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Copyright © 2024 by Red Diva Publishing LLC

All rights reserved.

Cover Design by Acacia @ Ever After Cover Design

Editor: Katie Kulhawik

Proofreading: Romance Editor, Nina Fiegl, s.p. www.ninafiegl.com

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Foreword

Dedication

Playlist

Prologue

1. Maddox

2. Bristol

3. Bristol

4. Maddox

5. Bristol

6. Bristol

7. Bristol

8. Maddox

9. Maddox

10. Bristol

11. Maddox

12. Maddox

13. Bristol

14. Maddox

15. Bristol

16. Maddox

17. Bristol

18. Maddox

19. Bristol

20. Maddox

21. Bristol

22. Maddox

23. Bristol

24. Maddox

25. Bristol

26. Maddox

27. Bristol

28. Maddox

29. Bristol

30. Bristol

31. Maddox

32. Maddox

33. Bristol

34. Maddox

35. Bristol

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

More Books by Siena Trap

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Foreword

A comprehensive list of trigger warnings for those who need them can be found on my website: www.sienatrapbooks.com

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For all the girls whose drunk pussies are writing checks that their morning-after sober self isn’t ready to cash.

You never know when Mr. Last Night could turn out to be Mr. Right.

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Prologue

Maddox

“Wheels, wheels, wheels!” one of my teammates shouted from behind me. Translation: skate fucking fast.

My chest heaved as I pushed my legs to the limit, racing to the corner where the puck slid free. It was Game 5 of the Eastern Conference Finals, and my hockey team, the Indianapolis Speed, was competing against the Charlotte Crusaders. The winner of this series would go on to play for a league championship. As their captain, it was up to me to set the tone, which was why I was busting my ass on the forecheck to beat the defender for the Crusaders, Hartley, to the puck. I had total trust in my wingers that they would be perfectly positioned for a quick pass and, hopefully, a go-ahead goal that would put us one step closer to advancing.

Each breath I took burned, my thigh muscles screaming with the effort, but I got there first. Stick down hard on the ice, I turned my body to survey where my teammates were placed. My eyes locked on Jenner Knight in front of the net, but before I could flick my wrist for the pass, Hartley slammed me between his hard body and the unyielding boards.

The air was forced from my lungs as my right knee twisted awkwardly against the boards with the force and angle of the impact. I could have sworn I heard a pop, a split-second before white-hot pain exploded deep within the tissue of the joint. With the weight of Hartley gone as he skated away, I dropped like a rock, the agony spreading rapidly up my leg.

I knew instantly that I was fucked.

I was thirty-four and had played this game a long time. I’d dealt with more than my fair share of injuries during my fourteen-year professional career. My knee was trashed, and even if I hadn’t torn something—which I was pretty sure I had—there was no way I would be taking the ice again this postseason.

The roar of the home crowd in Indy quieted, and medical personnel rushed onto the ice as fast as they could in their street shoes.

As I writhed, clutching my knee, one of the trainer’s hands unbuckled my helmet.

“Talk to me, Maddox.” The lead trainer, Sam, was assessing the damage. Even though it was obvious where my injury lay, he had to ask.

“My knee,” I forced out through gritted teeth. “Heard a pop. Hurts like a bitch.”

“Give me a number from one to ten. How bad is the pain?”

“Nine.” My answer had Sam grimacing.

Hockey players were tough. We played through injuries—including broken bones—all the time, especially at this point in the season with a championship on the line. It took a lot to admit the pain level was that high, but I knew there was nothing to be gained by sugar-coating it. This was bad, and it was best to wrap my head around it now.

“All right, let’s get you up.” Sam peered over his shoulder, motioning to players who must’ve been hovering close by to help me sit up.

Jenner and my other winger, Asher Lawson, looped their elbows under my armpits and hoisted me into a sitting position.

With his free hand, Jenner, one of my closest friends on the team for years, patted my shoulder. “How you holding up?”

“Been better,” I huffed out.

“Good thing we have vacation time coming up,” he teased.

I barked out a pained laugh. “Not too soon, I hope. We have unfinished business.”

“Damn straight,” Asher said from my other side.

Sam crouched so he was at eye level with me. “You good for them to lift you up?” When I nodded, he instructed, “Keep your right skate off the ice.”

Jenner and Asher heaved me off the ice into a standing position, only my left skate blade touching the slick surface beneath me. Fully upright, I wobbled, the pain darkening the edges of my vision.

I will not pass out. I will not pass out.

I am motherfucking Maddox Sterling. I have no business being out on the ice if I can’t handle a little pain.

Slowly, my wingers dragged me from behind our opponents’ net to the open door to the Speed’s designated bench that led to a hallway beneath the arena. They passed me off to the waiting training staff, and I was forced to hop down the tunnel on one foot until we reached the X-ray room.

As soon as my ass hit the bench of the medical table, I let out a sigh of relief. While the trainers removed my skates, I ripped off my jersey and the top half of my gear. My base layer was plastered to my skin, soaked with sweat, as we’d been in the middle of the third period of the game when I was injured. I silently prayed that my boys could break the tie in our favor before the buzzer sounded. Overtime was sudden death in the playoffs, and if we lost tonight, the team would be forced to travel to Charlotte for a Game 6. If we won, we would secure our spot in the championship series.

Even knowing I was done for the season before medical tests were performed to confirm that fact, I wanted the Speed to play—and win—a championship so badly I could taste it.

Our divisional rivals, the Connecticut Comets, had done it the prior year after beating us in seven games during the second round. As irony would have it, that series had come down to a Game 7 overtime.

That game still haunted me.

I’d taken a penalty late in the first overtime period—tripping their captain and face of the league, Jaxon Slate—putting my team down a man. My former college captain, Cal Berg, became the overtime hero, scoring the winning goal during that power play. I would never forget that moment, the sinking feeling of guilt layered with the disappointment of defeat. It didn’t matter that we had squandered opportunities earlier during overtime; I was the one sitting helplessly in the box, watching on as my team struggled and failed to kill the penalty I’d incurred.

So, this year had to be our year. We were one win—one goal—away from playing for a championship. And even though I wouldn’t be by their side on the ice, I would support my teammates as their leader. Knowing my boys, they’d rally for me; it’s what we did for each other.

“Maddox?” Sam’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“Yeah?” I groaned as he shifted my knee, bending it gently. Even that slight movement felt off; my knee wasn’t stable. I knew I was missing a ligament holding everything in place. It was only a matter of determining which one.

“We need you to lift your hips so we can take off your hockey pants. Then, we’ll move you over to the X-ray machine.”

I nodded, knowing the drill. This might be my first torn ligament, but I’d been around long enough to have scares. A strain could mimic the symptoms of a tear, but I knew that wasn’t the case tonight. So, the first step would be to rule out a potential bone fracture. Then, I’d be sent for an MRI at Indianapolis General Hospital. That scan would find any damage to my soft tissue.

Dr. Sanders, the Speed’s team physician, entered the room. He gave me a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Trying to make the win even more dramatic, are we, Maddox?”

My heart stopped beating, and all the pain faded away, if only for a moment. “We won?” I breathed out.

Nodding, he confirmed, “None other than our new rookie, Braxton Slate, with the game-winning goal.”

Closing my eyes, I let out a slow breath. We were one step closer to lifting that gleaming silver trophy high above our heads before our names were carved into it for all of eternity, immortalizing us as champions.

“Kid’s got great instincts,” I remarked.

Braxton happened to be the much younger brother of Jaxon Slate. Braxton had been sent over to us from Connecticut in a trade near the deadline in the middle of his rookie season and was currently living in my house until he got settled in Indianapolis. He was a great asset to our team, and it was a wonder the Comets had let him go, especially to a divisional rival. But from what I understood, he’d requested the trade. I couldn’t blame him. His brother’s skill level was unmatched; he was a generational talent, the measuring stick to which every current player compared their game. I couldn’t imagine living in that shadow, not just in the same family but on the same team. It made sense why he would want to branch out and spread his wings. Honestly, he was playing better hockey now than I’d seen from game film of the Comets prior to our matchups throughout the season. Indy was where he belonged, and we were glad to have him.

I only hoped the boost of adding yet another young, enthusiastic player to our roster would be enough to cover my absence as the Speed were championship-round bound.

The sound of post-game analysis and replays of Braxton’s game-winner, combined with the heavy dose of painkillers coursing through my veins, had me loopy enough to relax in the hospital bed as I awaited the results of my MRI.

Dr. Sanders walked in with another doctor, and my suspicions were confirmed. Our team doctor worked with a specialist whenever heavy-duty surgery repair was involved. I would lay good odds that the one accompanying him would be the best orthopedic surgeon in the Midwest.

Dr. Sanders spoke first. “How are you feeling, Maddox?”

My body melted into the mattress. “Whatever drugs you gave me, keep ’em coming.”

He chuckled. “Good. I’m glad to hear pain management is no longer an issue.” He stepped aside, gesturing to the other doctor. “Let me introduce you to Dr. Harris. He’s a premiere orthopedic knee surgeon we had flown down from Chicago.”

Nailed it.

“Hit me with it, doc.” There was no need for pleasantries. Facts and timelines were more critical.

Dr. Harris walked to the side of my bed, a tablet held in his hands. “Hello, Maddox. Unfortunately, the results of your MRI revealed a full ACL tear, which will need surgery to repair it.”

I nodded. “How soon can I be back on the ice?”

Dr. Harris huffed out a laugh, throwing over his shoulder to Dr. Sanders, “Athletes are always fun.”

“One-track minds,” Dr. Sanders confirmed.

Turning his gaze back to me, Dr. Harris explained, “I’m sorry to inform you that you won’t be back on the ice this season.”

I waved a hand. “I kinda figured. What about next season?”

His lips folded in, and dread settled in my gut. “The recovery time for an injury such as this is considerable. You won’t be able to put weight on the knee for three months.”

I did the quick math. It was late May, so three months from now would be late August. Okay, so I would miss the front part of the season next year. I could deal with that.

But any blossoming hope died at his following words. “Even for a non-athlete, recovery can take six to nine months. And with the risk of re-injury, I wouldn’t suggest pushing yourself to beat that timeline.”

The pity in his eyes spoke volumes about what he wasn’t saying.

When I didn’t respond, simply staring at him, Dr. Harris shifted uncomfortably, turning to Dr. Sanders.

Dr. Sanders stepped closer. “Maddox, with your age, it is possible this is a career-ending injury.”

I jolted in bed like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. But my racing mind honed in on a single word. Possible. Holding onto it like a lifeline, I asked, “Are you saying I can’t play again?”

He sighed. “It’s my professional opinion, and that of Dr. Harris, that we recommend you not push yourself to return to the game.”

I shook my head. “That’s not what I asked. If I follow through with rehab, can I play again?”

Dr. Sanders was used to dealing with headstrong athletes, so he nodded. “Everything in your recovery would have to be perfect. I don’t see you playing next season if you want to come back at all. You can’t take shortcuts in physical therapy or with exercises at home. And even then, I can’t make any guarantees. You know how it works. You’ll have to pass an extensive physical to be cleared to play.”

“Fine. Consider it done. A year off, rehabbing. How soon can we do the surgery?”

My mind wandered as both doctors prattled on about the intricacies of the repair surgery and when it would occur. I didn’t care about the specifics, focused only on the after, when I would work my ass off to get back on the ice.

The game was my life. I wasn’t just going to accept that a bad hit into the boards was the end if there was still a chance I could lace up again. I knew I was an old dog and the window was closing on my career, but in my mind, it wasn’t closed yet. I wasn’t giving up.

Come hell or high water, I would be back with the Indy Speed—with my teammates—as soon as I was healed.

That was a promise.

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Chapter 1

Maddox

One Year Later

One year.

Well, fourteen months and two days, to be exact.

That’s how long I’d been sidelined, watching on as my team struggled without me being on the ice as their leader.

I had been a helpless bystander, stuck in the press box when the Speed lost the championship a year ago, mere weeks after I was injured. They’d fought hard in my absence but still came up two wins short of winning it all. It was torture knowing that if I had been out there with them, I could have contributed, perhaps turning a couple of the losses in that final series into wins.

My entire career now boiled down to what-ifs.

What if I hadn’t been out there on that exact shift?

What if I hadn’t skated hard enough to beat Hartley to the boards?

What if I hadn’t wasted an extra second scanning the ice, instead trusting that my defensemen were stationed at the blue lines and ringing the puck along the boards to them while continuing to skate?

What if I hadn’t taken the penalty against the Comets the year prior, and we won that year?

It was enough to drive a man insane. But none of those questions compared to the one that kept me up most nights.

What if I hadn’t fucked around so much in my younger days and had settled down?

Since the injury, my life had been lonely. Even after getting back onto my feet, the female companionship that had been a constant due to my status as a professional athlete dried up. None of the puck bunnies—girls looking to score with a hockey player—were interested in a guy whose skates might never touch the ice again. Honestly, I couldn’t even be mad at them for being shallow. I’d used it to my advantage to get laid for over a decade. And I was willing to bet that as soon as I was back on the ice, it would be like a switch flipped, and they’d all fall right into my arms again.

But I couldn’t help but wonder what having a partner might have been like this past year. Someone committed to me who cared about the person I was beyond the game I played. Someone who would have been by my side during the recovery because they were my person, and my status on the injury report was secondary to the life we shared.

And it sure didn’t help that my closest friends were marriage-minded.

Not long after the championship loss, it came out that Braxton hadn’t just requested a trade from the Comets; he’d demanded it. All because of a girl who had broken his trust. He’d explained that he flew off the handle, needing to get away. But when she showed up in Minneapolis—where we had been playing against the Freeze in the finals—they’d hashed it out and gotten back together.

That summer, I got to know her, as Braxton was still crashing at my place and they were splitting their time between Indianapolis and Hartford. Dakota was a sweet girl and perfect for Braxton. Their young love made me smile while at the same time making my chest ache, knowing I didn’t have someone who looked at me like I was their reason for living. By the time the season began that fall, Dakota had moved to Indy and they’d bought a house together.

Jenner took over as my companion after Braxton moved out. He was the one by my side during the extensive rehabbing of my knee, which took far longer than anyone had expected. Getting old was a bitch, and my body had no problem reminding me of that after each physical therapy session. Jenner didn’t mind not going out with the rest of the team to Pipes, the local karaoke bar the Speed claimed as their post-game hangout. Instead, he was content grabbing a quiet beer at my place and watching the highlights on the local sports broadcast.

While I was the one physically wounded, Jenner’s heart had taken a hit. A while back, his wife had left him. The divorce was painful, and I knew he was still in love with her, so he rarely went out with the team. Three years later, he still wasn’t ready to move on.

Between Braxton and Jenner, I’d witnessed both sides of the relationship spectrum—the all-consuming love and the gut-wrenching heartbreak. Maybe I was better off single, after all.

Having a wife and a family seemed like a good idea when you were alone, but in reality, it came with a heavy dose of responsibility. I might be thirty-five now, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to have someone entirely dependent on me—whether it be a woman or children. I was still too focused on my career.

What was left of it anyway.

Placing me on long-term injured reserve for an entire season had allowed the Speed to use my salary cap hit to pick up additional players. None of it was enough to see us be competitive after coming so close and failing to achieve the ultimate goal. We hadn’t even made the playoffs the season following the championship loss.

That didn’t sit well with management, and they fired Coach Avery, who had been at the helm in Indy for the past seven years. Rumors were still swirling over who they might hire to replace him, but no decision had been made public yet.

I didn’t care who the new coach was, so long as I got to play. That was my primary focus—getting back out there with my teammates.

That was how I found myself standing atop a balance stability trainer—half a ball attached to a flat platform—on my bad leg, bending my knee to a ninety-degree angle before straightening. My entire weight was being held on a wobbly platform on a reconstructed knee as sweat rolled down my back. Gritting against a twinge I felt when I lowered myself for the tenth time, I pushed through.

Bad idea.

My knee buckled, and I crashed to the floor.

I was in the gym at Speed Arena, and Jenner was twenty feet away doing his own workout.

“Oh shit!” Jenner’s voice called out over the music we had filtering through the speakers built into the walls.

Closing my eyes, I let out a breath. My pride was hurt more than anything else. Knowing I couldn’t hold my body weight on that knee for long didn’t spell good news for being reinstated to the team.

Jenner rolled me onto my back, and when I forced my eyes open, his concerned brown ones scanned my face. “You okay? How’s the knee?”

“Fuck the knee.” I huffed, sitting up on my own power.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

Whipping my head around, I snapped at my best friend. “Too hard? That’s a joke, right? It’s been over a year, and your definition of ‘pushing it too hard’ is ten single-leg squats on a stability trainer?”

He slid off his backward-facing Speed ballcap and ran fingers through his auburn hair before replacing it. Blowing out a heavy breath, he clarified, “I just meant it’s not worth injuring something else. If the knee’s not ready, it’s not ready. You can’t rush the process.”

“What process?” I spat. “The one where I’m about to fail my physical and be placed on long-term IR for the second straight season? The last season of my current contract, I might add.”

The compassion in his eyes was what made it finally feel real. He already knew what I wasn’t allowing myself to accept. That it was over. That I wasn’t going to lace up for the Speed—or any other team, for that matter—ever again.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?

“Come in!” Jared McCall, general manager of the Indy Speed, shouted through the thick wooden door to his office inside the arena.

Turning the handle, I let myself inside.

It had been two weeks since I fell in the gym, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my fucking body to cooperate. The one thing I had always been able to count on—that had gotten me to where I was—had failed me.

The career of Maddox Sterling had been reduced to a bum knee taking him out of the game for good.

Jared smiled when I walked in, gesturing for me to take a seat opposite where he sat behind his massive desk. This was an office I didn’t often find myself in, so I allowed myself a moment to look around as I lowered my six-three, two-hundred-ten-pound frame into one of the chairs.

The focal point was a massive glass wall behind the desk, overlooking the arena. While I knew management sat in a luxury suite on game days, this wasn’t a half-bad view either. On the wall were photographs of his own career achievements. He had played and won a championship with the Houston Heroes alongside Ace Moreau, who coached the Connecticut Comets. There was the tiniest pang of jealousy that he had reached the pinnacle and now kept his hand in the game by orchestrating the moves of an entire franchise.

“Maddox, I wish I had better news for you today,” he began, and I forced myself to focus on the meeting.

He didn’t have to say what I already knew. “I failed my physical.”

With a nod, Jared confirmed my words. “I’m sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am,” I muttered under my breath.

“No man is ever ready to leave the game they love behind, and it’s unfortunate that the choice of when that occurred was taken from you.”

I shrugged. There really wasn’t anything to say.

“However, I do feel you are an asset to the Speed organization and would like to offer you a job.”

My ears perked up, and I imagined myself in the broadcast booth. Cal Berg had made a similar move two years ago after his retirement, and it didn’t seem like a bad gig. I would still get to travel with the team and connect with the players regularly.

“As you know, we still have not named a head coach.” Jared’s words snapped me out of my daydream.

“Coach?” My voice came out strangled.

Giving me a warm smile, he nodded. “Yes, coach. This past year, you’ve remained involved, even without being able to play. I’ve seen the way you coach up the players, pointing out sections of film that might be useful. You know the game, but beyond that, you know these players. An inside hire of a former player might just be the spark we need to get back to where we were a year ago.”

I still couldn’t believe my ears. Pointing to my chest, I asked, “You want me to be the head coach of the Speed?”

Jared chuckled. “I think you have what it takes, Maddox. Our team is young and fresh, so it only makes sense that our choice of bench boss reflects that. Too many coaches around the league are stuck in the past, but you’ve seen firsthand how the game is changing. We can use your recent playing experience to our advantage. You’ve been out there against many of our opponents and know how best to beat them. We wouldn’t have been on the doorstep of a championship without your leadership.”

I rubbed my chest against the ache of that defeat; it was still a sore spot, even a year later.

“And I believe that’s what’s going to get us over the hump. Our time is coming. I can feel it in my bones. So, what do you say? Do you want to have a part in making all those men’s—and your—dreams come true?”

My playing days were over, even if that was hard to accept. This was a chance to make up for what I’d lost, to still be on the ice with my boys, guiding them as they went to battle. I would be in the thick of it every single day. You couldn’t get much closer to the game unless you were physically playing it.

I’d be an idiot to refuse.

Rising to my feet, I stretched my hand across his desk. “You’ve got yourself a coach.”

Jared stood, clasping my hand in his and shaking. “Glad to have you back, Coach Sterling.”

For the first time since the injury, I was able to look forward to what lay ahead instead of lamenting the past and wishing I could change it.

And I knew exactly what my first order of business would be as the new head coach of the Speed.

“I thought we were here to work out,” Jenner said when I bypassed the gym and headed for the team locker room instead.

“We’ll get to that,” I promised. “But I have something I want to show you first.”

I could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke behind me. “I don’t know what to tell you, Maddox. You gotta keep using the ointment until the rash clears.” I rolled my eyes as he continued, “And honestly, in cases such as these, it’s best to be proactive. If you stop bringing strange women home, you’ll stop catching diseases on your dick.”

Snorting, I huffed out, “I’m getting about as much action as you are at the moment. Maybe save the safe sex speech for the rookies.”

Jenner pretended to sound affronted. “Well, excuuuuuuse me for trying to help.”

Turning into the locker room, I stood to the side so I could view Jenner’s reaction to my surprise. Eyeing me skeptically, he scanned the nearly empty stalls. It was still the off-season, and this room wouldn’t be filled with the players’ gear for a few months.

Finally, his gaze landed on the lone Speed jersey hanging from a stall in the center. The red fabric, featuring a black racecar emblem, popped against the light wood accents of the room.

Jenner’s breathing hitched before his head whipped to me. “What is this?”

Nodding toward the jersey, I prompted, “Why don’t you go see for yourself.”

