Page 21 of High Sticking the Heart

“Sure, Dad. What exactly are you wanting to go over?”

His lips thinned. “Vincent. Or Mr. Langley, Dalton. ‘Dad’ suggests unprofessionalism.”

He’d hammered that concept into me more times than I could count. You’d think breaking that habit would’ve been easy since I wasn’t used to calling anyone ‘dad’ until my senior year of college.

“I expect the team to make it to playoffs this year, and to win them. There won’t be a repeat of last year, understand me?” I nodded, knowing that’s all he wanted—a silent show that I heard him loud and clear.

He stood, coming to lean against the front of his mahogany desk. “Dalton, you’re going to have a lot of eyes on you. People are already interested because it will be our comeback season, but you’ve added scrutiny due to the last name on the back of your jersey. A name I don’t want tarnished. And with all the attention since your public breakup a few months ago…well, let’s say you’re not off to a good start in showing me you can handle the pressure.”

I winced.

Yes, because it’s easy to bounce back from being broken up with via a note on our shared apartment door after losing the playoff game in overtime.

I wondered if he’d seen the tabloid from this weekend and that was what sparked this conversation. Probably not, or he’d have brought it up specifically. The man didn’t mince his words.

It wasn’t that I had a reputation. I didn’t share Jimenez’s playboy status, or have a gravitas like Monroe, who was known to essentially only give grunts for answers.

But my dad was right, the last name on my jersey meant I drew attention, and since the split with Emma, I’d continued to be a topic of conversation, mainly by her doing. Far enough removed from the relationship I could see that I was just a way to keep her name relevant.

Hopefully, Ari worked in an industry far removed from the sports world, and she’d never even know she’d been dragged into my mess by the tabloids.

“It won’t be a problem.”

He arched a brow. “So far, all you’ve shown me is how well you can hide away.”

God, the difference in how my mom and dad delivered pep talks was like night and day.

The heavily cologned air of his office filled my nostrils as I took a deep breath, trying to ground myself and swallow down my irritation.

I stood, wiping my clammy hands off on my shorts. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I represent you and this team properly, but I’ve got to get to the weight room for practice. Being late for the new coach wouldn’t be a good look.” His jaw ticked at the hint of an attitude in my tone, but he didn’t object as I walked toward the door to leave.

“See that you do,” he called after me. “And don’t forget, the Media Day event is coming up. You’re the primary face of this franchise. I expect you to set the tone for the season, Dalton. No slip-ups.”

I gripped the door handle, saying nothing as the weight of his expectations settled heavily on my shoulders.

“This team needs a leader. If you can’t handle the attention or maintain focus under pressure, let me know now, and I’ll find someone who can.”

My jaw tightened, muscles tensing at the insinuation that I wasn’t capable of living up to his expectations. That I wasn’t enough.

He seemed to sense my irritation and pulled me back in line with five words that always hit their mark.

“Go make me proud, son.”

He looked at me with an expression that was as close to a smile as I got from him. Every time I saw it, I was sucked right back to being a kid, watching other dads look lovingly at their sons. Wishing I had the same moment to share with mine.

Now I did. My dad was in my life now, in a major way.

I should be grateful. He’d given me this opportunity—stepped back into my life. I owed him, right? I couldn’t fuck it all up.

I gave a firm nod, reminding myself of my priorities.

No tabloids. No distractions.

No thoughts of Ari.

“Of course, Dad.”

TEN