Off the Ice
a deep, gravelly voice rumbled from the shadows beside him.
Jaxson stepped closer, his massive six-foot-three frame instantly blocking out the view of the city. He was dressed in a tailored, charcoal-gray team suit that made his broad shoulders look almost obscenely wide in the tight confines of the elevator. His short blond hair was styled, his rugged jaw freshly shaved, but his dark amber eyes held none of the corporate diplomacy the league handlers had spent the morning begging him to maintain.
He didn't care about the cameras that would be waiting the moment the elevator doors slid open. He reached out, his large, warm hand catching Liam by the forearm, his fingers squeezing through the