Stepping forward cautiously, he crossed to where the jersey—his jersey—hung. Fingering the material, his touch traced a path over the black C stitched in the upper left corner of the chest, indicating that he was the captain of the Indianapolis Speed.

He stepped back, shaking his head. “No. I can’t accept this.”

Clapping a hand on his shoulder, I smiled at my best friend on the team. “You did a good thing, holding it for me while I was out injured last year. But we both know a captain leads from the ice, not the press box.”

When he met my eye, I could see my pain reflected in his. He was holding onto my career as tightly as I had. He came into the league after me, so I’d always been there for him. He wasn’t ready to let me go, to take my place. And while I could respect that, it was time to move on, to move forward.

It was a new era for the Speed, and this time, I would be leading from behind the bench.

“Maddox.” Jenner’s voice broke. “You’re the captain.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m the head coach. You are the captain.”

Brown eyes bulged at my announcement. “Head coach?”

I held out both arms. “What? Do I not look like head coach material?”

His gaze sharpened. “You better not be fucking with me right now.”

Laughing, I gave him a playful punch to the shoulder. “Signed the papers last night. It’s official. Say hello to your new bench boss.”

Jenner pulled me in for a hug, slapping me on the back a few times for good measure. Stepping back, he shook his head. “Unreal.”

“Yeah.” I huffed out a laugh. “Almost couldn’t believe it myself when McCall offered me the job. Said something about wanting a young, fresh head coach to match the energy of the team.” Smirking, I threw in, “Clearly, he forgot about your old ass out there.”

At thirty-one, Jenner was a few years younger than me. Even though, for most people, he was relatively young, in sports, he was in the back half of his career. His most recent contract ran for three more years, but I knew firsthand how that didn’t mean shit. Terms and signatures on paper didn’t hold up when your body gave out.

Shoving me, he stepped past where I stood to take the jersey off the hanger and slipped it over his head. He did a slow spin, showcasing his name, Knight, and number, seventy-five, stitched onto the back.

“Looks good on you,” I mused.

Smirking, Jenner replied, “Well, red is my color, so there’s that.”

We both chuckled. As a redheaded man, he took his fair share of teasing over it, but no one knew better than Jenner how to lean in and laugh with the group instead of letting them laugh at him.

“Tell me the truth,” Jenner said.

I raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“How hard are you gonna ride us?”

Keeping a straight face, I replied, “So hard that you won’t miss getting laid.”

Head tipped back, Jenner’s booming laughter filled the space. Pretending to wipe tears from his eyes, he took deep breaths as he came back down. “Fuck, it’s good to have you back.”

Yeah, it felt pretty fucking great to be back with the Speed. Even if my role had changed.

This was my team. This was where I belonged.

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Chapter 2

Bristol

Nothing but farmland extended before me as far as the eye could see as I drove straight through the heart of the Midwest. A twelve-hour solo road trip was far too long to be left alone with my thoughts—especially the ones about why I was relocating from Hartford, Connecticut, to Indianapolis, Indiana.

I’d made a mistake. I knew that. I had broken the rules and gotten attached. And now I was running away from that painful past.

For the better part of the last three years, I’d been dating Levi Nixon, forward for the Connecticut Comets hockey team. It wasn’t the healthiest relationship I’d ever been a part of, but I’d had my blinders on and refused to acknowledge the red flags that he waved around like a damn bullfighter.

Nix, as I called him, had insisted on an open relationship. He’d explained that I was too young to be tied down and he didn’t want me to be lonely when he traveled with the team. I ate that shit up, thinking he cared about me, giving me the time and space to spread my wings while finishing college. When in reality, he was fucking anything with legs because he literally couldn’t keep it in his pants while I didn’t date—or sleep—with any other man but him.

I’d always known there were other women—I would have been a fool not to—but I’d convinced myself that if I was overly accommodating that, eventually, he would see that I was the devoted woman he needed by his side as he navigated the ups and downs of his professional career.

That day never came.

Instead, I’d grown tired of waiting for him and taken matters into my own hands.

A few months ago, I told him I was old enough to know what I wanted for my life and that he was it. I wasn’t asking for a ring or anything, but I wanted to be the only woman he was seeing.

I’d asked Nix for exclusivity, and he dropped me like a hot potato.

In hindsight, I should have seen it coming. But I‘d been blinded by the off-the-charts hot sex we had when he did call me up to come over.

He might have been an asshole, but Nix knew how to fuck.

Yeah, probably because he was banging his way through North America.

Sighing, I focused on the highway, hoping the monotonous landscape would allow my mind to veg out and shut off for a while.

But apparently, even that was too much to ask.

My path to Nix could be traced back to a single day—the day my dad took me to my first-ever hockey game.

When I was ten, Dad finally splurged on season tickets for the Connecticut Comets, our hometown team. That meant he had two seats at every home game they played in Hartford.

Most of the time, he would take old buddies from high school or coworkers, but one night, he didn’t have anyone to fill that second seat and Mom suggested he take me along.

I grew up as the only child of a sports-obsessed man, knowing that there was a small piece of him that wished I’d been born a boy. I was sure he’d had big dreams of sharing moments at games with a son instead of a girly girl who loved pretending to be a fashionista.

But he took me to that game anyway, and it sealed my fate.

Dad went all out, buying me a Comets jersey and every snack imaginable once we entered the arena. When we got to our seats, he urged me to take the steps down to the glass, where other kids were huddled holding signs up as the players took the ice for what he explained was their warm-up.

With my nose pressed against the glass, I stared in awe at the giant men gliding across the slick surface like it was no big deal, like it was as easy as walking. I was mesmerized. It was beautiful, like poetry in motion.

Then, one of the players approached the congregated kids and they all began screaming, begging for a puck, a stick, or a selfie. Honestly, they wanted anything that the player was willing to give.

I will never forget how his whiskey-colored eyes locked on mine. He pointed at me with a gloved hand before flipping a puck over the glass and into my hands. Shocked that he’d singled me out—a girl, no less—I stared down at the black rubber disc before peeking back at him. Long black hair fell across his forehead without a helmet on, and a crooked smile curved on his lips before he winked at me and skated off.

That player turned out to be a twenty-year-old Jaxon Slate, the very young, fresh-faced captain of the Comets, who was expected to be the franchise’s salvation after a decade of losing records. And instantly, he became my first-ever crush.

From that day forward, dark-haired hockey boys were it for me.

I begged my dad to take me to more games, wanting to learn everything about the sport. Dad soaked it in, glad to have a partner to share his obsession with.

Jaxon might have been my first player crush—and the one I held onto the longest, pining for him from the ages of ten to sixteen—but he wasn’t the last. Grudgingly, I had to admit to myself that Jaxon was too old for me, and as soon as my boobs came in, I began trolling the local rinks during high school hockey games.

I wasn’t the only amateur puck bunny in attendance, but I had a leg up on most of my competition. Not only did I know the sport inside and out and could talk hockey with the boys, but I had a secret weapon—red hair. I stood out in the crowd, catching the eye of players from where I stood along the glass during games. Nothing beat hearing the rumbles between them, wondering who the cute redhead was.

High school brought me a few hockey boyfriends, but nothing serious. Then came college, where I decided to stay local and attend Connecticut Central. They didn’t have the best hockey team in the area, so I often hopped over to Hartford State, where they had a kickass team, and I dated a few guys who played there.

Still attending Comets games with Dad as often as I could, I caught the eye of Nix during warm-ups one day. I knew I was too old for it, but I still found myself pressed against the glass with the kids. It was habit by that point.

Nix saw me standing there—my red hair acting like a beacon as it always did—and skated toward the glass. With a grin, he breathed on the clear surface, creating a foggy patch before removing a glove and writing his phone number through it with a finger. Stunned, I stared as he winked, giving me a call me gesture, and skated off.

That was the start of it all.

I thought I’d done it, snagged a professional player, and I was only twenty then.

By that point, my first crush, Jaxon, had settled down and was happily married with kids, and I watched on with a new longing. He and his beautiful wife, Natalie, along with their children, became the first family of hockey, practically American hockey royalty. I coveted their life, their love.

In an ultimate twist of irony, I found myself closer to that family than I could have ever imagined. My best friend and college roommate, Dakota, was currently the live-in girlfriend of Braxton Slate, Jaxon’s younger brother. As luck would have it, Braxton was the spitting image of his older brother, so my bestie was dating a version of the man I’d crushed on for most of my adolescent years.

The best part? She hated athletes.

I loved Dakota with my whole heart; she was the sister I never had—we were that for each other, both of us being only children. But I couldn’t help but lament the role reversal we’d found ourselves in. She was dating the up-and-coming hockey star, and I was the one swearing off athletes.

That’s right. I was done with hockey boys.

Well, at least when it came to dating them. I couldn’t give them up altogether, as I’d spent the summer landing the job that had me moving to Indy.

With a degree in journalism, specializing in sports media, I was the newest member of the traveling press pack for the Indianapolis Speed hockey team, reporting for the Indy Sports Review. It was hard enough for women to make a name in sports journalism—a primarily male-dominated field—so I couldn’t afford to ruin my credibility by sleeping with a player, even if I wasn’t nursing a broken heart from the last one.

Indy might seem like an odd choice of location, considering I grew up mere hours away from the media capital of the world, New York City, but I was just starting out in my career. Until I was more established, I couldn’t afford to be picky about job offers. A spot in the permanent press pack was a big deal, especially for a woman, so I’d have been a fool to turn it down, regardless of the city.

It also didn’t hurt that Dakota had moved out there a year ago after Braxton was traded from the Comets to the Speed. There would be a friendly face at home and on the road as I gained my bearings. It made my decision to accept the job a no-brainer.

I was determined to get a fresh start and focus on myself for once.

As I pulled up to the two-bedroom ranch I’d chosen to rent after doing a video tour with a realtor, a smile tugged at my lips when I saw Dakota and Braxton waiting on the front porch.

Dakota spotted my car first, jumping up and running to the curb as I parked. I didn’t even have a chance to grip the door handle before she flung it open from the outside.

“I can’t believe you live here now!” She pulled me into a hug so tight it threatened to crack a rib.

When she let me go, I took a deep breath before teasing, “Well . . . A little birdie told me some famous author lives in these parts, and I’m hoping I can run into her at the local coffee shop. Maybe teach her a few things about her next hockey romance. Accuracy is paramount, you know.”

Dakota laughed. That author was her.

While I’d ventured into journalism, she had chosen the path of fiction. And not just any fiction—steamy, sexy books that always ended with a couple who were head-over-heels in love. My bestie knew how to write word porn, and I was so damn proud of her. It didn’t hurt that I was the one who suggested she venture into sports romance—hockey in particular—and that the book she wrote as a result became her first bestseller. It was also what led her to Braxton. Me dragging her to a hockey house party for “research” was how she met him. He happened to be Nix’s roommate at the time.

Joking right back, Dakota mused, “Hmm, maybe my next one will be about the reporter falling for someone on the team.”

I groaned. “Not going to happen.”

“I feel like I’ve heard something along those lines before.” She tapped her chin, pretending to think. “I’ll never fall for an athlete. They’re the scum of the earth . . .” That was a subtle reference to her prior opinions on dating a player.

Heaving out a sigh, I grumbled, “Maybe you were onto something.”

Dakota lifted a shoulder. “I think we both know how wrong I was. Hannah might have been onto something when she said Nix was your starter player. They’re not all bad. Took me far too long to realize it.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “You’re right. They’re not all bad. But most times, they’re not looking for a commitment, and it’s not worth messing up my position adjacent to the team.”

She held her hands up in surrender. “Okay. You win. Bristol is swapping out her bunny ears for pencil skirts and unbiased reporting. Got it.”

If there was anyone who could pull me out of this post-breakup funk, it was Dakota. The past year spent without her had been rough, and maybe that was why I pressed for more than Nix was ever willing to give. Because I was lonely. Before she moved to Indy, I had a companion on nights Nix was busy—or with another woman. Then suddenly, it was just me in our rental house, and too much time alone with my thoughts turned out to be dangerous.

Braxton rounded my trunk, and I stepped into his arms for a hug. He smiled down at me when we separated. “Welcome to the Speed, Miss Cooper.”

Rolling my eyes, I batted at his shoulder. “Oh, God. Don’t call me that. Makes me feel like I’m thirty-five instead of twenty-three. And you can tell the rest of your teammates I expect to be on a first-name basis.”

He gave me a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I scoffed playfully.

Braxton was arguably the sweetest guy I’d ever met, and he treated my best friend the way she deserved. Dakota was right when she said not all players were bad. She’d managed to snag one of the good ones. They were coming up on two years together, and even though he hadn’t gotten down on one knee yet, it was coming—and soon. In fact, I’d helped him pick out the ring. It wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone, least of all Dakota, considering he’d told her of his plans for their future on their first official date. They were perfect for each other.

“So . . .” Braxton eyed the packed backseat of my car. “When do the movers get here?”

Checking my phone, I saw the text from the truck following not far behind me from Hartford. “About thirty minutes, give or take.”

“Plenty of time to round up the troops. You could have a whole bunch of muscular hockey players here to help unload your most prized possessions. Just say the word.”

“Nah.” I shook my head. “It’s too soon.”

Sympathy shone in his whiskey eyes, and our conversation’s playful nature faded. “He’s an idiot.”

Ducking my head, I whispered, “Yeah.”

“Want me to break his legs the next time he comes to town?” Braxton offered.

“Tempting, but no. That’s okay. I just want to move on. Is that too much to ask?”

“Of course not,” Dakota jumped in before Braxton could say anything more. “Let’s get you all settled in, and then we’re going out before your big first day tomorrow.”

“I don’t know . . .” I started to turn her down, but she shook her head sharply.

“Nope. You’re in my town now, and it’s time to make new memories.”

“I have a lot of unpacking to do,” I countered.

Dakota propped both hands on her hips. “Unpacking can wait. Maybe I can repay the favor from when you forced me out of the house on a night when I protested.” She stared lovingly up at Braxton.

Yeah, I could admit their relationship wouldn’t exist without a gentle—albeit not subtle—nudge from me. Not only had I dragged her to that house party, but I’d made sure Braxton knew how to find her when she bolted after learning that he played professional hockey. And then I may or may not have gently coaxed her into needing a personal hockey tutor for her book. I might be the puppet master, but they were the ones putting in the hard work, day in and day out. I simply got the ball rolling and they took it from there.

“Fine.” I blew out a breath. Pointing at Braxton, I added, “But no hockey players invited, understood?”

Braxton nodded, crossing his heart with a finger. “Absolutely no players. I promise.”

There was a twinkle in his eyes that I couldn’t place, but I knew he was up to no good.

Going out tonight would probably be a disaster, but I couldn’t deny being with my friends again felt good.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 3

Bristol

“This is where the Speed hangs out post-game?” I slowly scanned the karaoke bar, Pipes, finding that hard to believe.

It was kitschy, with a neon sign hanging on the wall behind a wooden stage that spelled out the bar’s name in all caps, with a microphone instead of an “I” in Pipes. There were buckets of shelled peanuts on every table; the broken pieces of discarded shells lay littered across the floor. I suppose we were close enough to Nashville that this kind of thing appealed to people in the area, but hockey players?

Granted, I was used to the makeshift bar and dance floor in the basement of Nix’s house parties, but that was because he was a younger player. While on his entry-level contract, he didn’t have the cash to drop at the Comets’ post-game hangout of choice, Spades, an upscale downtown Hartford nightclub.

That right there should be enough to prove that even though I was a puck bunny, I wasn’t a gold digger. It was never about the money for me. It was always more about the game and the lifestyle of players and their families. There was a camaraderie that came with being the significant other of a hockey player. They became one big family.

Not that you were a part of that during your three years with Nix because he refused to name you as his official girlfriend.

No. I shook my head. He didn’t belong here.

Dakota tugged my arm to a table near the stage. “I know, it’s kinda cheesy, but the guys here like to keep it lowkey. Plus, get them drunk and on that stage? They would go viral on social media like that.” She snapped her fingers. “But thankfully, the regulars know enough to put their phones away. Everyone just has a good time hanging out and cutting loose.”

Sitting across from her at a table while Braxton went to the bar to grab our first round of drinks, I plucked a peanut from the bucket. “Sounds like you really like it here.”

She reached over to clasp my hand. “I do. But it’ll be so much better now that you’re here too.”

Fuck. I was not going to cry tonight. I’d done enough of that already.

Stupid Nix.

This was my fresh start, and I was determined to be upbeat about it.

A new city and a new Bristol.

Braxton lowered three drinks onto the table—a bottle of beer for himself, a margarita for Dakota, and a whiskey neat for me. Bringing the lowball glass to my lips, I threw the drink straight down my throat without blinking or coughing, before raising my hand and signaling to a passing waitress that I needed another.

Yeah, this girl’s daddy had taught her how to shoot whiskey; it was more than needed tonight.

Music blared over strategically placed speakers, accompanied by the vocal stylings of the intoxicated man on stage. His buddies were cheering him on from a table near the back, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the spectacle.

Okay, maybe I could see how this would be a fun way for the players to unwind after a game.

“You know who would love this place?” Dakota said before answering her own question. “Hannah.”

Hannah Berg—formerly Moreau—was the daughter of Ace Moreau, the Connecticut Comets’ head coach and former three-time league champion. She was also married to Cal Berg, star defenseman for the Comets before his retirement. Now, he did on-air analysis for their in-house network. I guess that made him my colleague. Maybe? I wasn’t sure how it worked between broadcast journalism and print.

For over a decade, Hannah had been the anthem singer for the Comets. That girl could sing. To further that point, she recently began recording music in the offseason—since she also worked for the team as their travel coordinator, accompanying them on the road—and was getting interest from high-level execs in the industry. She not only had the voice; she had the look of a pop star, and was arguably the most stunning woman I’d had the pleasure of meeting in real life. I knew she would be a smashing success if she actively pursued a career in music.

“We should bring them here when they come to town next. You two could do a duet!”

Dakota’s suggestion had me violently shaking my head. “Nope. Never gonna happen. She’s so good that I’m too self-conscious to sing in the shower anymore. No way am I performing with her in the room.”

Smirking, she teased, “You say that now, but I know you. After enough whiskeys, you’ll be dancing on top of tables, not caring what anyone thinks.”

Braxton chimed in, “Dancing on tables would be tame compared to some of the drunken acts we’ve seen Bristol perform.”

My eyes bulged, and I protested, “Hey!”

He held his hands up. “It’s true.”

Frowning, I grumbled, “Yeah, well, there’s a new Bristol in town. A responsible, career Bristol.” Unfortunately, that was the moment the waitress returned with my second whiskey of the night in less than half an hour. Dakota and Braxton tried and failed to hold back their laughter, and I rolled my eyes, lifting the glass and allowing the amber liquor to scorch a path down my throat. “Okay, starting tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, the first day of training camp for the Speed, was designated as media day. It would be my first time gaining access to the players and staff, and I could admit I was nervous. This job was a big deal, and I wanted to show that I was more than a token female on a sports staff.

My best friend’s blue eyes twinkled at my mention of what was coming the following day. “Aw, it’s like I’m sending my kids off to their first day of school.” She reached up and pinched Braxton’s cheek as if he were a child. “I’m gonna miss you guys when you head out on the road.”

Braxton wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to his side and kissing the top of her head. Seriously, those two were disgustingly sweet together. “Don’t lie, Firefly. You’ll be writing up a storm and won’t even notice we’re gone.”

A grin curved on her lips, and she raised a single hand. “Guilty. Maybe I can have Hannah put a bug in the commissioner’s ear about extending road trips so that Eastern Conference teams play the entire West Coast in one trip and vice versa. Cut down on the CO2 emissions with all the back and forth. She has him on speed dial, right?”

“Do you hear this girl?” Braxton said to me in disbelief. “Talking about the league commissioner? My, how far she’s come.”

“You’d never believe that, two years ago, she didn’t even know what a slap shot was,” I agreed.

Dakota’s previous aversion to all things sports had been personal. Not only was she watching Nix use me, but her dad was a football player who had cheated on her mom before leaving them broke. She assumed all athletes were womanizing assholes and wanted nothing to do with them or the games they played.

But the rise of hockey romance changed all that.

I’d practically begged her to dip her toes into one of the fastest-growing subgenres in her field, and she agreed, unable to deny how high the demand was. There was only one problem: by shutting out sports for most of her life, she knew nothing about them.

Now, you’d never know that she hadn’t grown up like I had, attending as many games as possible.

Dakota nudged Braxton with an elbow while shooting me a playful wink. “Well, I can’t be hanging in the family box with the other WAGs and not know what’s going on.” WAGs was an acronym for the wives and girlfriends of players.

“Eh.” I held my hand parallel to the table, wavering it a bit. “Plenty of significant others don’t know about the game.”

“Usually, only the new ones,” she countered. “And they’re eager to learn.”

Eyeing her carefully, I asked, “The Speed ladies treating you right?”

Dakota had kept her circle small over the years. Before Braxton stepped into her life, I was her only friend—she was a verified bookworm. I knew how catty women could be, so wanted to ensure she wasn’t being bullied.

She sighed, but the smile didn’t slip from her face. “They don’t hold a candle to the Comets ladies, but I have no complaints.”

The Comets WAGs not only consisted of Hannah Berg but also Natalie Slate, Jaxon’s wife and Dakota’s future sister-in-law. They’d pulled in Benji Mason’s—formerly Mills—partner and formed a tight-knit little girl gang that also included Natalie’s ex-in-laws, who happened to be foreign royals.

That girl gang was an exclusive club. Their girls’ nights were the stuff of legends. I had always hoped that one day I might be granted entry, but alas, Dakota had found herself on the inside in my stead.

It didn’t matter anymore. That dream was dead.

A flash of motion caught my eye, and I noticed Braxton slipping his phone out of his pocket for no less than the fifth time since we sat down.

