He looked like he wanted to argue, to reach for me, to do something other than stand there with careful distance between us. But footsteps echoed from around the corner: teammates looking for their star player.
“Three more months,” he repeated, then turned and walked away.
I stood alone in the hallway, listening to his teammates congratulate him, tease him, pull him back into their celebration. Three more months felt both impossibly close and impossibly far away.
But tonight, I’d protected what mattered most: Adan’s moment, his future, his dreams. Even if it meant exposing my own carefully guarded secret to the world.
It was worth it. He was worth it.
He would always be worth it.
26
ADAN
Three offer letters. Three different futures. Three paths that represented everything I’d worked for my entire life.
I sat alone in my dorm room, the papers spread across my desk like a roadmap I didn’t know how to read. Tank was at the library—or more likely at his girlfriend’s place—giving me rare privacy to think. Outside, March snow fell softly, muffling the usual campus noise.
Detroit. Minnesota. Buffalo.
Boston hadn’t come through, but in its place, Buffalo had made an offer. Each letter represented a dream come true. Entry-level contracts, signing bonuses, the chance to play in the best hockey league in the world. Everything my parents had sacrificed for, everything I’d bled and sweated for, right there in official letterhead and formal language.
My phone buzzed with a reminder: meeting at 2p.m. Coach Brennan’s conference room.
Time to make a decision that would shape the rest of my life.
The past three weeks had been insane. After Nils had dropped his prince bombshell, media had descended on our campus like locusts. Reporters from around the world, all wanting to know about the secret prince who’d been coaching college hockey. But Nils had handled it perfectly—dignified, brief, always redirecting attention back to the team. Thank fuck it was all dying down now, as he had predicted.
We’d won the conference championship game with half the hockey world watching. I’d scored twice, knowing that somewhere in the chaos of cameras and crowds, Nils was watching with that quiet pride that still made my chest tight.
Now the Frozen Four loomed in two days. The biggest stage in college hockey. But first, I had to decide where my future lay.
I gathered the letters and headed across campus. The conference room was already occupied when I arrived: Dad in his funeral suit, as he called it, Coach Brennan looking professional but clearly proud, and Nils maintaining that careful distance we’d perfected over months of practice.
And then there was Floyd Beaufort, my agent. I’d hired him as my agent a few weeks prior, and he’d been talking to every hockey scout on the planet, but especially the teams interested in me. Thanks to him, I had three offers on the table.
“Adan,” Coach Brennan said warmly. “Ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I took a seat next to my dad, who squeezed my shoulder. Across the table, Nils offered a small smile that I felt more than saw. Three folders lay on the table between us, my entire future condensed into paper and ink.
“Let’s walk through each offer,” Floyd said. He was young, not even thirty, but he had an excellent track record, and I liked him. He’d listened when I’d told him what I wanted, that it wasn’t merely about the money for me. “Make sure you understand what you’re looking at.”
He opened the first folder. “Detroit. Strong offer, standard entry-level contract terms. What makes this special is McLaughlin’s personal interest. He’s told me directly he sees you fitting into their development system. They have one of the best programs for bringing young players along.”
The second folder. “Minnesota. They like that you’re a Midwestern kid, blue-collar background. It fits with their team culture. They’re building something special with young talent. You’d have opportunities early, especially with their current roster construction.”
The third. “Buffalo. Keep you close to home, great fan base that would embrace you. They’re in a rebuild, which means patience but also opportunity to be part of something from the ground up. With you, they might actually stand a chance to win some games.”
I studied each offer, though I’d already memorized the details. The money was similar—entry-level contracts were heavily regulated. It came down to opportunity, development, and something harder to define.
“I’d like to hear what everyone thinks,” I said. “Your honest opinions. Coach Brennan?”
Coach Brennan leaned back, choosing his words carefully. “Detroit has the best track record developing players like you. Their system, their coaching staff, the way they bring players along has been successful. McLaughlin’s interest in you specifically is also significant. When a scout champions you like that, it matters.”
I nodded, then looked at Nils. “Coach Anders?”
