The morning after was so cold but I had to be up anyway.
"You're going to the athletic wing?" Jax asked, sitting up from the bed. He was wearing an oversized black hoodie, his hair a mess, looking exactly like the kind of distraction my father had warned me about.
"I have a meeting with the Alumni Board," I said, checking my reflection in the small, cracked mirror by the door. I looked beyond reproach. My hair was gelled, my chin was shaved, and the C on my chest was straight. But my hands were still shaking.
"They want a progress report on the team’s image. My dad is going to be there."
"I'll see you at practice," I said, and I fled before I could change my mind.
The meeting was a nightmare.
The boardroom was filled with men in suits. Men who had played for Northwood forty years a