“Got a hot date later?” I teased, startling him enough to look up.

“No.” He shook his head, trying to look innocent. “Just checking emails.”

I knew he was full of shit and called him on it. “You must be the ultimate speed reader, then. A quick glance, and you can scan an entire email before shoving the phone back inside your pocket?”

He glanced at Dakota for help, but she shrugged, saying, “You’re on your own.”

I leveled him with a glare. “I said no players tonight, Braxton.”

“I didn’t invite any players!” he protested.

“Then who are you expecting to get a message from?” I challenged.

“No one.”

“Sure.” I nodded my head slowly. “And the Pope’s not Catholic.”

“I swear, Bristol. No players have been invited tonight.”

Braxton was a good guy; I knew he was only trying to help. I was sure he thought he had the perfect guy for me, someone who would make Nix fade into a distant memory.

But I’d come here to do a job and not the kind that required a girl to get down on her knees.

I needed another whiskey.

I was at the optimal level of buzzed to dare to approach the stage when Braxton and Dakota decided to call it a night. They were my ride, but I brushed off their concerns about leaving me there by promising I would order a car from a rideshare app.

Dakota gave me a doubtful expression when I assured her I would be fine alone. I was well aware that I didn’t have the best record when intoxicated. In college, she’d insisted on affixing a tracking tag to my clothing when I went out to party. I had a bad habit of calling her the following day, not knowing where I was.

Hugging her, I shooed the happy couple to the door. Drinking made me horny, and I didn’t need my bestie and her boyfriend cockblocking me tonight.

Racking my brain, I knew there was some saying about getting over a man by getting under a new one. Seemed like solid logic. A good fuck could make you forget your own name.

Not that I‘d come out tonight looking to get laid, but I might be persuaded if the opportunity arose.

However, the odds of a man approaching me significantly decreased the second I stepped up to the microphone.

Even a little tipsy, I knew I was tone-deaf. I couldn’t carry a tune to save my life, which was why I had been so adamant that Hannah would never witness me singing.

Typing my selection into the wall-mounted touchscreen, I took a cleansing breath, allowing my body to sway as the first notes of the song filtered from the speakers. This first one was a giant middle finger to Nix, a little country number about beating the shit out of a cheater’s car. I let all the rage out while I belted out the words to a thinning crowd inside the bar. I didn’t need an audience. Hell, it was probably better that I didn’t have one. This was for me. It was cathartic, releasing the past.

When no one stepped up after I finished that first song, I chose another. And another. Until it was nearing closing time, and I knew I’d have to call for a ride home soon.

That was when I saw him through my slightly blurred vision.

A man had taken a seat front and center at the closest table to the stage, which also happened to be where I’d left my latest glass of whiskey, sipping on it between sets.

I giggled inside my head.

Listen to me talking about sets. Like I’m some headliner instead of tipsy Bristol sounding like a bag of dying cats.

The intensity of his green stare had me stumbling back a step as I continued to sing the words to a song I had memorized, eliminating the need for the prompter screen.

His attention was locked on me, eyes roving my body with a hungry gaze as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. When my eyes dipped to track the move, I noticed he was mouthing the words to the song I was singing.

The liquor in my bloodstream already had my cheeks flushed, but the way he looked at me made heat pool between my thighs, and I shimmied my hips a little more, seeking the fiction of the seam of my tight jeans.

There was no question he was interested, and through heavy-lidded eyes, I couldn’t deny he was attractive. A little older, perhaps, but not middle-aged. I could barely make out the tiniest lines around the corners of his eyes in the dim lighting. His messy dark brown hair hung over his forehead, drawing more focus to those deep green eyes. And his short beard had me itching to feel it beneath my palms—or rather, between my legs.

It was apparent he took care of his body—muscles bunched beneath his gray T-shirt as he leaned forward, placing both forearms on his thighs, listening intently to my subpar performance. And those thighs? Damn, they were thick. I could practically feel their strength aiding his thrusts as he pounded into me from behind, from above—hell, I didn’t care about the position so long as he dominated me. It sure looked like he was up to the task.

As the song ended, I decided instantly that it would be my last of the evening.

Mr. Green Eyes might just be the palate cleanser I so desperately needed. It was long past time to remove the bad taste Nix had left in my mouth.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 4

Maddox

I’d initially declined when Braxton texted that he and Dakota were going to Pipes later that night. But my interest was piqued when he said a friend of Dakota’s would be joining them. Then, I wondered what they’d told the friend about me and if they were setting me up on a blind date.

It was no secret among the Speed players that dating had been difficult for me since the injury. Far too many women in Indy knew who I was, and even though I was still an essential member of the Speed, I was staff now, not a player. The appeal of a coach was not the same. Those were just facts.

I spent the better part of the evening wavering—deciding to join them and grabbing my keys before changing my mind and convincing myself it was a bad idea. Tomorrow was media day, and I had to be on my A-game as the new head coach. If I weren’t, the press would eat me alive.

Not many head coaches came straight off the ice and into a position behind the bench. Most worked their way up the ranks—minor leagues, sometimes juniors—before assisting on a professional coaching staff. It took years of paying your dues. But in my case, the job had been simply handed to me with zero experience. Perhaps out of obligation to my years served with the Speed—I would never know. All that mattered now was that I proved the doubters wrong, showing that I could lead this team. And not just lead them but guide them toward success. Something that had been hard to come by since the championship loss.

As I sat on my couch, the keys left discarded on the entryway table taunted me. I wondered about the girl waiting at the bar for my arrival. Was she interested in meeting me? Did she know about my past? Or was she unaware that our mutual friends were trying to set us up?

There was only one way to find out.

Fuck it.

Rising to my feet, I snatched the keys and slid behind the wheel of my two-door sports car, which had been a gift to myself when I’d signed my latest contract, not knowing that it would be my final one as a player. It was flashy, cherry red, and screamed I have a small dick and am trying to compensate, but it was my baby, and I wasn’t going to stop driving her because of what anyone else thought.

Pipes, the karaoke bar near Speed Arena, was where I’d picked up most of my hookups in Indy, so it seemed fitting for tonight. Except, if this girl was a friend of Dakota’s, I couldn’t just sleep with her one time and then pretend it never happened. And I wasn’t sure I had it in me to offer her more. I was still trying to wrap my head around my career coming to a screeching halt and needed to focus on my new position.

Shit. Maybe this was a terrible idea. I didn’t need to get laid that badly.

Sack up, man. She might not even want to sleep with you. You’re damaged goods, remember?

Parking outside the bar, I rested my head on the steering wheel.

Deep breath in . . . Deep breath out . . .

Confident I could handle whatever awaited inside, I pulled the door handle and stepped out of the car. Pushing through the entrance, I noticed the place was nearly empty. It was Sunday night, after all. Most people had to work in the morning.

As I scanned the few occupied tables, it became clear that Braxton and Dakota hadn’t waited around while I’d wasted half the night deciding if I was going to join them. Considering I hadn’t texted to say I was on my way, I wasn’t surprised they’d left.

It was probably better this way. I could grab a drink in peace and then get a good night’s rest before the big day ahead.

Stepping up to the bar, I flagged down Larry, who owned the place. Recognition lit up his face, and he immediately grabbed a glass, filling it with my favorite beer from the tap.

A napkin was placed on the bar top as he offered me the drink. “Glad to see you’re not too good to hang out here with your recent change in status.”

I gave him a polite smile. I was still dealing with the circumstances that led to becoming the Speed’s newest head coach and didn’t want anyone to think I was ungrateful for being allowed to keep my hand in the game.

“Still getting used to it,” I replied.

Tapping the bar twice, he said, “This one’s on the house.”

I ducked my head in gratitude. “Thanks, Larry.”

He opened his mouth to say something back, but it was drowned out by too loud music, indicating someone was stepping onto the stage to sing. I didn’t pay much attention to it—that’s what this place was about; someone was always singing—sipping my beer until I heard the voice through the microphone.

Larry’s brows rose at the sharp off-key singing, and I winced before turning in my seat to discover which patron had accrued enough liquid courage to throw caution to the wind and offer themselves up for public scrutiny.

The sight before me stole the breath from my lungs.

A beautiful redhead was singing her heart out passionately on stage. The song was about bashing a dude’s car—keying his seats, smashing the headlights—because he had cheated on her. From the way she leaned into it, reciting the lyrics from memory without glancing at the prompter screen, I could tell she felt that pain deep in her bones.

What kind of a fucking loser would cheat on a girl like her?

Long, copper hair curled into loose waves moved freely as she turned her head, practically making love to the microphone. Clad in a black tank top and skintight jeans, her perfect curves were on full display. Those hips swaying in time with the music had me mesmerized. My fingers flexed, imagining what it would feel like to dig into that soft flesh, and my cock swelled to life behind my fly.

Okay, it’s definitely been too long since I’ve had my hands on a woman.

She was young, probably too young for a guy in his mid-thirties—but that didn’t stop me from wanting her. Larry was good about carding, so she had to be at least twenty-one.

Jesus. Twenty-one? I’m an old man compared to someone that age.

I was getting ahead of myself. Even if she wasn’t already taken—unlikely if she was drowning her sorrows publicly in a karaoke bar—and I worked up the courage to hit on her, there was no guarantee she would be interested.

But I wouldn’t be Maddox fucking Sterling if I didn’t shoot my shot, even when the odds of scoring were minimal.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there watching her sing. She was terrible, I mean truly awful, but she either didn’t know or didn’t care. Regardless, I found myself drawn to her.

At some point, she’d ordered a drink and had it delivered to the table set right before the stage. Occasionally, she would step down between songs and take a sip. Her words were still clear, not slurred, so I wasn’t worried about her being too intoxicated to give consent. I’d skipped past the if I was taking her home to the when.

Shoving off the barstool, I ventured closer, boldly dropping my large frame into a seat at the table where her drink sat. That’s when her baby blues honed in on me, and I knew I was a goner. She began singing directly to me instead of the rest of the stragglers as last call neared, her voice permeating to the furthest reaches of my soul.

If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn I was in the middle of one of Dakota’s books, falling for a girl I didn’t know.

Whatever it was, it felt like my entire world had shifted, and she became the center of it all.

Leaning my forearms on my thighs, I gave her my full attention, mouthing the words she sang, my lips barely moving. When her eyes tracked the movement and her hips gave an extra little shimmy, her voice becoming breathless, I knew I had her.

The song ended, and she returned the microphone to its appointed stand. Gingerly, she descended the few steps from the stage to the bar floor, boldly walking to where I sat. She placed one hand flat on the table and reached across my body with the other to grab her drink. The move put her breasts right in my face.

Yeah, she wanted this as much as I did.

The neckline of her tank top pulled away from her pale skin enough to give me a peek at the black lace hiding underneath. My cock throbbed painfully, desperate for relief after an involuntary bout of celibacy.

Repeat after me: I will not fuck this girl in the bathroom.

She’s not a bunny. She deserves better. Make this one count because you don’t know when your next chance will be.

Pulling her tits out of my face, she pushed off the table to stand before me. Smirking behind her lowball glass of amber liquid, she took a sip. “You’re sitting at my table.”

There was a teasing tone to her voice, so I leaned into it, happy to play the flirting game.

Spreading my legs, I reclined in my seat. I didn’t miss the way her eyes dipped to my crotch, eyeing the bulge I purposely put on display.

“My apologies. I was simply trying to enjoy the show.”

My mystery redhead let out an unladylike snort, her nose wrinkling adorably. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Seriously, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” I vowed. That was the truth, not a line, no matter what she believed.

A corner of her kissable lips turned up, and she lifted a shoulder. “Well, you know what they say. It’s hard to look away from a train wreck.”

I chuckled. She wasn’t just beautiful; she had a sense of humor. I needed more laughter in my life, especially after this past year.

“Is that a reference to the singing or the douchebag who cheated on you?”

One of her eyebrows arched, and she shook her head playfully, snapping her fingers. “And you were so close.”

I want to be closer.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I nodded to her nearly empty glass.

She tossed back the remainder without so much as wincing, and my dick grew impossibly harder watching her throat muscles work on the swallow.

Shaking the glass, she mused, “Well, it does seem like I’m out. So, why not?”

I raised a hand, signaling a passing waitress. “What’ll it be, love?”

Her light blue eyes flared, and the pulse point at the base of her throat fluttered.

Yeah, I might be rusty, but I remembered how the game was played. Women lost their shit when I called them “love.” God bless a trip across the pond in college where I picked up that little gem. It was like catnip for American girls—Canadian ones, too.

“Whiskey,” she breathed out.

There was no denying she was hot and bothered. All I had to do was seal the deal.

I held up two fingers to the waitress, indicating we would both take a whiskey.

Standing, I reached up to run a hand through my hair. It was a strategic move and worked like a charm when her eyes fixed on the bicep bunching where my sleeve had ridden up. Those plump lips parted on an exhale, and I could picture sliding my cock between them. Would she be able to handle it rough and dirty? Or would she be meek and inexperienced?

There was only one way to find out.

Lowering my arm, I extended my hand. “I’m—”

A finger was pressed to my lips, effectively silencing me.

She shook her head. “No. No names.”

My brows rose. This was far better than any blind date Braxton might’ve tried to set me up on tonight. This girl was down to fuck and just made it crystal clear that it would be only once, no strings. Perfect.

Nodding in confirmation, I gripped her wrist, trapping her hand against my mouth and sucking the digit inside, swirling my tongue over it. Her head dropped back on a moan, the sound shooting a bolt of lust through my body.

Sliding her finger past my lips, I kissed the inside of her wrist before motioning to the chairs around the table. “Join me?”

With a dazed expression, she ducked her head, taking a seat. Dropping back into the seat I’d previously vacated, I turned so our bodies faced each other, our knees touching. The electric current running between us was strong, and I craved more of it.

Her hand traced circles on the edge of an empty glass resting on the table, her eyes locked on the movement. She might have been bold before, but I could tell she was nervous. I couldn’t imagine someone as young as her had as much experience in one-night stands as I did.

“You go to college around here?” I asked, needing something to break the ice and curious to see if she would drop any clues to her age.

She reared back in surprise, blue eyes widening. “You think I’m in college?” Then those turquoise gems narrowed on me. “I’m old enough to drink if that’s what you’re asking.”

I fought the urge to cringe at my misstep. “Sorry. I suck at small talk, and without a name to go with the pretty face . . .” She blushed, and I mentally applauded myself for covering my ass and getting back on track. “I was just hoping to learn something about you. Other than that you love to sing.” I threw her a wink.

She might not be able to carry a tune, but her resulting laughter sure was musical. My pulse quickened at the sound.

“Okay. Good recovery.” She smirked.

“So,” I hedged. “Not in college.” She nodded in confirmation. “What do you do for work?”

Lips twisting in thought, she mulled over how to respond. It was apparent she was trying to keep our “relationship” vague. I wouldn’t fight her on it. I wasn’t looking for anything serious either but could use a release before my big day tomorrow.

“Let’s just say I’m in communications.” That could mean anything from public relations to social media to marketing to broadcasting. And fuck me, if she happened to be in front of a camera, I would be renewing my cable subscription to watch.

“Sounds like a fun enough job.” I gave her a smile, not pressing further.

“I get to do what I love while making a living. Can’t complain,” she remarked. “What about you?”

Oh boy. Since the injury, she was the first woman I’d encountered in Indy who didn’t look at me like a washed-up has-been. How did I vaguely convey that I was the head coach/former player of the city’s professional hockey team?

Aha! I got it!

“I’m in management,” I blurted out a little too enthusiastically for the mood of the conversation.

“Hmm.” She hummed. “So, you boss people around all day long?”

She wasn’t far off from the truth. “Something like that.”

Leaning closer, she whispered, “I like bossy.”

Gripping the back of her neck, I hauled her face a breath away from mine. “Is that so?” My voice took on a gravelly quality.

“Uh-huh.” Her breath fanned my face.

She was giving off all the right signals, but I was still a touch gun-shy. My next move could either prove right on the money or have her slapping me across the face. But I was too far gone to stop now.

Closing the barely-there gap between us, I crushed my lips to hers. Instantly, she opened, granting me access, and my tongue tangled with hers, swallowing her moans. She shifted, trying to get closer, and when her knee barely grazed my jean-clad cock, I hissed.

I already regretted not rubbing one out in the shower earlier. She was probably used to boys who blew their loads too quickly, and I wanted to be the one to teach her how a grown man fucked, pleasuring her for hours on end and making her scream. Maybe I could sneak off to the bathroom to handle business—it wouldn’t take long—but I couldn’t risk her leaving while I was gone.

Fuck, I was stuck between a rock and a hard-on that wouldn’t quit.

Her hands tangled in my hair, tugging my head to the side so she could change the angle of our kiss. The way she used her tongue with confidence, I could tell she wasn’t shy and wasn’t inexperienced, which would bode well for me later. I could make love; it just wasn’t my favorite. And I wanted nothing more than to dive right in with this girl and fuck her senseless. I wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d forgotten the name she refused to give me.

When we finally came up for air, both of us panting, I noticed the waitress had dropped off our round of whiskey.

Needing to cool off, I tipped the glass to my lips, letting the liquor burn a path down my throat. Placing the empty glass on the table, I took a deep breath, only to find my beautiful companion and hopeful future bed partner staring at me with her mouth open.

I quirked an eyebrow in silent question, and she finally gained her bearings, a sultry smile curving her lips.

“You know what they say about a man who can shoot his whiskey straight, don’t you?”

“No. Tell me,” I commanded, my voice gone gruff.

“That he’s not afraid to go down on a woman.” Her blue eyes flared, and I about damn near swallowed my tongue—a tongue I would have no qualms using between her thighs if given the opportunity.

“That’s an interesting theory,” I teased, reaching down and pulling her chair flush with mine. Her breathing hitched, and my chest rumbled before declaring, “Any man who’s afraid of burying his face in a pussy isn’t worth your time, sweetheart.”

Her swallow was audible. I was so close to ending this little game and taking her home. I just needed to hear her verbal confirmation that she wanted it too.

Taking her own whiskey, she shot it straight back, the same as I’d done mine. An errant drop of the amber liquid slid down from the corner of her mouth, and her tongue darted out to catch it. I groaned, and she smirked back at me.

Dipping my head beside her ear, I said, “Tell me, love, are you a moaner or a curser?”

“What?” Her reply was dazed and breathless.

“When you’re about to come, do you start moaning or cursing?”

A shaky breath flew past her lips, and she dropped a hand to my thigh, giving a gentle squeeze. “How about you find out for yourself?”

There it was. The green light I’d been praying for since I laid eyes on her.

“Your place or mine?” I gritted out the words, practically tasting her pussy on my tongue already.

“Mine. In case you’re a serial killer. Don’t want to give you the advantage of your kill room. Gotta provide a challenge.” Even lost to lust, her spunky personality shone through.

“Solid decision. You have a car here?” No way in hell was I letting her drive, even if we were going to her place.

“No. I was planning on ordering a car home.”

That was actually ideal. I could ride home with her and then return to collect my car in the morning. If she saw my flashy sports car, she might figure out I was more than just some white-collar dude working in middle management. I couldn’t afford to fuck this up.

“Great. Me too.”

Putting space between us, she reached into her back pocket and produced a phone. “I’ll order it.” She was protecting herself, and I could respect that. I didn’t bother pointing out that as soon as we got to her place, I could pull up the map app on my own phone and know exactly where she lived.

Tapping her fingers on the smooth screen, she busied herself in whatever rideshare app she preferred while I signaled for the check. The waitress brought both mine and my date’s—if you could call her that—from whatever she’d consumed before I joined her, and I handed over my black card, telling her I would cover it all.

By the time I had my receipt in hand, my feisty redhead was ready to go, declaring the car was right outside. Now, I could only pray it was dark enough that whatever driver working at this ungodly hour wouldn’t recognize me.

We pushed through the bar’s entrance and into the muggy September evening. The temperature had dropped from earlier, but the humidity remained. A white sedan was parked out front, but the girl tucked into my side motioned for me to wait as she confirmed quietly with the driver that it was indeed her ride.

Damn, she really doesn’t want me to know her name.

Crooking a finger, she beckoned me to the car. Opening the door to the backseat, I allowed her to climb in first, sliding in behind and sealing us inside. The car rolled away from Pipes, and not caring that we had an audience, I made out with her in the back like a horny teenager until we came to a stop outside a cute little ranch-style home somewhere in the suburbs.

Not sparing our driver more than a muttered “Thanks,” I helped her out of the vehicle before hoisting her into my arms. My bad knee alone might not be able to hold my full weight, but with both legs working together, it was no issue to carry her slight frame.

Crossing the distance to the house, I pressed her against the front door. Our lips were locked, and with her legs thrown around my waist, I ground my erection into her open core. She gasped, clawing at my shoulders, trying to get closer as her heels dug into my lower back.

Tearing her mouth away, she uttered a single word. “Keys.”

Shifting her in my arms, I allowed her to reach into her front pocket and produce the brass key. I snatched it from her fingers, unlocking the door. Clearing the threshold, I kicked it closed behind us before rasping out, “Bedroom.”

Understanding dawned, and she pointed down a single hallway past the kitchen. My enormous strides ate up the space quickly, but even with the hot little redhead in my arms, I noticed boxes littering the space.

“You just move in?” I questioned.

Grabbing two fistfuls of my hair as we stepped into her bedroom, she maneuvered my head so I was staring directly into her beautiful blue eyes. “You wanna talk, or you wanna fuck?”

Well, when she put it like that . . .

“Fuck. Definitely fuck,” I replied.

“Good answer.”

Reaching the edge of the bed, I threw her onto it, delighting in the squeal she let out when she bounced.

If she wanted to fuck, then I was more than ready.

Gripping the hem of my T-shirt, I pulled it over my head. Her breathy moan when she caught sight of my chest and abs had me tensing them for maximum impact. This girl made me feel alive, like I wasn’t some broken toy no one wanted to play with anymore, cast off to the side.

