usually learn about a trade only after it’s finalized and they’re en route to their new team. Sometimes they find out on social media—not from their coach, over Christmas break, with no one else present. If it were a done deal, my agent would’ve called.
The corner of his lip twitches. “Read it.”
The first few pages are a standard trade proposal. My heart skips a beat when I see my name and a decent offer. “You’re trading me to New York?”
“I’mnot trading you.” The twitch stretches into a full-blown smirk.
Quickly, I scan the document, my thoughts a whirlwind of questions. Who will be my coach? I’m still holding out hope it’s Ethan, although he made his decision clear.
There’s no way he’s juststaying home. Ethan, a stay-at-home dad? Nope. He’d go crazy.
I flip to the signature page, and my breath catches in my lungs. His name is there: Ethan Blackwood, in fresh black ink.
But it’s not as the coach, and it’s not on the Huskies’ side.
“You’d…” I stare at him, completely dumbfounded, “own me?”
Chapter 39
Ethan
“I’d own part of you,” I correct. “Thirty-three percent of the Stars is mine. Rossi Investments owns the rest—privately.” Turns out, I wasn’t drafted to the team by accident. The Rossi family has held majority ownership in the organization for two generations. Now, we own it all.
“Same thing,” Jackson mutters as he reads the documents. “You’ll be the GM?”
“If you agree. If not, we rip up the contracts and forget about it.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance despite the anxiety coursing through my veins. I won’t be general manager without Jax. That requires staying in New York. The Rossi crew knew this, which is why Rocco showed up in LA with two offers in hand. “The transfer of ownership is almost finalized, though. I won’t be your coach much longer.”
Aurora peers up at me, brows pinched. “You’re leaving the Huskies?”
I nod. “They’ll be letting me go.”
She glances between the two of us. “Why?”