She sat up on the bed and tugged her tank top from where it was tucked into her skintight jeans. Peeling it off, she revealed the perfect handfuls of her breasts, barely concealed in black lace, as her chest heaved.

It would seem we were in the midst of a little game of tit-for-tat, so I kicked off my shoes and slid the jeans down my thighs, discarding them once they reached my ankles. Her shaky hands undid the button at her fly, and she shifted her hips to ease the fabric down her toned legs, frowning when her jeans got caught up on the ankle boots she’d forgotten to remove.

A husky chuckle rose from my chest, and I stepped forward. “Allow me.”

Sliding the zippers down on each boot, I eased them off her feet before tugging her jeans the rest of the way off. Stepping back once more, I drank in the view. The black lace lingerie served as a sharp contrast to her pale skin, which was flushed pink from head to toe.

“You are stunning, love.”

She bit her lip and averted her gaze. Closing the gap between us, I gripped her chin, forcing her to see the truth in my eyes. Someone had hurt her, but I needed her to know the truth—whatever had caused him to stray was his issue; it had nothing to do with her. She was beautiful, desirable, and for tonight only, she was mine.

Using my thumb, I pulled her lower lip free of her teeth, stroking across the plump, soft flesh. Her blue eyes stared up at me, waiting for my next move. Sliding my hand to the back of her head, I slammed my mouth to hers. She might not believe my words, but I would show her just how much I wanted her with my actions.

A tremor rolled through her body when I pressed my thinly concealed erection against her thigh as I plundered her mouth, literally stealing her breath for myself. Nails pierced the skin of my back, but I relished the bite of pain. It had been so long since I’d felt anything; it was almost a welcome relief that I still could.

One small hand breached the barrier of the waistband of my boxer briefs. Dipping beneath the fabric, fingers dug into my ass, urging me on. Rocking my hips, I changed the angle so I was centered between her open thighs.

Her mouth tore away from mine as she gasped at the contact. Dipping my head, I teased the sensitive flesh of her neck with my lips before nibbling with my teeth, soothing any marks I left behind with my tongue. Beneath me, she writhed, lost to lust.

“I want to see you,” she panted.

I hummed against her neck, trailing a path over her collarbone before sucking a lace-covered nipple into my mouth. Her back arched off the bed, silently begging me for more.

“Please,” she begged.

Smiling against her skin, I murmured, “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Pushing off the bed, I stood beside it. Breathless, she rose on her elbows to watch as I removed my final piece of clothing.

I couldn’t help but smirk, picturing what her reaction would be. I knew I was well-endowed—which was why I didn’t give a shit about driving a flashy car—but it was always interesting to see if a woman would be enthusiastic or frightened when they realized they were expected to take the whole thing inside them. And trust me when I say it always fit and they were begging for more.

Hooking both thumbs into the waistband, I slid the boxer briefs down my thighs, bending at the waist as I did so. Straightening once the garment was kicked to the side, I had a front-row seat to her eyes tracking up my legs—my breath catching when she reached knee level and I remembered my scars—until she honed in on the eager appendage standing proud between my thighs.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, those blue eyes widening.

Since she was stroking my ego, I gripped my cock and gave a firm tug, groaning at the pleasure surging through my veins.

My bed partner licked her lips when I gave a second stroke, tracking the movement as I rubbed my thumb over the head, wiping away a bead of precum.

“You want a taste, love?”

Tearing her gaze away from my crotch, those blue eyes peered up at me, and she nodded.

Slowly, she slid off the bed, stepping toward where I stood. I removed my hand from my dick, indicating she could do what she wanted. Those perfectly straight, white teeth descended into that kiss-swollen lower lip, and she reached a tentative hand out, grazing my throbbing length. I gritted my teeth against the wave of pleasure crashing over me at that minor contact. It had been too long since I’d been touched by anyone other than myself.

Gaining confidence, she went from a barely-there brush against my skin to gripping my shaft firmly and squeezing. I was mesmerized, watching as she tried to get her fingers to touch around my girth. The feeling of my cock in her hand would forever be burned into my memory. It would be what I pictured on the many cold and lonely nights ahead as my players got laid on the road and I was forced to jerk off in my hotel room. As I stroked myself alone, I would imagine her soft touch instead of my rough one.

And as if she knew what I was thinking, she pumped that hand, moving from root to tip with the perfect pressure. A low groan rumbled in my chest. She gave a few more strong tugs before dropping to her knees and gazing up at me with a hungry gleam in her eyes.

She never broke eye contact as she licked up the underside of my shaft before swirling that pretty pink tongue over the head. Pulling the crown into her mouth, she gave a little suck that had my knees threatening to buckle.

My head dropped back. “Fuck yes,” I hissed, eyes sliding shut.

She hummed, taking me deeper. Her hot little mouth stopped halfway down my length, and I mentally applauded the valiant effort. My eyes flew open when her hands gripped mine, and she tangled them in her silky red hair.

My brain short-circuited. She wasn’t seriously asking me to fuck her face, was she? I mean, even a practiced porn star would struggle to take me deeper.

When she released her hold over my hands and I didn’t remove them, she slid hers around to my ass and gripped, forcing my cock an inch further down her throat. A slight gag sounded, but she didn’t pull back.

Jesus. She really wants this.

Vowing to myself that the only place I would allow myself to come was buried deep inside her pussy, I tangled my fingers into her copper locks to hold her steady and rocked my hips, gently at first. She moaned in response, the vibrations settling deep in my balls.

Fuck. I wouldn’t have long to enjoy this before I was forced to pull the ripcord. Even then, I’d need a few to cool down before I could even think about fucking her properly.

Nails dug into my ass, urging me on.

Little vixen.

Tightening my hold on her head, I thrust again, a little deeper and harder this time. Tear-filled eyes stared up at me as her lips were stretched to the max around my cock. A picture-perfect sight if I’ve ever seen one.

Trying to think of anything and everything to curb the white-hot pleasure provided by her mouth, I fucked her face until mascara ran down her cheeks and I couldn’t take it one second longer without exploding.

Chest heaving, I tugged her off. She placed both hands on her thighs and took several deep breaths as I stroked her soft cheeks, wiping away the tears.

When I felt she was recovered enough, I bent down to loop my arms beneath her armpits and hauled her to standing. Her cheek came to rest against my chest, and I held her close for a moment, enjoying the intimacy—something I’d never cared for before.

My fingers trailed over the globes of her ass, bared by her thong. Each cheek was a perfect handful, and as a tall man, I had large hands. Trailing my touch up her back, I twisted the clasp of her bra, trapping it between us. She pulled back, surprised, allowing the fabric to fall away. Pink-tipped nipples stood at attention, begging to be touched, sucked, and nibbled.

I was beginning to think one night wouldn’t be enough to do all the things I wanted to do to this girl.

Backing her toward the bed, I stopped when her knees met the mattress. Using my hands on her shoulders, I spun her around so she was facing away from me. I dropped to my knees behind her, skimming my hands down the curve of her waist until I reached her hips. My fingers slid beneath the waistband of the black lace, barely covering her from my view, easing it down inch by inch until her perfect pink pussy was revealed, glistening in the dim light.

I couldn’t help sliding a finger against the slick flesh. She dropped her hands on the bed, which only pushed her ass into my face. God, I wanted nothing more than to bury my tongue deep inside her, but I had other plans. I needed to play this exactly right to draw this out for myself.

I tapped the inside of her knee. “Up on all fours on the bed.” My voice was rough, lust gripping me in a chokehold.

She followed directions beautifully, climbing onto the bed. That heart-shaped ass taunted me as she rocked it from side to side, no doubt trying to ease the ache between her thighs.

Without thinking, my hand reared back and cracked across that perfectly rounded flesh, the sound echoing throughout the tiny room. My eyes widened, hearing her gasp, realizing what I’d done.

Great move, Maddox. A loss of self-control just cost you getting laid for the first time in months.

Her head whipped around, eyes round, mouth parted. I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a resigned breath. No doubt she was about to ask me to leave.

“Did you just spank me?” she asked, incredulous.

“Yeah,” I said, the self-loathing evident in my voice.

Blue eyes flared. “Do it again.”

I stared at her for a solid minute. She wasn’t kicking me out. She wanted me to spank her again.

Well, color me shocked.

But no way in hell was I denying that request.

My palm rubbed over the handprint on her right butt cheek, the heat transferring from her skin to mine. Raising my left arm, I brought my hand down over the opposite side, leaving a matching mark.

She dropped her head to the mattress. “More.”

Alternating sides, I brought my palms down over and over again as she moaned, arching her back and pushing her ass out, silently begging for another. Even if she hadn’t vocally admitted she enjoyed it, the proof was coating her inner thighs. She was dripping wet just from me spanking her.

Her ass was cherry red by the time I decided she’d had enough, and I hoped she didn’t work a desk job because I had no doubt it would be difficult for her to sit in the morning.

Even drenched as she was, when I slid a finger inside her from behind, her walls gripped the digit so tightly I groaned. She was going to choke the life out of my dick; there was no question about it. But if this was what killed me—fucking a much-too-young girl who wasn’t afraid to color outside the lines when it came to sex—then I would die a happy man.

“I need you,” she moaned, pushing her hips back to take my finger as deep as it would go.

“I know you do,” I murmured, removing my finger and tasting her for the first time, licking her essence from my skin.

Stepping away, I fished a condom out of my wallet. I eyed it, checking the expiration date just in case since it had been a while. The last thing I needed was to knock up my one-night stand when we hadn’t exchanged information.

Everything checked out, so I ripped the foil wrapper, rolling the latex over my length. Needy moans filled the room as I stepped up behind her. I slid my dick along her seam, gathering extra moisture to hopefully minimize any resistance to what promised to be a tight fit.

“You ready for me, love?” I ran a soothing hand over her hip.

“Yes, please. Just fuck me already.”

You didn’t have to ask me twice. Notching at her entrance, I teased only the tip of my cock inside. I couldn’t look away, watching her flesh part around me. Her moans spurred me on, so I sank in a little further. Barely halfway inside, I was ready to burst as she gripped me like a silken vise.

I took a steadying breath, steeling my resolve to get her off first, no matter what.

“Christ, you’re so fucking tight,” I muttered.

“Fill me up. I want to feel every inch stretching me,” she begged.

Bending over her back, I tugged on her hair until her eyes met mine. “Careful what you wish for,” I growled, rolling my hips and thrusting forward until I bottomed out.

Our groans mingled at the unbelievably deep connection.

“Oh my God,” she moaned, her voice deepened by lust.

I wanted so badly to tell her my name, to hear it rolling off her tongue as I brought her body to climax, but I’d already played with fire once tonight by spanking her. Her one request was that we not share our names, and I knew I had to respect that.

So, instead, I decided to find out the answer to my question at the bar. To find out if she was a moaner or a curser when she came around my cock.

With both hands anchored on her hips, I pulled back enough to slam forward again. Her slight frame jolted upon impact, a cry torn from her lips, but I held her steady. Pistoning my hips, I drove into her blistering heat over and over. I was forced to tear my eyes away from the view of my cock disappearing inside her as it threatened to throw me over the edge.

“Fuck, you take all of me so well. I wish you could see it, love,” I gritted out, not slowing my pace.

Her pussy fluttered at my words, and I prayed she was close. I never wanted this to end; I wanted to take her in every position possible, but would need a reprieve before I let myself succumb to the blinding pleasure coursing through my veins.

When she lowered onto her elbows and reached an arm between her legs, I kept my movements steady, grateful she was willing to aid in expediting her orgasm so we could move onto the next stage I had planned for us.

But instead of touching herself, that hand reached further, gripping my balls and tugging.

“Jesus fuck!” I shouted as my knees buckled, threatening to give out.

That move alone was almost enough to have me coming on the spot.

Her brilliant blue eyes were glazed over when she peeked over her shoulder, a corner of her lips turned up. I’d paused my thrusts, gritting my teeth as she cupped where I was heavy and full, desperate to empty inside her.

But not yet.

Shifting one hand between our bodies, I dislodged her hold on me gently before sliding my fingers over her hip and between her legs. If she wanted to play dirty, fine. I could play dirty, too.

My palm was coated instantly with her arousal, making it harder to gain purchase as my fingers found her swollen clit. Her breathing hitched at that first pass, but I would be showing no mercy now. She’d shown she could handle whatever I was willing to dish out. And if I had it my way, she’d enjoy every second of it.

Pinching that swollen bud between two fingers, I rolled it mercilessly. Her arms gave out, and her entire upper torso fell to the mattress. I resumed thrusting into her from behind as I tugged harder.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.” Her pussy clenched in time with her words, clamping down on that long syllable drawn out at the end as her climax crashed over her.

“Shit.” I pulled out quickly as the tight grip threatened to drag me over with her.

She collapsed fully onto the bed, limbs hanging limp as her choppy breathing punctuated the air.

Damn, it felt good to know I still had it.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 5

Bristol

What the hell was that?

Stunned, I tried to catch my breath while at the same time process what had just happened.

I’d never made it a secret that I not only enjoyed sex but that I’d had my fair share of it. Suffice it to say, I’d been around the block a few more times than was common at twenty-three.

But never in my life had I come so hard.

I couldn’t even see straight, the blinding pleasure making my vision swim. It could’ve been the alcohol buzzing in my veins, but that had been there before we fucked, and my eyesight had been only slightly blurry, so I discounted it.

I was so out of it that I couldn’t recall if he’d gotten off yet.

Before I could regain my bearings, I was flipped over. Trying to focus my eyes, I honed in on the monster jutting out from between his thighs.

Either he hadn’t come yet, or he was ready to go again, though that was doubtful for someone his age. Not that I knew exactly how old he was, but it was a best guess that he was in his early to mid-thirties. Hell, I didn’t even know his name. This was entirely out of character for me, but I needed something to break the cycle. So far, so good.

As I lay there sated, my limbs heavy, he knelt on the bed, crawling toward me. In the dim lighting, he looked like one of those big jungle cats whose eyes glowed in the dark as they stalked their prey. His sweat-dampened hair had fallen over one eye, and when he came within reach, I pushed it away, grazing my fingers over his temple. Those brilliant green depths flared, and his slick body covered mine.

“Guess we have our answer.” His head lowered to trace the line of my collarbone with his tongue.

“What?” My breathing was so choppy that my reply came out sounding more like a pant.

Lifting enough to give me a stunning view of his handsome face, a corner of his lips turned up in a smirk. “It’s both. You’re a moaner and curser. And, love, it was so fucking hot that I can’t wait to witness it again.”

“Again?” There was a panicked edge to my rising voice.

Those green eyes darkened, and his voice deepened. “Oh yes. Again and again and again. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

I’d barely survived the first orgasm, and he wanted to give more? Who was this man, and what kind of sex god was he?

Honestly, most of my former bed partners were more interested in their own pleasure than mine. I thought that was how the world worked. Foreplay was usually a means to an end.

Nothing came close to the spanking I’d received from Green Eyes. Each sharp crack had sent a bolt of pleasure straight to my clit, and I was throbbing for him by the time he finally decided I’d had enough.

My ass was still stinging, but I didn’t mind. Tomorrow, I would have a souvenir of our night of passion.

Busy in my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed the man above me slinking down my body until he was situated between my thighs, and his tongue dragged a path through my slit.

I nearly convulsed on the spot. “Jesus fucking Christ!”

There was humor in his tone as he pulled away just far enough to speak. “Still a little sensitive, love?”

“A little?” I huffed out. Was he being serious right now? Did he not remember that mere moments ago, he had been aggressively pinching and pulling on my clit until I came?

Thumbs stroked soothing circles along my inner thighs. “I’ve been dying to taste you all night, beautiful. The tiny sampling earlier only made me crave you more. Please?”

Was this an older guy thing? That they enjoyed going down on women? Sure, we’d been flirting at the bar about the fact that shooting whiskey straight meant he wasn’t afraid to do it, but I’d thought it was a line. I had certainly heard my fair share of them over the years, designed to get me into bed with promises that were never fulfilled, so the bar of my expectations was set pretty low.

But this man was telling me he enjoyed it so much that he was willing to beg for it?

To this point, every guy I’d been with viewed it as a chore, and I would lay bets they pretended to be bad at it so I would tell them to stop, and we could move on to other activities they were more interested in.

If he knows how to fuck, maybe he knows how to eat out a woman properly. And he seems to want it, so who am I to stop him?

I threw an arm over my eyes but nodded. I hadn’t made eye contact since he’d gone down there, but I knew he had been watching for my reaction, my consent, because he threw one of my thighs over his broad shoulders, and I felt his breath fanning my sensitive flesh.

Instead of going straight for my pleasure center, this time, he speared his tongue deep inside me, mimicking the thrusts of his cock. My back arched off the bed, and my free hand tangled in his hair, urging him on. His hum of pleasure vibrated against me, and a moan flew past my lips.

One giant hand skimmed over my stomach until it reached my breast. Palming it gently at first, he dragged a thumb over the sensitive peak, and I gasped. Every nerve ending felt like it was exposed after that first orgasm, and every touch was now amplified. I wasn’t sure a person could die from pleasure overload, but I had a feeling I was about to find out.

His tongue moved back to where it had started with a flicking pass over my clit. I wanted to shy away, to escape the intense sensations, but his grip on my hip held me in place. Heat licked up my spine, spreading out to my extremities as he ate at me like a starving man who would never get his fill.

My grip on his hair tightened, pulling on the dark strands as my climax drew nearer. I bucked against his face, my body begging for more while my brain screamed that it was too much.

The hand on my breast traveled south, but instead of anchoring on my other hip like its partner, two fingers were shoved roughly inside me, curling just right so that I saw stars.

A strangled cry left my lips, and I fought the wave rising inside me.

Between my thighs, he growled as those fingers pressed some magic button inside me, not relenting for one second. “Come on, love, let me hear you fall apart.”

My body was his to command, and without delay, I flew over the edge.

“Oh my God. Holy shiiiiiiiiit.” I couldn’t help it, even as he chuckled at my vocal response. But it had never been like this before. I’d never lost control—or rather, let my guard down enough to hand over control to another human being. He brought something out in me I hadn’t known existed. And if I was being honest, I kinda liked it. It was liberating to know he would take care of me, which was crazy because I barely knew him.

“Fucking perfection,” he whispered against my skin, peppering kisses along my inner thighs as I came down from the intense high.

My eyes were tightly shut, tears leaking from the corners due to the intensity of my climax. Fingers trailed a path up my sides until a hand cupped my face and turned it to the side. My heart was still hammering inside my chest, my breathing uneven, but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the night wasn’t over yet. I was currently sitting at two on the orgasm counter while he rested at zero.

I wasn’t sure I could survive another. Maybe we could find a way where he got off and I didn’t. He had to be ready to blow after holding back for so long, right?

Lips brushed softly against mine. “You okay?”

I swallowed and managed to nod. “Barely,” I breathed out. Still in disbelief of his physical prowess, I asked, “Did you take, like, a class or something?”

His hearty laughter warmed my soul as his thumb stroked over my cheek. “You’re incredible, you know that? Beautiful, funny, intelligent from what I can tell, and sexually responsive in a way men dream about. The total package.”

My heart sank. There was one man who hadn’t seen all those things. And I hated how he’d worked himself into this perfect moment.

When my lip trembled, concern filled his voice. “Shit. What did I say?”

I shook my head slightly, trying to turn away, but his hold on my face wouldn’t allow it.

“It’s nothing,” I whispered.

His sigh was so heavy that his chest brushed against my side. “The douche?”

I nodded, scrunching up my nose, trying to stave off the tears.

“Let me guess. He couldn’t see the good thing standing right in front of him.”

My eyes flew open, and the green ones staring back at me were full of compassion.

“Something like that,” I muttered.

His lips pulled inward in thought. “Hmm. Then I guess there’s only one thing we can do.”

Confused, my brows drew down. “What’s that?”

“Fuck the memory of him away.”

He said it with such a straight face that I burst out laughing, and he smiled in response.

Brushing away the tears from a mixture of ecstasy and heartbreak, he said, “I’d rather hear you scream than see you cry.”

I leaned into his hand. “How can I argue with that?”

“You can’t.” He gave me a roguish grin.

Sitting up suddenly, he grasped my hand. When he tried to tug me to sit beside him, my limp body wouldn’t obey. It was as if I was weighed down, sluggish after the pleasure he’d wrung from me only moments ago.

“Up you go,” he commanded, maneuvering my body until I sat across his lap.

His relentless erection was trapped between my ass and his thighs, and I couldn’t help but wiggle against it. A groan rumbled through his chest, vibrating against mine. Moving and bending my limbs to his will, eventually, he had me situated, straddling his lap, his length resting between our stomachs.

Forehead pressed to mine, he asked, “You think you’ve got one more in you?”

A rush of air flew past my lips. “No, but I have a feeling you’ll find a way to make it happen anyway.”

“See? I knew you were smart.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

Fingers digging into my hips, he lifted me from his lap so that I hovered above his straining cock. He let the tip glide through me, and I hissed when it bumped against my clit.

His throaty chuckle met my ears. “I could play with you all night long and never tire of you.”

I whined, trying to sit on his cock. “Please. Don’t make me wait.”

Slowly, he impaled me until my ass rested on his impressive thighs.

“Christ,” he breathed. “I thought I imagined how fucking tight you were before.”

I tensed my core, and his grip on my hips grew punishing.

Those green eyes blazed, heating my blood, and through gritted teeth, he ordered, “Legs up.”

A scoff filled the air. “Think again, big guy. I can’t even feel my legs right now.”

I could tell he was losing control, but some small part of me wanted to unleash the animal lurking beneath the surface. The sex had been mind-blowing when he’d exhibited restraint, taking care of me before himself, so I could only imagine how much hotter it would get when he let loose.

Abandoning his hold on my hips, his hands worked in unison to prop my knees up so I was practically in a squatting position over his lap. Did he seriously think I had the strength to ride him like this?

He must have known the answer because his hands resumed their anchor position on my hips, lifting my body with ease before slamming me back down. My scream split the air, mixing with his guttural groan.

“Hold on, love, because it’s my turn now. I’m going to use your tight little cunt to get off, but don’t think I’m not taking you with me.”

I gaped at him. But before there was time to process the meaning of his words, my body was lifted and slammed down again. This position allowed him to glide me over his length with little to no resistance, my knee joints acting as a hinge. My torso sagged forward, my lips pressed against his shoulder.

He meant what he said; he was going to use my body to bring us both pleasure. After a few jarring slams, he ground me down against the base of his cock, the edge of it rubbing along my clit with how I was seated atop him. I moaned, powerless to stop the electric current zapping through me from head to toe.

As he shook me back and forth across his lap, he hit the perfect spots inside and out. It was a lethal combination that had me biting down on the skin I could reach with my teeth to stifle the near screams that rose from my throat as a third orgasm barreled toward me.

But nothing seemed to slow him down.

I was riding the edge of release when he threw me over, my body seizing in his arms. A grunt sounded near my ear, but my hearing faded with the force of my climax.

Suddenly, my weight was shifted, allowing my hips to hover a few inches above his pelvis. He bounced me on his cock, teasing the head as unending pleasure rolled over me like honey, thick and sweet.

Then, his fingers tightened to the point of pain, and we crashed together one last time. When he held me down, I felt his dick swell inside me as it began to pulse, and a roar breached my hazy hearing. A flash of fire seared along my neck, but I was too far gone to care.

Unsure of how long we sat there, locked together, I felt his arms loop around my waist, fingers teasing my overheated flesh as our breathing evened out.

One hand tangled in my hair, cradling the back of my head. Warm puffs of air fanned along my neck. “That one was so good you went silent at the end,” he mused.

“Did I?” I asked in a daze. “My hearing dropped out, so I have no clue.”

As reality crashed down that I’d not only slept with a stranger but brought him home, his chuckle lightened the mood, easing the panic before it rose to the surface.

“Leg numbness, temporary deafness . . . I really did a number on you, didn’t I?” he mused.

I snuggled into his embrace, loving how safe he made me feel even though I didn’t know him from Adam. But he’d found me in my moment of need and comforted me. I would never forget that, even after we parted ways.

“Don’t freak out, but I’m going to move us into the bathroom to clean up, okay?”

I nodded against his chest before strong arms lifted me, and we crossed the distance to the ensuite bathroom. He placed me onto the toilet—clearly no stranger to the needs of the female body post-coitus—while he dealt with the condom. With his back turned, I took in the tight muscles of his ass, biting my lip thinking about the power with which he’d just railed me.

Finishing up my business, I stood and washed my hands. He followed me into the bedroom, where I threw on an oversized T-shirt. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched as he pulled on his black boxer briefs, tucking away his impressive package.

I still can’t believe that thing fit inside me.

He ran a hand through his thick hair, unsure what to do next. When his eyes met mine, I knew I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not yet.

“Do you—” I took a moment to steel my nerves and just ask. “Do you wanna stay for a bit? It’s okay if you don’t.” I blew out a breath as my face flamed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how these things work.”

Stepping forward, he placed a finger to my lips to silence my rambling. A slight smile curved on his handsome face. “Relax. I can stay. For a little while.”

“Okay.” I nodded, taking a cleansing breath.

He climbed onto the bed, settling his massive body in the middle, extending an arm in invitation to join him. Still slightly embarrassed that I had bordered on clinger behavior only moments ago, I turned so my back faced his front and slid in beside him.

One large paw curled around my waist, hauling me backward until our bodies were flush, and I let his heat surround me.

He kissed the back of my head and whispered, “Night, love.”

Yeah, let’s just pretend that little term of endearment doesn’t do funny things to my insides.

“Night.” The word was lost on a yawn.

With a solid wall of muscle against my back, I slipped into unconsciousness. And for the first time in months—no, years—I did so without a single thought toward Nix.

My mystery man had made good on his promise of fucking him right out of my brain.

Thank God.

A shift in the bedding roused me from the deepest sleep I’d had in ages.

I groaned into my pillow but opened my eyes the tiniest crack to find sunlight filtering through the window.

“Damn,” a sleep-roughened voice whispered. “I was trying not to wake you.”

Flashes of last night came rushing back, and suddenly, I was wide awake, sitting bolt upright in bed. My mystery man was standing by the side of the bed, pulling on his jeans.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Little past six.” He looked mildly uncomfortable, shifting on his feet, eyes darting around the room. “I—uh—I’ve gotta get going. I’m due at work soon.”

Our time together was over.

Disappointment crashed over me, and I sunk my teeth into my lower lip to keep it from trembling. This was not me—the weepy mess after the most amazing sex I’d ever had—but being burned had changed me.

“Right. Yeah, me too,” I offered.

He threw his shirt over his head, punching both fists through the arm holes. Placing a hand on the bed, he leaned in close enough to place a soft kiss on my lips. “I had a good time last night. Who knows, maybe our paths might cross again.”

“Maybe.” I gave him a small smile.

His thumb traced a path over my lower lip, and it almost seemed like he was reluctant to leave. I fought the urge to beg for his name, to secure the possibility of seeing each other again. But I reminded myself that I came to Indy for a fresh start, and tying myself to another man would only be a distraction. I needed to stand on my own two feet for a while. That was what was best for me, and it was long past time I put myself first.

Heaving a sigh, he pulled away. “Bye, love.”

My heart squeezed, but I forced myself to say, “Bye.”

He turned away and left my bedroom, and before long, the front door opened and shut. He was gone, and I would always wonder if things might have been different if I wasn’t such a mess when we’d met.

But there wasn’t time to dwell on the what-ifs of last night.

Today was the start of the rest of my life. And I was determined for it to get off on the right foot.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 6

Bristol

I was alive with nervous energy. I still couldn’t believe I’d snagged this job and would spend the next seven to eight months traveling around North America with the Indy Speed hockey team. Yes, they were the Comets’ biggest rivals—and I’d grown to hate them as a Hartford girl, born and raised—but journalistic integrity demanded I leave my personal feelings at the door when I stepped across the threshold of Speed Arena for media day.

Media. I was the media.

It still didn’t feel real.

I flashed my press badge at the security officer manning the entrance and followed the directions to where my colleagues would be set up for the day’s events. The players would be filming promotional clips and having their annual headshots taken before addressing the press. The first portion of the day would be our chance to speak with the front office personnel and the Speed’s new head coach, Maddox Sterling.

As a former player, Maddox had no coaching experience. It would be sink or swim, and the vultures were circling. Coaching at the professional level was a high-pressure job, and only time would tell if he was up to the task.

Entering the press room, I noticed groups of journalists gathered around the space, but what caught my eye was the breakfast spread set up in the back. Sending up a silent prayer of thanks, I made a beeline for the table, not having had time to eat anything after spending too long getting ready for my first day. And it sure didn’t help that I was living out of boxes and needed to find an outfit that would cover up the giant hickey on my neck.

It hadn’t exactly been the zen morning I was hoping for.

Grabbing a plate, I filled it with fruit and a frosted Danish when someone stepped up beside me. I peeked over to find a professionally dressed blonde in her late twenties, possibly early thirties.

She gave me a bright smile. “First year with the Speed?”

I blushed, dropping my gaze to my plate. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, I, for one, take notice when a woman walks into this room. And I’m sure the players will too. Bunch of flirts, that lot.” She laughed after pointing out what I already knew—that far too few women were involved in sports media. It was, hands-down, a male-dominated field, but I hoped my reporting would go a long way toward clearing the path for young girls who loved any and all sports, like I had growing up. I firmly believed that if you could see her, you could be her.

“I’m Bristol Cooper. Just started with the Indy Sports Review.” I extended my free hand to the blonde.

“Nice to meet you, Bristol. I’m Alyssa Simon. I’ve been with the Indianapolis Tribune for six years, but this will be my third covering the Speed.”

“So, you were there for the championship run?” The Speed had made it to the Finals a year ago but fell just short, losing the series in six games. Since then, they’d struggled. The count was still out whether it was due to losing their captain—none other than Maddox Sterling, their new coach—or poor coaching.

“Yeah,” Alyssa nodded. “Such a shame what happened to Maddox in the Conference Finals. I’ve never seen a man look more broken after that.”

I grimaced. “It was that bad?”

“He lost everything he’d ever worked for in an instant, and it hit the team hard.” She laughed lightly under her breath. “Though, it will take some getting used to addressing him as Coach Sterling instead of Maddox.”

I’d done my research on the new coach of the Indy Speed. A Seattle kid, he’d come up through the prestigious National Junior Team in Detroit before being drafted by the Speed in the second round of his draft year. Not ready for the pros at eighteen, he’d elected to play college hockey at Colorado State College in Denver.

If memory served, that was the same place where Cal Berg, former defenseman and current on-air commentator for the Comets, had played. Considering the men were only two years apart in age, I wondered if they’d played on the team at the same time. Thinking back to the Comets’ championship run and the second-round series with the Speed, there had been some cocky back and forth between the two men.

Maddox Sterling spent two years playing in Denver before the Speed had called him up to play at only twenty. By the time his entry-level contract expired three years later, he’d been named their captain. He played for them for fourteen years before a career-ending injury took him out of the game.

That injury had occurred a little over a year ago, and over the summer, he was named Speed’s newest head coach, the youngest and least experienced in the entire league. The shakeup behind the bench had the potential for an exciting first few months of reporting on this team.

“I’m still getting used to him not being the enemy,” I joked with Alyssa before I took a bite of my Danish.

Her blue eyes widened. “Oh boy. Let me guess. Comets fan?” She winced, naming the Speed’s biggest divisional rival.

“Drove in from Hartford yesterday,” I admitted.

“Yikes.” She gave me a playful wink. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they sent a spy.”

A snort sounded, and I slapped a hand over my mouth and nose. Several of the men in the room turned to stare, and my cheeks heated. Alyssa smirked, and I knew instantly she would be my partner in crime once we hit the road. Dakota would have Braxton keeping an eye out for me, but I was a big girl, and having a protective older brother type who doubled as my best friend’s almost fiancé wasn’t what I needed to shake the shadows of the past and become an independent woman.

Placing a hand on my elbow, Alyssa guided us to seats in the middle of the room, assuring me that that was the best location. The front-row occupants often were overeager, which annoyed whoever happened to be speaking, and they gravitated to those behind them—which, now, would be us.

When my tender ass hit the unyielding plastic of the chair, I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth.

Alyssa turned to me in concern. “Are you okay?”

I threw on a fake smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. The seat was just a little cold.”

Never mind that my sore backside was a reminder of the man who had rocked my world only a few hours ago. I shifted in my seat, simultaneously trying to find a position that hurt my butt the least while also trying to ease the renewed ache between my thighs at thoughts of Mr. Green Eyes.

Once she was satisfied that I was indeed all right, she asked, “So, I’m assuming you’re a Braxton Slate fan? Or are you still salty about us stealing him away?”

Stealing was an interesting word choice. Unfortunately, I’d had a front-row seat to the emotional destruction that had led to Braxton demanding a trade during his rookie season. It had nearly broken Dakota. Witnessing it was devastating—so devastating that I knew what I had with Nix would never come close to what they shared. If only I’d taken action after that warning signal, I might not have ended up heartbroken myself.

Dwelling on the past wasn’t what today was about. No, it was about moving forward, creating a life where I held value beyond the man I was attached to.

Feeling Alyssa’s eyes still on me, I realized I’d gotten lost in my head again, and she was waiting for an answer. Knowing the cat would be out of the bag as soon as we met with the players, I admitted, “Believe it or not, my best friend and former roommate from back in Hartford is dating Braxton.”

Alyssa’s eyes flew wide, and her mouth dropped open. “No way.” When I nodded in confirmation, she leaned in close, whispering, “Have you read her books?”

I couldn’t hold back the smile that split my face. Dakota wrote dirty books—under the pen name D.D. Morgan—which was beyond amusing because she’d been doing so as a virgin prior to hooking up with Braxton. I loved that she was unashamed in providing a guilty pleasure for so many women, and in these past couple of years since her career had taken off, it was like she was a mini celebrity in her own right.

“Every single one,” I answered proudly.

She hesitated briefly before asking, “Even the one people say is about Braxton?”

Oh, that book.

That book was the catalyst for all three of us relocating to Indianapolis from Hartford.

We had all been running from something.

For Braxton, it was initially Dakota, but primarily, he was trying to escape living in Jaxon’s shadow.

Dakota might have claimed she was running to Braxton, but her home life growing up hadn’t been great. There were a lot of bad memories for Dakota in our hometown.

Then there was me. I knew working for a professional hockey team, especially a divisional rival of the Comets, would put me in the same place as Nix occasionally, but if I played it smart, I could avoid him.

The bottom line was that my best friend and the man who adored her were happy and thriving in Indy, and I knew that, given enough time, I would too.

I played it off like the book hadn’t blown up their world, smiling widely. “Of course. That was her big break. And not to take too much credit, but I was the one who gave her a nudge to move into hockey romance.”

Alyssa pulled back with a sigh, placing a hand to her chest as a dreamy expression stole over her face. “Yeah. I can see why they’re so popular. Having spent years up close and personal with those hunks? It’s a miracle I don’t burst into flames every time I enter the locker room.”

I bit back a smile. Once upon a time, I had seen the appeal and been smitten myself with those stunningly toned hockey boys. But that ship had sailed.

The seats around us filled, indicating that the first press conference of the season was about to begin. Everyone pulled out their phones and set them to record while cameramen in the back settled into position.

First, the general manager, Jared McCall, stepped up to the podium. Giving the room a smile born of years of practice addressing the media, he spoke. “Welcome to the first day of the preseason, everyone.” There was a low rumble throughout the room, acknowledging him. “We are very excited to embark on a new season with some new faces, both here in the media room”—he tipped his head in my direction, causing me to sit up straighter—“and on the ice. But there is one familiar face that we are the most excited about. This summer, we decided to part ways with our head coach, and in the search for a new one, we realized that the perfect candidate was already roaming our halls. Please allow me to welcome back to the Speed, in a different capacity, Maddox Sterling, our new head coach.”

McCall stepped aside, his eyes trained on the door, where a tall man who filled out a dark gray suit to perfection waltzed into the room. Dark hair was slicked back from his forehead, and a clean, strong jaw was visible from the side view as he continued closing the space to the podium. But when he turned to face the press pack and his vibrant green eyes scanned the crowd, my breath seized.

No. It can’t be.

I had half convinced myself that my mind was playing tricks on me and that there was no possible way I’d slept with the Maddox Sterling last night, but then he spoke.

“Thank you, Jared. I’m honored to have the opportunity to remain with the Speed past my playing days.”

His deep voice confirmed his identity as my mystery man. It was a voice I would hear in my dreams for years to come.

“Oh my God,” I breathed out.

Alyssa nudged me playfully with an elbow, saying under her breath, “I know, right? So hot.”

“Uh-huh,” was all I could manage as I realized my career in Indy—most specifically, working with the Speed—was over before it even began.

Maddox continued to address the room. “It’s exciting that I’m taking over at a time when the Speed has acquired some new talent, both in the draft and in free agency, as we continue our quest to return to the Finals, this time with the aim of winning the championship. We came close once. I know we can do it again.”

There was some excited applause from those seated.

“Now, you all know how much I love being in front of the camera . . .”—his voice trailed off, and several reporters chuckled—“but I know it’s my job now to keep you up to date, so I’ll do my best to make myself available during the appropriate times. Yes, I know we all travel together, but please be respectful of the players and staff during our downtime. There is plenty of time designated for the press at home and on the road. I’ll now open up the floor to questions.”

As Alyssa had predicted, the front row’s hands rose quickly, vying for attention from the Speed’s newest head coach. It was clear from the look on his face that he wasn’t a fan of these eager beavers, and his green gaze scanned the crowd.

When those shining emeralds locked on where I sat, they widened as recognition set in. Maddox’s lips twitched imperceptibly, and I watched as the carnal knowledge he held of me filtered through his mind.

My heart began beating in triple time, pounding in my ears so loud I was sure everyone could hear it, instantly knowing I’d crossed a line with the coach.

“I think it’s only fair that since I’m new to my position, I take my first question from our newest correspondent. Miss . . .”

Even though his eyes were searing straight into me, raising my core temperature, I peeked around, certain he meant someone else—more accurately, praying that was the case.

Alyssa spoke quietly in my ear. “I think he means you.”

Of course, he does. Because fuck my life. Fuck my entire career, for that matter. Because in my need to escape for one night, I fucked the goddamn head coach of the Indy Speed and didn’t want to know his motherfucking name!

Amusement sparkled in Maddox’s eyes as I took a moment to mentally freak out before pulling myself back together.

Taking a cleansing breath, I offered my name as professionally as possible, mindful that we had an audience. “Cooper. Bristol Cooper with the Indy Sports Review.” He dipped his chin in acknowledgment, allowing me to ask my first official question as a member of the Indy Speed press pack. “This is your first time head coaching. How do you feel you can be an asset to the Speed over a candidate with more experience?”

In a flash, Maddox’s demeanor changed. Gone was the playful, sexy man who was secretly delighting in my predicament, replaced with one barely able to conceal his rage. A muscle along his freshly shaven jawline twitched, indicating his teeth were gritted, and those warm green eyes hardened, giving me a cool glare that had a shiver rolling down my spine.

What the hell did I say wrong?

Nostrils practically flaring, Maddox answered my question. “I don’t need anyone to point out that I’m untested behind the bench. I am as acutely aware as all of you that there were more qualified candidates for this job. You’ll all be witness to my trial by fire. But know this: no man out there can rival my passion for this team. Three-quarters of the roster are men I have played with, have led as their captain. I know their games inside and out. I think that gives me a slight advantage over an outside hire. And they all know that I’m ready to ride into battle with them, through the good and the bad, because we’ve done it before. I might have traded my skates for suits and swapped out weight training for film review, but make no mistake—my heart will forever bleed Indy Speed red and black.”

It became very clear that his inexperience was a sore spot. And I was the silly girl reporter who’d poked at that bruise. Great. It would seem I wasn’t doing myself any favors—last night or today.

His attention finally moved to a new target, and I slumped in my chair, sweat gathering beneath my armpits after the verbal tongue-lashing.

A sure hand grabbed my trembling one, and I turned to find Alyssa giving me an empathetic smile. I was grateful for her offer of comfort and gave a squeeze in response.

“First days are always hard. It’s not your fault. He was never the biggest fan of the press, but it got worse after the injury,” she explained.

“Yeah.” I nodded slightly, fighting hard against the telltale tingles of tears prickling behind my eyes.

Thank God my phone recorded the rest of that press conference because I was lost in another world, far away.

It was typical that in my attempt to branch out, I’d hooked up with a former player. Apparently, I had a type.

Once a puck bunny, always a puck bunny, I guess.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 7

Bristol

The rest of the morning and early afternoon were spent interfacing with the players. There were tons of them at training camp as every man on a contract with the Speed was invited, including those who would spend most of the year with their minor league affiliate, the Cincinnati Crawlers.

Most players knew where they would be headed after camp. Some would be headed to Cincinnati after the first week as the roster narrowed before the start of the regular season. However, there were a few hopefuls who had a shot at making the Speed roster if they could prove themselves in the coming weeks.

We got a break for lunch, and I asked Alyssa if she could point me toward the executive offices.

She twisted her lips. We’d only met this morning, but she could tell that I was off after the press conference.

“Let it go, Bristol. It wasn’t personal.”

I shook my head. “You can either help me, or I can ask Braxton. But I’d rather not have him digging into my motives.”

Alyssa sighed. “What are you hoping to accomplish by going up there? Not to mention that level doesn’t have press access. You get caught, and you’re toast. Game over.”

“This is just something I have to do. Trust me.” I pleaded with her with my eyes, hoping she could see that I wouldn’t be deterred.

“Fine,” she huffed. “Only certain elevator banks go to that floor, and usually, they require badge access. You might catch a lucky break that they’re disabled today with only internal staff and press in the building, but if not, you’ll have to forget it.”

I let that information settle for a minute before I asked, “Do players have access?”

The way her eyes cut to the side told me they did. If I couldn’t get up there myself, I would be forced to beg Braxton for help. I wasn’t sure how I would get around answering his questions about why I needed to get up there. But I was quick on my feet. I would figure it out.

“Please don’t get caught.” Alyssa sighed. “It’s lonely being the only woman on the press team. I could really use a friend.”

I gave her a small smile. “I’ll be fine.” Well, I would be, so long as I could get Maddox alone in a room and convince him to pretend like we’d never met. That was the only way this would work, allowing me to keep my job.

She lifted a finger, pointing down the corridor behind me. “Take a left after the home locker room. The elevators beside the training room are the ones you need. Fifth floor.”

The weight that had settled over my chest since I recognized Maddox in the press room eased just a fraction. “Thank you.”

Alyssa looked skyward. “Just hope I don’t come to regret it.”

Leaning in, I gave her a quick hug before turning in the direction she indicated. I peeked over my shoulder to ensure no one noticed I was leaving the group. So far, so good.

Thankfully, I didn’t cross paths with a single soul, and the elevators were indeed unlocked. Pressing the button to take me to the fifth floor, I leaned against the brushed nickel wall as it began its ascent. When I reached my destination, a soft ding sounded, and the doors slid open to reveal a whole row of offices.

Stepping lightly, I passed each one, noting most doors were closed, which worked to my advantage in avoiding discovery. The fourth door held a nameplate with Maddox’s name. The door was cracked open, and I held my fist up, pausing before bringing it down on the wood and announcing my arrival. A small part of me hoped he wasn’t inside—the cowardly part that wasn’t ready to own up to last night’s actions—but I forced myself to knock anyway.

“Come in,” that silky-smooth voice called from the other side.

Exhaling deeply, I pushed inside to the view of Maddox from behind as he stood, staring out a pane-glass wall overlooking the main rink of Speed Arena below. A practice rink was settled beneath, keeping all activities and offices here instead of in another location.

His head turned enough to catch me in his periphery, and he hummed before returning his gaze to the empty arena.

Latching the door behind me, I approached where he stood, mindful to keep my body on the opposite side of his desk.

“What can I do for you, Miss Cooper?” The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees at his icy tone.

“I thought we should talk about how last night comes into play with our professional relationship.”

He spun around so fast that I took a step back in surprise. “And what exactly is our professional relationship, Miss Cooper?”

Clasping my hands together in front of my hips, I said, “The one where I’m a member of the press covering the Speed, and you’re their head coach.”

Maddox reached a hand up to run it through his hair, but when he encountered the gel that held it in place, he dropped it, clenching the fist by his side. He scoffed. “Communications.”

He was referring to my vague answer from last night when he’d asked about my profession.

Before I could say anything, he asked, “Is that why you didn’t want to share names?”

His distrust in me was palpable, but I needed to set a few things straight.

“No.” I shook my head. “This job is important to me. I would never have gone out of my way to jeopardize it before it even began.”

Carefully, he assessed me. First, he searched my eyes for any hint that I might be lying. Then, he took his time scanning my form from head to toe, eyes lighting with that same fire they’d held last night. Finally, those blazing green gems returned to my face, and I could feel the heat rising. He might be all wrong for me—sleeping with him could very well mean career suicide—but there was no denying I was attracted to him, even now.

With an eyebrow raised, Maddox said, “You seriously expect me to believe you had no idea who I was last night?”

His words implied that I was just another bimbo offered a sports job to hit a quota, and it cut deep to my core. It was precisely why I had turned down offers in broadcast journalism. Being behind a computer offered less bias and certainly less leering.

So, feeling backed into a corner, I lashed out. “Look, you watched me down at least two whiskeys last night before I took you home.”

He bristled. “Are you accusing me of taking advantage of you?”

“No. But I am saying I was feeling good in the moment, and the lights were dimmed. And there’s a possibility that my mind didn’t want to recognize you because I can assure you that I am good at my job and I do know this sport inside and out, which is why I came up here to talk to you. I need to make sure that we’re on the same page.”

“And what page is that, Miss Cooper?”

I sighed. “It’s Bristol, please. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you call the other reporters by their first names.” When he didn’t offer to correct how he addressed me, I answered his question. “We need to forget that last night ever happened. If anyone finds out. . . Let’s just say you’ll be touted as a hero who banged the hot young redhead, and I’ll be dragged through the mud as the reporter who sleeps around to get ahead. It won’t matter that we hooked up before the season began. My career will be ruined. I need this fresh start.“ I swallowed and blinked back the tears, my voice weakening as I said one final word, “Please.”

Maddox dragged a hand down his face, rubbing along his jaw. He’d looked sexy with a beard last night, but damn if he wasn’t hotter than hell clean-shaven. When he simply stared at me, l panicked that he wouldn’t grant my request. That I was sunk, and I’d blown up my life twice in a matter of months.

Turning on my heel, I bolted for the door.

As a single tear escaped, I heard him call out my name for the first time. “Bristol!”

And I promptly began to sob as I ran as fast and as far as my legs would carry me.

Pushing through the door to the ladies’ room I barely saw through watery eyes, I locked the main door behind me as soon as I confirmed I was alone inside. Collapsing against the closest wall, I slid to the floor, not caring that it was likely covered in countless germs.

Digging my phone out of my purse, I dialed the only person I could after this nightmare of a morning.

As the receiver rang in my ear, I chanted under my breath, “Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.”

The line connected, and Dakota’s voice teased, “What’s wrong, sweetie? Forget to take your lunch on the first day? Mom’s kinda busy, but if you ask nicely, I can drop it off.”

The reminder that my first day could very well be my last had me bursting into loud, messy tears all over again.

“Bristol? What’s wrong?” Concern laced Dakota’s words.

Sniffling, I calmed down enough to force out through hiccups, “I really messed up this time.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Finally, my best friend said, “Oh God. Bristol, honey, I say this with all the love in the world, but please tell me you’re not pregnant.”

“No!” I screamed, wincing at the volume with the headache threatening behind my eyes.

Leave it to Dakota to point out the only silver lining in this whole mess. It could always be worse. If, at some point in the last three years, Nix had knocked me up, I would’ve been done for. He wouldn’t have stepped up. No, he’d have tried to make the whole thing disappear. I would have been forced to choose between him and a piece of myself. What’s worse was that in the frame of mind I’d been in back then, I might have chosen him. I shuddered at the thought.

I had been confident that getting away from him would allow me to regain my strength, but here I was again, my fate resting in the hands of a man.

Same Bristol, different day.

Jesus, I was getting whiplash with how quickly my life had turned on a dime.

Last night had been so incredible. I’d woken with a smile on my face, even as Maddox—fuck, I still can’t believe I didn’t recognize him—was getting dressed, preparing to leave me. Now, I was facing career suicide. I couldn’t catch a break.

But was I really surprised? I’d let my pussy call the shots last night, and she hadn’t gotten the memo that we were off hockey boys. Sure, Maddox wasn’t technically a player anymore, but it wasn’t like there was a switch that flipped off once his career ended—he was just as smooth as the rest, knowing how to play a woman. And God, how he’d played my body.

I guess if I were going down, it would be with one hell of a bang.

“Bristol, tell me what happened.” Dakota’s voice in my ear reminded me of where I was and why I’d called.

Squeezing my eyes shut, even though she couldn’t see me, I said the words out loud. “I slept with Maddox Sterling last night.”

“WHAT?!” The screech on the other end of the line had me hanging my head in shame.

“I know.” I groaned. “It’s so bad.”

The way she was huffing, I could tell she was trying to formulate words. Finally, she asked, “How did this happen? And what made you think it was a good idea?”

I felt the need to defend myself. “I didn’t know it was him!”

Dakota snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

“Seriously. I really didn’t.”

“How is that even possible?” Doubt dripped from every word.

“Look.” I sighed. “After you guys left me at Pipes, I got up on stage.” Dakota snickered, but I pressed on. “A tall, dark, handsome stranger with extremely striking green eyes took a seat right up front. I will be the first to admit to wearing whiskey goggles. After I finished up, we got to talking—well, it was more like flirting with the intention of fucking, but who’s splitting hairs. I was the one who insisted on no names before taking him home. I have to believe that if I heard a name as unique as Maddox, I would have pieced it together and walked away. But I was too fucking desperate to cleanse the memory of Nix’s hands on my body.”

“I have to say I’m impressed he was still interested after hearing you sing.” I could tell she was trying to hold back laughter.

“I hate you.” She knew I didn’t mean it.

“At least tell me it was worth it.”

I practically whimpered against the memory of his hands on my body, the pleasure he commanded so effortlessly. “Best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Book-worthy material?” she challenged.

I grinned; my girl was never not working. “What’s the ignition temp on paper again? Whatever it is, it was hotter than that. And I have to admit, I thought you were full of shit all these years, writing hung heroes.”

Dakota sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh my God. Is Maddox—“

“I kid you not; it was like staring down the business end of a traffic cone.”

“Really,” she said on a breathy exhale. “Congrats?”

“Oh, and did I mention my ass is so sore I can barely sit today?”

“Ummmm, that could be interpreted in multiple ways. Care to elaborate? Because my mind went to the far dirtier option automatically.”

Leave it to my bestie to have her mind in the gutter. I mean, I couldn’t blame her; the intricacies of sex were how she made a living.

“My ass is black and blue. The man is large everywhere, and that extends to his hands,” I explained.

“He hit you?” Her voice rose in pitch. “And not like a playful swat, but enough to cover you in bruises?”

I stopped her before she went off the deep end. “It was consensual, I promise. Poor guy thought I was gonna kick him out after he did it the first time. But damn, the expression on his face when I begged him to do it again? That’ll be spank bank material for years to come.”

“Only you,” she muttered. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Well, currently, I’m sitting on a bathroom floor on the executive level of the arena after running from his office crying.”

“It’s probably best that we circle back to that. Why were you crying?”

“Because he’s a jerk.” I huffed, pouting like a toddler.

“Hmm. Doesn’t sound like the Maddox I know.”

“Yeah, well. I’m sure you’re not privy to the womanizing asshole side. First, he dressed me down in front of the entire press pack after I asked my first question. Then, I went up to his office to try and figure out a way we could maybe work together, and he practically accused me of purposely hiding my identity last night. When I pleaded that I had no idea who he was at the time, he wrote me off as another airhead woman sports reporter.”

“That’s not true.” Dakota’s soft voice tried to soothe me.

“I know that.” I took a deep breath in through my nose before releasing it. “And I told him as much. But when I begged him to keep what happened between us quiet because of how badly I need this fresh start, he only stared at me. I know he’s going to blow this for me. He’s pissed, thinking I used him to get ahead, and it’s all over. From what I understand, he has a complicated relationship with the media, and I might be the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

Dakota hummed. “Want me to have Braxton talk to him? He can vouch for you. Try to get Maddox to understand your situation.”

“You can’t tell anyone! Especially not Braxton.”

“Braxton!” she yelled before grumbling, “Oh, I’m going to kill him.”

She’d lost me. “What are you talking about?”

“Remember last night when you kept saying you didn’t want him to invite any players?”

“Yeah . . .” Where was she going with this?

“And he kept protesting that he hadn’t invited any players . . .”

It struck me like a bolt of lightning, and I gasped. “He didn’t.”

Dakota groaned. “He so did. But we thought Maddox was a no-show. He never comes out anymore.”

“A little warning would have been nice,” I grumbled.

“Yeah, funny thing about hindsight. Didn’t really think that when we left, he was gonna show up, and you would take him home for a no-names one-night stand.”

“Fuck my life,” I groaned.

“Did it at least cleanse all the bad Nix juju from your aura?” she asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, only to be replaced by that of Maddox Sterling.”

“Well, if you want my opinion—“

“I don’t.” I cut her off.

She continued anyway. “Maddox is a hell of an upgrade. That filled-out older man look? Don’t tell Braxton, but I get a little excited thinking about how one day he’s going to work his way into the body his brother has in his thirties.”

That brought a smile to my lips. The first since before Maddox walked into that press room. “Hey! Jaxon was my crush first!”

“You can keep him,” she teased. “I’ve got the younger model.”

That, she did. Those brothers could very well be twins.

“So, what are you gonna do?” Dakota brought us back to the more pressing issue of my career imploding.

“I don’t know. It’s out of my hands. My pussy was in the driver’s seat last night, and now I’m the one who will have to pay the price. She gets me in far more trouble than she’s worth.”

“Take a deep breath and channel your inner Hannah. She wouldn’t let a man take her down, and the Bristol I know and love wouldn’t either.”

I laughed at the idea of Hannah and her take-no-prisoners approach. She was badass and didn’t take shit from anyone. She practically owned Comets Arena and every person working within its walls. You never had to wonder where you stood with her because she would tell you straight up. The first time I met her, she told me I was wasting my time being with Nix to view him as my “hockey hunk training wheels.” I had no idea at the time how right she was, too blinded by his charm and good looks. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. The emotional cost was too high.

“You’re right,” I agreed with my best friend.

“You wanna come over tonight and drown your sorrows in a vat of ice cream?” she offered.

“Nah. As great as it sounds, I’ll have to get my article submitted for publication—if I still have a job by the end of the day—and then I should really work on getting unpacked.”

“You’re going to stay even if this goes sideways?”

“I can’t go back to Hartford,” I whispered, and she understood why.

“Okay. Well, no matter what happens, I’m here for you. And I just so happen to have an extremely flexible job. So, whenever you need me, just call.”

I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the academic advisor who’d unknowingly placed Dakota and me in the same creative writing class our freshman year at Connecticut Central. Without her in my life, I didn’t know where I would be. We were the sister the other had never had.

“I love you, Dakota.” I tried and failed to keep my emotions in check.

“Love you, too, Bristol. Everything’s gonna be fine. I know it.”

“Yeah.” I swallowed against the lump forming in my throat. “And remember, not a word to Braxton.”

“I promise,” Dakota vowed through the phone.

“All right. Time to go see if my career can be salvaged.”

“You’ve got this,” came her words of unending encouragement.

“Talk to you soon.”

“Bye, babe.” Dakota hung up, and I forced myself to my feet.

Taking a peek at my reflection in the wall-length mirror above the row of sinks, I winced at how pink and blotchy my face had become from crying. I grabbed a paper towel and dampened it with cool water before dabbing it under my eyes, hoping to soothe the puffiness there. Once I was satisfied I could pass off any remaining redness under the guise of seasonal allergies, I straightened my clothes and unlocked the door.

The second I stepped across the threshold, I plowed directly into the broad chest of one Maddox Sterling.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 8

Maddox

I knew the first day of the preseason would be difficult, making the transition from player to coach. But it had gone completely off the rails.

This morning, I’d woken up in the bed of a beautiful redheaded goddess, and I never wanted to leave. She had blown my mind in the best possible way, and I wasn’t sure I would ever find an instant connection like the one we’d shared with anyone else. If I hadn’t in the past thirty-five years to this point, the odds were low.

The urge to pin my number to her fridge on my way out had been overwhelming. To leave some way of contacting me. For whatever—I wasn’t sure what.

But something held me back. Probably the fact that even though I’d been inside her, I didn’t know her name, and that’s how she preferred it. I figured even if I left my number, she might toss it without saving it.

So, I decided to leave it up to chance. We’d run into each other once at Pipes; who was to say it wouldn’t happen again? Wasn’t there some saying about letting something go, and if it came back, it was meant to be?

Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that the universe would force us back together only a few hours later.

When I first saw her in the press room, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. The image of her had been at the forefront of my mind since the moment we said goodbye—her wild red hair betraying how hard I’d fucked her all night long, lips swollen and puffy from our endless kisses, the pale blue of her eyes filled with sadness that I was leaving.

But when she spoke—with that same voice I still regretted not hearing screaming my name as she came around my cock—I knew she was real.

Unfortunately, that was also when the spell she’d cast on me at the bar was broken. She asked a question poking at my deepest insecurity in taking over the head coaching role, and I laid into her—indirectly, but everyone in that room knew it was meant for her.

My blood had been boiling ever since. I’d let those doe eyes fool me, taking me for a ride. In reality, she was just another one of the vipers, ready to strike when they sensed weakness.

When I snuck up to my office, it was to cool down. Staring out over the ice surface I’d once ruled, I let the sight calm me. I was still in charge, albeit in a different capacity. I couldn’t make the magic happen anymore, but I could orchestrate it. That would have to be enough. There wasn’t another option.

At a knock at the door, I expected it to be Jared telling me I was needed downstairs or one of my assistant coaches checking on me. What I never expected was for the woman who had sent me reeling in more ways than one to step inside my office. In my frame of mind, I didn’t care much about what she had to say for herself. She’d fucked me to get ahead, maybe hoping for a little buzz piece on how you could take the player out of the game but you couldn’t take the game out of the player.

When in all reality, I was the one who’d been played.

Even still, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her stunning form. She looked different in the light of day and in a professional setting but was no less beautiful than when she was sweaty, tipsy, carefree, and singing off-key at the bar.

That unique copper hair—the color women paid stylists hundreds of dollars to achieve but never came close—was as vibrant as ever, twisted away from her face on the sides and pulled back into a low bun at the nape of her neck. Those perfectly plush lips were painted the same pink as her nipples hiding beneath the fabric of her white blouse, which was tied at the neck with a little bow.

A sense of primal satisfaction flowed through me, knowing that she was covering where I’d marked her neck.

Her heart-shaped ass was trapped inside a form-fitting black pencil skirt, showcasing her slight curves. Sheer black tights covered the bare skin between her knees and ankles, where her feet disappeared into black pumps. I wondered if they were pantyhose or thigh-highs, my hands itching to skim up her legs to find out.

She had the sexy librarian look on lock, and God help me, even feeling used, I was very interested in signing up for a library card so I would have an excuse to return day after day to check out a new book when my real motive was just to see her.

I wanted to hate her for what she’d done, but as she begged and pleaded with me not to say a word to anyone, any malice I felt toward her melted away. She sounded desperate, and it tugged at my heart. I was trying to process the sudden shift of emotions from lust to anger to compassion when her lip trembled. Before I could blink, she ran.

Stunned, it took me longer than normal for my reflexes to kick in and give chase. Thankfully, her red hair acted like a beacon, and I caught a flash of it as she turned the corner at the end of the hallway. By the time I made it there—cursing my bum knee for slowing me down—the door to the women’s restroom slammed shut, accompanied by the telltale sound of the lock sliding into place.

Even with my heart pounding against my ribcage and my pulse filling my ears, I could hear her sobs through the door. Exhaling, I dropped my forehead against the polished wood, kicking myself for being a dick to her.

I’d made assumptions, and now she probably hated me. It would serve me right if she rode me hard with tough questions the rest of the season for how I’d acted.

Being stressed about my new job wasn’t an excuse for lashing out at her. And I would wait until she opened the door—however long that took—so that I could apologize.

We’d gotten off to an explosive start that was quickly doused by a bucket of ice water. I was hoping we could find a happy medium, seeing as how we would be working together for months on end. That was, if she didn’t quit because of my dumb ass.

I would feel terrible if she did. I knew how hard it was for women to gain a foothold in sports reporting, and if she gave up this opportunity, it could be a while before she scored another.

When I heard the lock disengaging, I stepped back, prepared to make amends. What I wasn’t prepared for was for Bristol to barrel right into me at full force, knocking the breath from my lungs with an “oof.”

Instinct had me wrapping my arms around her while I struggled to recover. But when she pushed against my chest, I released her, stepping away.

Even with the space between us, her eyes were still trained on the floor. Drawn to her in a way I couldn’t understand, I tilted her chin up with my fingers beneath it. My heart clenched at the view of her red-rimmed eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I was out of line.”

Those beautiful blue eyes grew glassy, and she looked away. “I know it looks bad.”

It did. She was right about that, but I wouldn’t be the man my father raised me to be if I didn’t give her the benefit of the doubt. Not every woman was a bloodsucking leech who only wanted to sink their claws into a hockey player for their money or a step up in the world. Jenner had found and lost a good woman. Braxton also had one.

What if . . .

No. I shook my head. I couldn’t go there.

What if there was a reason you two connected one day before you began working together?

Fuck. This was not the time to be having these thoughts. I had a job I needed to focus on. And getting tangled up with this woman in particular was a huge conflict of interest.

But God help me, it didn’t stop me from wanting her.

I sighed, explaining, “Last night—” Her eyes locked with mine, eager to hear what I had to say. “It was the first time since the injury that a woman didn’t look at me like I was damaged goods.”

Instead of pity, empathy shone back at me in her gaze, and she ducked her head. “Right. I heard about that.”

A corner of my lips turned up as I teased, “See? Already proving me wrong. You have done your research.”

Her cheeks pinkened, but she cocked her hip, giving me a hint of sass. “I think you’ll find my knowledge of the sport up to par, Coach Sterling.”

“And for the record,” I offered. “You look different from last night, too, but I’d know you anywhere.”

Bristol sighed, her pupils dilating briefly before the shutters slammed down, and she looked away.

What the hell was that about?

“Did I cross the line of our professional relationship, Miss Cooper?”

She shot me a glare as she stepped past me to lean against the opposite wall. Looking skyward, she breathed out, “I just wanted a night of strings-free sex, but apparently, that was too much to ask of the universe. Can’t escape the past no matter how hard I try.”

The past? Did this have anything to do with the cheater?

Before I could ask, she looked directly at me, stating, “You’re not the first hockey player I’ve been with.”

“I’m not a player,” I shot back, even though the admission pained me.

She waved a dismissive hand. “Technicality. You all operate the same. Smooth lines designed to get women into bed before you chew them up and spit them out. You get to move on to the next while we are left destroyed, trying to put the pieces of our life back together.”

Bristol might be the journalist, but as soon as I got a moment alone, I would be digging up any info I could find on her. Given her age, it was probably some little shit wannabe who had ripped her heart out.

But right now, I needed her to know I wasn’t cut from the same cloth. Yes, I’d screwed around, but never had I toyed with a woman’s emotions. It was kind of hard to do when you never stuck around long enough to form a relationship.

Stepping forward, I said softly, “I’m not going to tell anyone.”

Shocked blue eyes stared at me in disbelief. “You’re not?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t think it’s anyone’s business what a head coach and a reporter get up to in their free time.”

Her back was pressed against the wall, and I stepped closer. Her breathing hitched, and she tracked my movements until I was a breath away, my hands caging her in.

“Don’t you agree . . .” I waited a second before I breathed her name, “Bristol?”

Her swallow was audible, and my dick didn’t give a shit that we were at work, rising to the occasion with how close he’d gotten to her body—a body I could picture laid bare with crystal clarity.

“Yes.” The word left her lips on a shaky exhale.

I knew I was walking a fine line but couldn’t resist grazing her cheek with a knuckle. A stuttered breath fanned my face as I pressed my forehead to hers. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.”

“Maddox.” The breathy sound of my name on her lips for the very first time nearly did me in.

A groan rumbled from deep in my chest, and I admitted softly, “I’d have given anything to hear my name rolling off your tongue when you came. Might need a do-over for that reason alone.”

Bristol whimpered as I nuzzled my nose against hers, my lips moments from taking what I already knew was mine.

We were lost to lust, not caring that we were at work.

But reality crashed down hard when a familiar voice called out, “Maddox, they need you—Oh shit.”

Fucking Jenner.

Our heads turned to the side to find my best friend staring at us, slack-jawed, at the end of the corridor.

Bristol recovered first, ducking beneath my arm, muttering, “I should be getting back,” before hightailing it past Jenner with her head down until she was gone from sight.

With an eyebrow raised, Jenner approached where I stood trying to get a handle on the raging erection that would not quit.

There was no way in hell he would drop what he just witnessed. So much for nobody knowing.

A shit-eating grin curved on his lips. “Damn, bud. If I’d known you were hot for redheads, I would’ve done a better job at staggering our showers all these years.”

I shoved at his shoulder. “You’re an idiot.”

“Seriously, Maddox. I know how much you hate the press, especially after what happened”—his eyes dipped briefly at the mention of my injury—“and now I find you cornering the new girl on the first day? What gives? I know she’s pretty, but you can’t go there. You know that.”

Running a hand down my face, I mourned the loss of my beard. Jenner was my best friend. I’d been there for him during the highs and lows of not only his career but his life, and he’d done the same for me. If there was anyone I could trust to keep this quiet, it was him.

Blowing out a breath, I admitted, “The dry spell ended last night.”

Jenner’s brown eyes widened as his dark red eyebrows rose high on his forehead. Peeking over his shoulder, he gestured to where Bristol had fled. “With her?”

I grimaced as the reality of my situation sank in. “Yeah. But in my defense, she insisted on no names. I had no clue who she was, and let’s be real, even if she had shared her name, it wouldn’t have struck a chord. It’s not like I’m handed a list of reporters covering the team for the upcoming season.”

“Dude, this is bad.” Jenner groaned.

“I know.”

“Where did you even meet her?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, knowing he was going to lay into me. “Pipes.”

“Jesus, Maddox! Are you fucking kidding me? Pipes? Everyone knows who you are there. And it’s no secret that’s our main hangout. Chicks flock to that place specifically to shoot their shot with the players. How many times have you hooked up with a bunny you met there?”

“Too many.” I sighed. “But you don’t get it. Women have given me a wide berth since the injury. The way she looked at me—” I paused, picturing her beautiful face as she’d devoured me with her eyes, then later when she begged me to spank her perfect ass. “She saw me as simply a man, instead of the former shell of the player I used to be.”

“It’s your first day as head coach. You can’t do this. Tell me you’re not going to keep seeing her.” Jenner tried to be the voice of reason.

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You could lose everything.” He gave me a stern glare.

Throwing my arms wide, I challenged, “Haven’t I already?”

Jenner softened. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I muttered. “It’s true. But to settle your anxious little mind, she just spent the last half hour crying in the bathroom, thinking her career was over because of last night. She begged me to keep it quiet.”

“Shit,” he said under his breath as he rubbed a hand over his chest, near his heart. I knew he was thinking of his ex-wife, Evie. His Achilles’ heel was his empathy toward emotional women. It hurt him to see them upset for any reason, and his marriage had ended because he couldn’t stand to see his wife suffering. The tradeoff was that he was forced to let her go, but he had never stopped loving her. I hated it for him.

“So that means”—I made sure he looked me in the eye before continuing—“this stays between us.”

Jenner nodded in confirmation. “Got it.” He let out a low chuckle. “Leave it to you to kick off this new gig with a bang.”

I rolled my eyes, but he was right. Throughout my career, I’d been known to have a flair for the dramatic. I was the one out there hyping up the crowd, mixing it up with the other team to provoke a reaction. And more than once, I’d caught myself in a sticky situation with a girl.

I guess old habits die hard.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 9

Maddox

After our run-in outside the executive floor bathroom, Bristol kept her distance. She was present for all press conferences but never asked any questions. I had to assume she was using my responses to her colleagues’ questions for her daily articles as training camp rolled on.

As much as I hated it, I had to respect that she wanted to set clear professional boundaries. Bristol was serious about her job, and I felt like an ass for suggesting otherwise.

But damn, if I didn’t make it a habit to scan her delectable body each time we crossed paths. A smile curved on my lips, noting she still kept her neck covered, holding the secret knowledge of my mark on her skin.

I still wanted her, but I knew she needed her job. You didn’t break down in the bathroom if you weren’t desperate to hold onto something. I only wished I knew why.

There was a heightened awareness when she was near. My skin buzzed with electricity beneath the surface, and my heart raced, only calming when she came into view.

I craved her presence. It was the damnedest thing. I’d never reacted to a woman like this before.

Of course, this had to happen with a woman I shouldn’t want—for so many reasons.

We worked together.

She was far too young—in my research, I’d uncovered that she was twenty-three, twelve years my junior.

She was still hung up on her ex, or at the very least, dealing with the emotional fallout he’d caused.

All signs told me to stay far, far away from Bristol Cooper, but my traitorous mind couldn’t stop thinking about her. And my body was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

By the last day of our first full week of training camp, I’d reached my breaking point.

Watching from the end of the hallway as she laughed it up with Braxton Slate, I saw red. Her hand came to rest on his bicep as they spoke, and he acted like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Braxton was a good kid. He was a great player and an exceptional leader. But what was it about the redheaded stunner that made him forget that he was also a devoted boyfriend? His girl, Dakota, was a sweetheart, and they were a perfect match. I’d had a front-row seat to their lovefest for over a year now as he assisted Jenner in getting me back onto my feet after the injury. So, why, all of a sudden, was he flirting with my girl?

Sleeping with her once doesn’t make her your girl, dipshit. By that logic, you’ve got a massive harem waiting for you.

Telling my conscience to fuck off, I stared at the interaction between Bristol and Braxton with my fists clenched, my teeth grinding so hard I was positive I would need dental work. As a former player, I was no stranger to the dentist’s chair. Out of habit, my tongue traced over the four teeth that weren’t real, but only I could tell.

The third time Bristol’s head dropped back in laughter, I snapped.

“Miss Cooper, a word?” My voice boomed, echoing against the concrete walls beneath the arena.

Braxton’s head turned in my direction first, and that little fucker smirked at me. I made a mental note to ride his ass hard the next time the team took the ice. A little reminder of who was in charge and that I was not to be fucked with.

When Bristol turned, her blue eyes narrowed. I didn’t give a shit that she was pissed; I was right there with her. Did she really think she could give me a spiel about needing this job and how sleeping with me could jeopardize her position, and then turn around and flirt with my players? Not on my watch.

Jealous prick.

Braxton gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder, urging her forward. It took every ounce of energy I possessed not to march down the hall and break that hand for touching her.

Heels clacked on the polished concrete floors as Bristol made her way to where I stood. Today, she was dressed in a navy blue sleeveless turtleneck sweater dress that clung to her form, shifting as she stepped closer. A thin gold chain acted as a belt, matching the gold bangles along her wrists. Before I could stop myself, I was picturing her naked, wearing only those bangles, and me finding a way to link them together so her wrists were bound as I pounded into her soft flesh.

Annoyance laced her tone when she stopped before me. “What can I do for you, Coach Sterling?”

God, my hands itched to spank her ass for being a little brat.

I made sure that my irritation was unmistakable when I spoke. “So, you’ll give him the time of day?” I tilted my head in Braxton’s direction. He was watching our interaction from where she’d left him.

Glancing over her shoulder briefly, Bristol turned back to me and rolled her eyes. Fingering the badge at her waist, she drew my attention to it. “You see this here? This means I’m with the press. And part of my job is talking to the players. Or have you been out of it so long that you’ve forgotten?”

She was goading me, and she knew it.

Mindful of our audience, I resisted the urge to pin her to the wall to show her who was really in charge.

“Yeah, that’s what it looked like. ‘Doing your job’.” Sarcasm dripped from every word. “Just so you know, he’s attached.”

An unladylike snort flew from her nose. “I’m well aware.”

That got my attention. “I didn’t realize in-depth knowledge of the players’ personal lives was part of your job description.”

Bristol glared at me, stepping closer like she might intimidate me. I would have thought it was cute if I wasn’t so damn aggravated.

“It’s not,” she replied.

“So, you admit it, then? That you’re interested in Braxton beyond the game?” I challenged.

“Jesus,” she huffed out. “Is this what it will be like every time I have a conversation with your players? If so, it’s going to get old fast.”

“It won’t be a problem so long as you remember your place,” I practically growled.

Both hands flew to her hips, and her voice turned lethal. “And what place is that, exactly? In your bed? Jealous, Coach?”

Fuck. She had me nailed, but I wasn’t willing to give her the satisfaction, even as my nostrils flared.

“That’s what I thought,” she taunted. “How about this? You do your job, and I do mine. Sound good?”

When I didn’t answer, she spun on her heel and sauntered away, throwing a little extra sway into her hips for effect.

God, if I ever got my hands on her again . . .

Keep dreaming, pal.

At the start of week two, the management team met to discuss the first round of cuts.

Some guys had been invited to training camp on a professional tryout to see if they meshed with our permanent roster and had the skills to compete. Others were on a two-way contract and could move between the Speed and our minor league affiliate in Cincinnati when we needed them.

Most of our up-and-coming talent had been on the Cincinnati roster last year and would be headed back there soon to continue developing.

I had been fortunate to spend a few years in college before earning a one-way contract, meaning I couldn’t be sent down to the minors. I couldn’t imagine how much of a mindfuck it was for some of these guys, especially the older ones still trying to break onto that bigger stage, to be sent back year after year.

Hockey was a mental game as much as it was a physical one. You could have all the skills in the world, but if you lacked confidence, it impacted your game. You couldn’t afford to second-guess your choices; you had to act on instinct and believe you had the ability to make every play successful.

That brought us to the player we’d been deliberating over for an hour—Sasha Gusev, or Goose, as the guys called him.

Sasha was a Russian-born, American-raised goalie who had played in Cincinnati for a few years. The Speed had drafted him in the third round, and he had gone the college route before signing his entry-level contract. Those three years were spent entirely with our minor league team. Over the summer, we’d signed him to a slightly larger contract as a restricted free agent, and after that one expired, he could explore his options with other teams.

At twenty-five, he was entering his prime, and I liked what I had seen from him during camp. Jared, along with his assistant GM, Randy Calvert, and the President of Hockey Operations, Paul Davenport, disagreed with my assessment that it was time to pull him up to the Speed.

“Maddox, I get that you like him and that he’s young and eager, but his stats are almost identical to Fox’s.” Jared referenced our current backup goalie, Zander Fox.

Randy chimed in. “It doesn’t make sense to replace a goalie who has experience playing the back-up role with a goalie who doesn’t. Especially when, on paper, they’re similar. It would be an even swap.”

I shook my head. “Screw the stats. I’ve been on the ice with Fox in net. He gets frustrated when he lets in a few goals, leading to more. Goose is different. Both from what I’ve seen this week in camp and from studying film of him playing for the Crawlers, he lets it roll off his back. It’s mildly unsettling how nothing bothers the guy, but it’s a hell of a temperament for a goaltender. He’s an asset to this team, even in a backup capacity.”

Jared sighed, starting to waver. “His contract is two million less on the salary cap than Fox’s . . .”

“Come on,” I begged. “Give him a chance. He’s got the makings of a great goalie. Just needs an opportunity to showcase his skills.”

Paul grumbled but agreed. “I think we have to listen to Maddox on this one. We brought him in to coach because he knew the players so well. Plus, that extra couple of million could snag us a decent fourth liner.”

Adrenaline surged in my veins. It wasn’t the same kind of battle as skating beside them on the ice, but I was fighting for my boys just the same.

Tapping his pen on the desk, Jared finally gave in. “Okay. Goose is in; Fox goes down to Cincinnati. Maddox, you let both men know and then make the announcement to the press the next time you speak with them.”

I wanted to fist pump the air but kept my cool. Damn, if that first victory didn’t feel good.

Nodding, I said, “I’ve got it handled.”

Jared closed his tablet and stood, as did the other men attending our small meeting. “Next week, after the first couple of preseason games, we’ll meet again to make the last round of cuts and finalize the roster for the season. Lots of work to do if we plan on making it back to the Finals.”

We all made noises of agreement, and the meeting was adjourned.

I couldn’t wait to see Goose’s face when I told him he was getting to stay in Indy. However, it would be up to him to keep his spot. If he faltered, I couldn’t stop management from switching him out with Fox.

I blew out a heavy breath.

Being the Speed’s captain was one thing. In that position, I wore many hats—welcome wagon, cheerleader, drinking buddy, emotional support. But at the end of the day, my primary focus was on strengthening my game.

As their coach, I had to worry about everyone’s game. And it was enough to keep me awake most nights.

I headed off to crush one man’s dreams while making another’s come true, quickly reminded that my new job wasn’t for the faint of heart.

My whistle was trapped between my teeth as I blew it at regular intervals, indicating for the next group of players to proceed through the drill. I should have been focused on my team, making mental notes about their play and cataloging what critiques I would share with them later. But instead, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Braxton making hand motions through the glass at a blushing Bristol in the stands.

When she waved back and playfully mouthed “stop,” I lost it.

Spitting out my whistle, knowing the attached lanyard would keep it around my neck, I screamed, “Slate! Over here now!”

Braxton spun around, eyes wide, but skated over without delay. Coming to a hard hockey stop before me, he asked, “What’s up, Coach?”

I tried to rein in my temper but lost that battle. “How about you spend more time focused on practice instead of flirting with the pretty reporter?” I snarled.

Confusion filtered across Braxton’s face for a split second before he burst out laughing. He was so loud that several of his teammates cast curious glances in our direction, but my stern glare had them turning away quickly.

Braxton sucked in huge gulps of air between bursts of laughter, gripping his side with the free hand not holding his hockey stick. “You think.” More laughter. “Me and Bristol?” He practically howled at the idea.

Every muscle in my body was coiled tight, ready to snap. “Care to enlighten me on what’s so hilarious?”

He calmed down just enough that I could see the mirth dancing in his eyes. “Bristol is Dakota’s best friend.”

I stared at him, stunned. Then the pieces fell into place, and the idea of it being a coincidence that Bristol and I both ended up at Pipes that night was shattered.

“She”—I let out a disbelieving huff—“she’s the friend?”

“Yup.” Braxton’s head bobbed up and down, a wide grin on his face.

I groaned. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Tilting his head, Braxton assessed me. “Why do you care so much about who Bristol flirts with? Not that what she and I were doing was flirting. She’s practically Dakota’s sister.”

“No reason.”

I was a shit liar, and Braxton’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute.” He shook his head. “No. You ghosted our invitation that night, right?” He paused. “But we left Bristol there.” His free fist clenched, and anger hardened his features before he screamed, “Fuck!” so loud it echoed across the ice.

This whole situation was quickly spiraling out of control.

“Keep your voice down,” I gritted out through a clenched jaw.

“No.” He poked me hard in the chest.

I hoped he would understand when I made him skate suicides later to set an example of his behavior. We’d been friends and teammates before I became his coach, but I would have to assert my authority or risk losing control over my bench.

“Do you have any fucking idea what that girl has been through? She’s been to hell and back, and you waltz in and put her career in jeopardy? And for what? To prove to yourself that you’ve still got it? Tell me, Maddox. How drunk was she when you took her home, huh? Because she’s got a history of blacking out to the point where Dakota used to affix a tracking tag to her clothing so she could locate her in the morning after partying too hard.”

Even though I felt like a total ass, I couldn’t bite back my retort. “Actually, she took me home.”

Braxton pressed his chest to mine, his eyes filled with murderous intent. “Leave. Her. Alone.”

I gave him a non-committal grunt because that was one promise I couldn’t make.

Raising my voice, I shouted so everyone on the ice could hear, “Slate! Give me ten suicides, then hit the showers!” Ten was a bit harsh, but you didn’t disrespect your coach. Ever.

Growling low beneath his breath, he skated away, lining up at the goal line. I stood along the bench with my arms crossed as he made a hard stop at the blue line before returning to the goal line, then to the red line and back, the opposite blue line and back, then finally, the opposite goal line and back.

“One!” I barked, calling out his first completed suicide.

The rest of the team got the message, returning to the drills they’d previously been running before my and Braxton’s argument.

I might have been one of them not that long ago, but I was in charge now. The sooner they learned that, the better.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 10

Bristol

“Are you excited to travel with the team for the first time?” Dakota’s face filled my phone screen perched on my nightstand as I packed my overnight bag. The Speed had played their first preseason game at home a few days ago and were now headed out on a quick trip to Pittsburgh to play their first away game of the preseason.

“I guess.” I shrugged, sniffing a pair of jeans to ensure they were fresh enough for casual wear later tonight when I went out with Alyssa. “We’re not going to be gone very long.”

“Worried about the plane ride?” she asked.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my hands not to shake. “Yes,” I admitted on a whisper.

“Do you think it would help if Braxton sat beside you?” she offered.

“No.” I opened my eyes, busying myself by placing travel-sized cosmetics into my bag. “He’s already gotten into enough trouble over me.”

I was still beyond pissed that Maddox singled him out during practice. Apparently, they’d gotten into it because Maddox thought Braxton was flirting with me, which in turn transformed him into a jealous caveman. That’s when Braxton figured out that the two of us had slept together and went all “protective older brother” and screamed at his coach. Of course, he’d been publicly punished, and I was beyond mortified.

So much for leaving the drama in the rear-view mirror when I left Hartford.

But I couldn’t think about that right now, when the elephant in the room was that I was less than two hours away from stepping onto an airplane for the first time in years. The last time hadn’t exactly been a positive experience.

Okay, that might be a mild downplay. I’d freaked out so bad they almost landed the plane because I was scaring the other passengers by screaming that we were all going to die—no big deal.

And of course my bestie, Dakota, had been riding shotgun and witnessed the whole debacle.

“I’ll be fine,” I assured her, unable to keep my voice from wavering.

“Bristol.” She sighed on the other end of the line, and I glanced at the phone screen to find her chewing her lower lip, obviously worried.

“I took this job knowing it required air travel multiple times a week. I’ll put on my big girl panties and deal with it. It’s mind over matter, right?”

She gave me a pointed look. “It’s your mind that’s the problem.”

I cringed. She had me there.

My fear of flying wasn’t completely irrational. I grew up slightly north of Hartford, close to the airport. When I was eight, there was a crash. Not an incidence of a plane sliding off the runway during icy conditions but a real “no survivors, only bits and pieces of the plane recognizable“ crash.

It was so close that we heard the boom when it hit the ground. It shook the house. For weeks on end, it was all over the news; it was all anyone in our community could talk about as they searched for answers as to why the plane had gone down so close to landing. About half the passengers were local to Hartford, and there were countless candlelight vigils. Every volunteer organization in the area was hard at work, cleaning up the debris and offering support to the victims’ families.

Needless to say, it was traumatic for a child, and it stuck with me.

Dakota must’ve seen the far-off look in my eye, reliving the events of the past, so she quietly offered, “Just remember there are thousands of flights every day. The number of people who die in fatal car accidents per day is higher than that of those who will perish in a fatal plane crash per year.”

I groaned. “Can we not say the words ‘plane crash’ when I’m about to get on one of those death traps? Please?”

“Let logic and statistics win out, Bristol. It’s your only hope of making it through this trip to Pittsburgh, not to mention the rest of the season.”

“You’re right.” I nodded. Grabbing her newest release, I held it up. “Maybe I’ll catch up on my reading.”

She smiled brightly. “That’s my girl. Distract yourself. You’ve got this.”

I’m glad one of us thinks so.

“All right. I gotta go, or I’m gonna be late.”

“Love you, babe. See you when you get back.” She blew me a kiss and ended the call.

Finally, without an audience, I took a deep breath, shaking my limbs as I blew it out. The old Bristol freaked out on planes, but I’d left her behind in Hartford. The new Bristol could handle this. She was strong and in control.

Here goes nothing.

Alyssa waved me over as soon as I passed through the makeshift security setup inside the hangar of the private airstrip the Speed used for their travel.

“I just love road trips,” she gushed. “Have you ever been to Pittsburgh before?”

I shook my head, twisting my hands as a nervous outlet. “No, but I’ve heard it’s really pretty. Three rivers converging downtown and lots of bridges, right?”

“Just you wait. The airport is on the right side of the city that you have to pass through a tunnel, and the city magically appears on the other side. It’s crazy and amazing. Like the city has its own little door.”

“That is cool,” I mused, my eyes shifting to the giant jet that would take us to the place she described.

“Since you’ve never been, we’ll have to take a trip up the incline to Mount Washington tonight. They have these overlooks where you can see the whole city from above.” Alyssa seemed very excited about our destination.

“Sure, sounds great.” I was checked out, trying to keep my panic tamped down.

“Oh!” she squealed, and I jumped with how tightly I was wound. “I forgot the best part!”

I was almost afraid to ask. “What’s the best part?”

She held her hands up dramatically. “They put fries on their salads and sandwiches.”

My nose wrinkled. “Fries?”

Alyssa’s head bobbed enthusiastically, and she let out a loud moan that drew attention from a few of the players near us in the hangar. “Oh, yeah. Sooooooo good.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I would have to take her word for it. Canadians loved poutine, so I suppose fries covered in dressing wasn’t the craziest thing in the world.

She linked her arm with mine. “Seat buddies?”

We were the only two women in the press pack, so I didn’t think twice. “Sure.”

“I can’t tell you how great it is to have another woman coming on the road,” Alyssa admitted before lowering her voice. “Most nights, they’re like a pack of hungry wolves, and it gets harder and harder every year to fend them off.” She nodded toward our male colleagues.

Concern for my new friend trumped my internal freakout over getting on a plane. “They’ve never tried anything with you, have they?”

She waved me off as we trekked across the tarmac toward the waiting jet. “Nah. A few of them have hit on me, but when I turned them down, that was the end of it. Can you imagine how messy it would get if I caved? Talk about a hostile work environment.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. Wouldn’t know a thing about that . . .

“Anyway”—she continued to chatter—“I’m just glad to have someone to hang out with. And it’ll be exciting to share all my favorite haunts in the cities we visit.”

That was one aspect of the job I was looking forward to. My hatred of air travel had been prohibitive. I hadn’t traveled much to this point. Sure, I grew up a stone’s throw from New York City and had taken the train there many times. Then there was that one spring break trip to Florida with Dakota where we’d had to drive home after I freaked out on the plane trip down. But I wanted to expand my horizons, discover new places. This was my chance to do so without breaking the bank. The Speed provided the plane while my publication paid for my hotel and food expenses. It was the perfect situation.

When we reached the giant rolling staircase leading to the open door of the large plane, Alyssa let go of my arm. She stepped ahead of me, saying something about finding a good seat for us away from the guy who snores. My hand gripped the railing, but my feet refused to move, and my knees trembled so badly that the shockwaves were enough to make my teeth chatter.

“Problem, Miss Cooper?” A voice I knew all too well taunted from behind me.

Of course. Because today isn’t hard enough.

Thankfully, my irritation with Maddox Sterling was enough to overrule my terror, and I gritted out, “No problem,” as I took the first step up the staircase.

Crossing the threshold into the jet, I clenched my fists until my fingernails dug into my palms. The pain provided a reminder that I was alive. I could do this.

Alyssa waved from her perch near the back, and I pushed past the filled seats until I reached her.

“Window or aisle?” She gestured to the empty row she’d secured for us. The plane had extra-wide seats, featuring only two on each side of the aisle.

That was a loaded question, and I wasn’t sure which was worse.

A window seat meant I could look out at the world below as we climbed high into the sky, but if the wing broke or an engine caught fire, I’d have a front-row seat to my nightmare coming to life. An aisle seat would mean blissful ignorance, but not knowing if the end was near would only serve to ratchet up my anxiety.

It was an impossible decision, but one I was required to make. I couldn’t very well stand in the aisle all day. I definitely needed a seatbelt to secure me to this death trap.

“Window, please.” It was the lesser of two evils. If necessary, I could always slide down the window shade.

Alyssa winked. “Perfect. I was hoping that would be your answer. The aisle is better for me. I hate asking someone to get up so I can use the restroom.”

All of the overhead compartments were open, so I threw my overnight bag above our row and slid into the window seat. Holding my travel tote in my lap, I pulled out my earbuds and Dakota’s newest book before sliding the bag beneath the seat in front of me.

Plopping down onto the seat beside me, Alyssa dug through her leather backpack for her own comfort items. Once she was settled, she looked over at me, and her eyes lit up when they landed on my book.

She held up an identical copy in her hands. “What are the odds?” she joked, knowing how close I was to Dakota.

Nervous laughter left my lips as the rest of the seats filled, and there was a loud thud, indicating the door was closed. We were sealed inside.

“How about that?” I gave her a weak smile.

Alyssa turned in her seat as I tried to tighten my seatbelt even more. It was digging into my hips, but I didn’t care. “So, tell me. Do you get to read any of her work early?”

“Not when she’s writing. She says it’s too distracting when I ask questions about what scenes are coming up next. Her process is that she doesn’t have one. She flies by the seat of her pants. Her characters are fully in charge and tell her where the story is going. Those are some of the best scenes where they take over.”

Completely entranced by my description of Dakota’s writing, her eyes widened. “Really,” she breathed out.

“I mean, it makes sense. It’s their story; shouldn’t they have a say in how it goes?”

“Huh. Never thought about it that way,” Alyssa mused.

“So, even though she doesn’t let me read it early, she always makes sure I have a copy on release day.” I flip open the front cover and show it to my new friend. “And it’s always signed.”

Alyssa leaned over to read the inscription. “That’s awesome. Do you think—do you think she would sign mine?”

“Of course. She loves connecting with readers.” I threw her a wink. “And I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you.”

“That would be incredible.” She gripped her copy tighter. “I’ve seen her around the rink after games, but I’ve always been too afraid to ask. I didn’t want to overstep the line of the players’ private lives.”

I waved my free hand. “She’s the best, seriously. Maybe we can all get together sometime after a game. Have you ever been to Pipes?”

Her jaw dropped. “You’ve been to Pipes?”

Why did she say that like it was strange that I had been? Was it because I was new?

“Uh, yeah.”

Alyssa huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Man, perks of being friends with a player’s girlfriend.”

My hackles raised. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just that”—she peeked around the cabin—“the press is kind of not allowed in there. Especially after games. It’s the players’ place.”

“Oh.” My stomach bottomed out. The last thing I needed was to give off the appearance of getting special treatment.

She placed a hand on my arm when she saw me deflate. “I’m sure if they invited you, it’s fine.”

“I would never abuse my relationship with Dakota and Braxton for a scoop,” I vowed. “That’s not how I want to get ahead.”

“Of course not.” Alyssa nodded sympathetically.

Great. First, I sleep with the head coach. And then I find out the only reason that became possible was because my best friend and her boyfriend took me to the one place that was off-limits to the press. It was a perfect storm, and I’d been caught right in the middle of it.

No wonder Maddox thought I had ulterior motives for taking him home that night.

The engines roared to life, and my breathing hitched. My book lay abandoned on my lap as both hands gripped the armrests as the plane rolled forward.

“Nervous flier?” Alyssa asked, eyeing my white-knuckled death grip.

“Something like that,” I muttered, willing my racing heart to settle.

She placed a warm hand over mine on our shared armrest. “Only downside to flying with the team is no booze. That usually helps take the edge off. But it’s a quick up and down to Pittsburgh. We’ll be there before you know it.”

“Uh-huh.” I could barely hear her over the buzzing in my ears.

A choked squeal left my lips as the plane lurched, speeding down the runway with the intention of taking off. Every muscle in my body locked as the front half of the plane tilted upward. I could tell we were half off the ground. That was, until there was a slight bob beneath my feet, and a quick peek out the window showed the buildings on the ground becoming smaller with each passing second. We were entirely in the air now.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

We passed through clouds, rising above them, and that’s when I lost it. We were too high. All I could see in my mind’s eye were those images of the wreckage that played on a loop on TV when I was a child—the shattered fragments of what had once been people and a jet larger than this one, along with the hole in the ground where the impact had happened.

My hands flew to my throat as I tried to draw in air, but my lungs never filled, burning with the need for oxygen. I clawed at the skin in my desperation. My mind battled between the need to stand up, to find a way to get off before it was too late, and the paralyzing fear that unbuckling my seatbelt would mean certain death.

There was no winning scenario. I was going to die on this plane.

That was the last thought I had before I lost my vision, the panic pulling me under.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 11

Maddox

Noise-canceling headphones were a must for anyone who traveled as much as I had over the past fifteen years. The trip to Pittsburgh was short, a little over a full hour in the air, so it provided just enough time to catch up on an episode of my favorite hockey podcast. The two guys who had started it were former players, and there were no-holds-barred. They shared their honest opinion about the league, the teams within it—as well as their management staffs—and often had featured guests who were current or past players. Not to mention, they had put out their own hockey-branded pink lemonade vodka that was fucking amazing.

I’d started the episode the minute I sat down on the plane, so I was halfway through it not long after our ascent. A hand on my shoulder had me pausing and slipping my headphones off before turning to see who needed my attention.

Wyatt Banks, one of our starting defensemen, stared down at me with crease lines marring his forehead, his lips turned down in a frown. “Coach, we have a problem.”

I stood, instantly on high alert. “What is it?”

He tilted his head toward the back of the plane, where almost everyone in that section was standing, huddled around a particular row. The hairs on the back of my neck rose when I didn’t notice a flash of red among their ranks.

“The new girl—“

Before he could finish that sentence, my feet were moving down the aisle toward the crowd. Shoving some male reporters out of the way, I pushed to the front, desperate to get to Bristol.

In the center of it all, I found the girl I couldn’t stop thinking about gasping for air, her eyes unfocused as her fingernails drew blood along her slender throat. Alyssa Simon sat beside her, digging through what I could only assume was Bristol’s bag, searching for something.

“Alyssa, I need you to move,” I commanded, and her blue eyes flashed to me.

She shook her head before returning to her quest. “I think she’s having an allergic reaction. If I can only find her epinephrine autoinjector . . .”

I knew Bristol wasn’t having an allergic reaction. She was deep in the middle of a panic attack, and if we didn’t get a handle on it soon, she was going to pass out.

“Now,” I barked, causing Alyssa to jump in her seat.

She stood on shaky legs, reluctant to leave Bristol’s side, but allowed me to take her place.

“Everyone else, clear the area! Find new seats at the front of the plane.” My tone left no room for argument, and the press pack scattered, leaving me alone with the panic-stricken woman to my left.

The first thing I did was try to pry her hands away from where she was hurting herself, but she was so far gone that I couldn’t overpower her. Her chest was concave, like she was holding her breath, which, technically, she was. Those once-perfectly pink lips took on a bluish tint, and my heart twisted inside my chest, making it hard for me to breathe—if she wasn’t breathing, I couldn’t either.

“Miss Cooper.” Speaking to her was a futile attempt; she needed something more. Trying again, I cupped her cheeks, bringing my face closer to hers. “Bristol, I need you to take a deep breath.”

She shook her head, and a tiny squeak sounded.

“I know it’s hard, love, but you have to. Please,” I begged because that’s all I had left in the arsenal. It was killing me to see her like this.

Caressing one cheek softly with my thumb, I placed my other hand over her racing heart. I decided to attempt a new tactic. “Come on, Bristol, I know you hate me; push my hand away. You can do it.”

Almost as if she’d been shocked, her chest expanded beneath my palm, and her sharp inhale was music to my ears.

“That’s it,” I coached. “Just like that. Now, slow it down. In for three, then out for three.”

As she slowly regulated her breathing, her hands ceased their self-destructive movements, and her eyes regained clarity, focusing on my face.

“There she is,” I said softly.

The last thing I expected was for her to launch into my arms, but I held on tight, grateful for any excuse to touch her again. Bristol’s body lurched against me in a ragged rhythm as wetness seeped through my dress shirt. Soothingly, I ran my hands through her hair left down today, curling softly down her back.

“You’re okay,” I whispered soothingly.

She shook her head against my chest, her words muffled. “We’re gonna die.”

“What?” I pulled back to view her tear-streaked face. “Why would you think that?”

Bristol couldn’t get a full sentence out without hiccupping. “Be-because p-planes cra-ash.”

Jesus, she was terrified of flying to the point of a massive panic attack and had taken a job that required she get on a plane multiple times a week?

An image of boarding less than an hour ago flashed in my mind, where she’d paused at the bottom of the staircase. My arrogant ass had goaded her when she’d been battling her inner demons. Fuck. I’d probably made it worse.

“Would it help if I told you I’ve taken hundreds of flights, and never once has there been an issue?”

Her beautiful eyes filled with more tears, and she shook her head. “It only takes once.”

She had a point there, but what were the odds of being in a plane crash? Like one in a million? It wasn’t worth arguing with her over facts, as fears weren’t rational.

My eyes slid to her neck. The streaks of crimson were concerning as they layered over one another. How sharp were her nails? That probably wasn’t as important as the amount of pressure she had used in clawing at the delicate flesh in an attempt to breathe.

“I need to get a first aid kit from the flight attendants. You’re bleeding.”

I moved to stand, but she clutched me tighter, screaming, “Don’t leave me!”

What promised to be a short, uneventful flight had turned out to be anything but.

“Okay. I’m not going anywhere,” I promised. “But the minute we land, you have to let me or the team doc tend to your neck.”

Easing her slowly back into her seat, I noticed how tightly she was strapped in. How was she going to survive an entire season like this? I would place bets that she wouldn’t. Honestly, I’d be surprised if she voluntarily got on the return plane to Indy tomorrow night after the game.

Her tiny hand clutched at mine, and I continuously ran my thumb over her knuckles. “Is this okay?” I asked.

Bristol nodded, her eyes sliding closed as her throat bobbed. “Yeah, keep doing that. It helps.”

“Good. I’m glad.” My heart rate finally began to settle as she relaxed. “So, Bristol from Connecticut . . .”

One of her eyes popped open. “What are you doing?”

I shrugged. “Small talk is Option 1 in keeping you distracted for the remainder of the flight.”

“What’s Option 2?”

Boy, I was so glad she asked.

Unable to keep the smirk from my face, I replied, “Option 2 is that I haul your ass to the bathroom in the back, and we join the Mile High Club. Has proven to be effective in the past when you wanted to get your mind off an unsavory topic.”

She groaned, that one eye closing again. “Oh my God, I hate you.”

“I know. It’s what I used to get through to you when nothing else worked.”

Curiously, she peeked at me from beneath her lashes. “What do you mean?”

The hand not holding hers reached across my body to trace a pattern over her sternum. “I put my hand right here and dared you to push me away with a deep breath.”

Her lips parted in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid I am. So, what’ll it be? Option 1 or Option 2? Although, I must warn you, should you choose Option 2, there won’t be much time for foreplay as it’s a short flight.” I leaned in close, dropping my voice. “And you know how much I love foreplay.”

Bristol rolled those pretty blue eyes before grumbling, “Option 1.”

“Not what I would have chosen, but I can make it work,” I teased.

“How did you know I was from Connecticut?” I simply raised an eyebrow, and she figured out the answer. “Of course. Braxton gave me up.”

“Not willingly,” I admitted. “He’s not my biggest fan at the moment.”

“Can’t say I blame him after the little pissing contest you got into with him during practice. Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Coach Sterling.”

I groaned. “After all we’ve been through, I’m back in the ‘Coach’ zone?”

She leveled me with a glare. “So long as you call me Miss Cooper, you’re Coach Sterling.”

“That’s not exactly fair,” I protested. “Everyone in the press pack calls me Coach Sterling.”

“You just made my point for me. You maintain a formal title, but you address all of them by their first names. Except me. How long do you think that will go unnoticed?” Bristol challenged.

She had me there. “Fine. Bristol it is. But when it’s only the two of us, I fully expect the name Maddox to be rolling off your lips.”

Looking skyward, she let out a huff. “Yeah, okay. Because there will be so many times we’re alone together.”

“Say the word, and it can be arranged.” I waggled my eyebrows.

“No, thanks. I’m all set.” Her words were clipped, betraying her annoyance.

Shifting my weight, I turned in my seat so I could rub my nose along the length of her jaw. The shiver that stole down her body told me everything I needed to know. She still wanted me just as much as I wanted her.

Bringing my lips to her ear, I asked, “Are you telling me one night was enough for you? Because—confession—it wasn’t for me.”

A stuttered breath flew past her lips, and she shook her head. “We can’t. I can’t.”

I frowned. The emphasis on herself gave me pause. There was something more going on here, but I knew if I pressed too hard, she’d shut down. I had to play this smart, gradually get her to open up to me. Barring her resignation at the end of this short road trip, we had tons of time.

Sitting back, I gave her space, returning to the aforementioned small talk. The mention of her given name, combined with where she hailed from, gave me pause. “Wait. Isn’t Bristol the city in Connecticut that houses the headquarters of the largest sports broadcasting network?”

Bristol groaned. “Yeah. My mom had to put her foot down when my dad wanted to name his only daughter the four-letter moniker of said network. I guess they went round and round over it until she agreed to the name of the city it was located in instead.”

I barked out a laugh. Never let it be said that sports fans weren’t crazy.

“Glad you’re amused.” Bristol rolled her eyes.

“Sorry.” I ran a hand over my face to calm my expression. “But that’s hilarious. Guess you were destined to go into sports media, huh?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I take it your dad’s a sports nut?”

“Comets season ticket holder, actually.” She smirked, knowing it would provoke a reaction.

“Ouch.” I winced, throwing my free hand over my heart as if I were wounded.

“You can take the girl out of Hartford, but you can’t take the Comets fan out of the girl.”

The tiniest hint of her playful side was peeking out, and I was determined to see it in its full glory.

“So, Miss Die-Hard Comets Fan, what brings you to Indy to report on the enemy?” It was no secret there was no love lost between the Comets and the Speed.

Expecting her to give me a little bit of sass, I was shocked when she drew in on herself, even going so far as to pull her hand from mine where they’d rested intertwined on the armrest. Eyes downcast, her breathing grew shallow as she toyed with the bracelet on her wrist.

What the hell did I say? It had seemed innocent enough in my mind.

Bristol’s lip trembled, and a lone tear slid down her cheek. It was like a knife to my heart, knowing I’d done something to cause her pain.

Reacting instinctually, I cradled her face in my hands, swiping at the moisture with my thumbs, but it was quickly replaced with more.

“Fuck, Bristol. I’m sorry. I was just teasing. Forget I said anything. I’m glad you came to work covering the Speed.” I squeezed my own eyes shut before admitting, “If you hadn’t come into my life, I’d still be walking around in a daze.”

More tears fell, but her lashes fluttered as her eyes opened to reveal heartbreaking sadness in their depths. After a thick swallow, she said, “I was running away.”

“Running away,” I repeated. “From what?”

There was an imperceptible shake of her head in my hands. “Not a what. A who.”

Dread churned in my gut, and my voice turned lethal. “Did someone hurt you?”

One of her shoulders lifted. “In a way.”

“Who?” I demanded.

She turned her head away from me as she said, “My ex, Nix.”

What kind of stupid-ass name is Nix? Sounds like a frat boy nickname.

“The cheater,” I breathed out.

“Yeah,” Bristol confirmed on an exhale.

Odds were that I would never run into the little shit, but I wanted to strangle him. I hated that she was still hurting from whatever he did to her.

“I was smart enough to invest money from my playing days. If you want me to put out a hit on him, I could probably swing it financially.”

That had a slight smile curving on her lips, but her voice was still defeated. “He’s not worth it.”

“But it was bad enough for you to move halfway across the country to get away from him? To leave everything you’ve ever known behind?” I pressed.

“I have Dakota and Braxton,” she countered.

“Is that really enough?”

“It has to be.”

I wanted to tell her she had me too, but I knew she wasn’t ready to hear it. Whoever this Nix guy was had done a number on her.

Recapturing her hand, I pulled it between both of mine. When she turned to me, I poured every ounce of compassion I had into my gaze. I needed her to know I cared. That I was more than just a guy who she’d taken home one night and had explosive sex with.

Pulling her hand to my mouth, I brushed my lips over it. “Talk to me, Bristol. Help me understand.”

Her beautiful blue eyes tracked the movement of my lips as I peppered feather-light kisses across her knuckles. After what seemed like an eternity, she spoke. “He used me. And I agreed to it.”

My brows drew down. “What do you mean, you agreed to it?”

A soft sniffle sounded in the air between us, and her voice grew whisper-quiet. “He didn’t want to be exclusive. And I was so besotted with him that I let him fool around with other women. I thought”—she blew out a heavy breath—“I thought that if I showed him that I was devoted, that I wasn’t sleeping around, that eventually he’d see I was the girl for him and drop the rest of them.”

“But that didn’t happen, did it?”

“No.” Bristol shook her head. “Worse than that, after three years of letting him make a public fool of me, I asked for more. Told him how much I loved him and that I wanted it to be just us going forward.” She scoffed. “I bet you can figure out how well that went over.”

My blood boiled. Here I was, sitting beside this beautiful young woman, praying she would give me another shot, and some dickwad back in Connecticut had cast her aside because he thought he could do better?

As a man who’d sampled her incredible pussy and had had the opportunity to worship her body, I was craving another hit. I’d enjoyed my share of women, but Bristol came in at the top. Beyond that, she was smart and funny and sassy. And her love of hockey was a major plus. She was the total package.

But she didn’t trust me because the little fucker who broke her heart also happened to lace up skates. She assumed that because I was a former player, I was as bad as her ex, that I was a womanizer.

Yes, I knew it looked bad that I was still a bachelor at thirty-five, and that I’d never had a serious relationship to this point in my life. But maybe I was just waiting for the right girl to blow into my life like a hurricane and knock me onto my ass.

There was no doubt in my mind that girl was Bristol.

She made me feel alive that night at Pipes in a way I never had before.

Fuck the age difference and that a relationship between us would be breaking some unwritten rule about fraternizing with the press. I had a feeling she needed someone to treat her like the queen she was, as much as I needed someone to ground me. We could be good for each other.

Before I could say anything more, the seatbelt light turned on, accompanied by the signature ding.

Bristol jolted in her seat, her eyes flying wide in panic. “What was that?” Her gaze darted around the cabin. She gave off an appearance like that of a spooked horse.

“Hey, it’s okay. They’re only making sure everyone has their seatbelts on because we’ll be landing soon.”

“We are?”

“Yep.” I nodded, pressing another kiss to her hand. “You made it.”

She huffed. “My feet aren’t on solid ground yet. Most accidents happen during takeoff and landing.”

I fought the urge to smile. “Well, at least if this is the end, I’m glad I get to spend it with you.”

“Lucky me,” she grumbled.

No, I was the lucky one. How she’d fallen right into my lap was something I would never question. All that mattered was that she had.

Bristol Cooper might just be the thing that could replace the giant hole that losing my playing career had left in my soul.

The second we touched down in Pittsburgh, I ushered Bristol off the plane before anyone else had a chance to disembark. Dr. Sanders, the team physician, followed us out when I motioned for him over my shoulder on my way up the aisle.

Thankfully, the weather was still nice in late September, and I didn’t mind the short walk past the team bus—parked at the bottom of the rolling staircase—into the private airstrip lobby. The sliding glass doors opened, and one of the attendants behind the reception desk’s eyes widened at the blood coating Bristol’s throat.

“A first-aid kit would be appreciated,” I called to her, and she sprang into action as I eased Bristol into a cushioned chair.

“You’re making too big of a deal out of this,” Bristol protested.

“I’m really not,” I countered. To prove my point, I pulled my cell out of my pocket and turned on the camera feature before handing it to her. She got one look at the damage she’d done to her neck and winced, passing back the phone.

Dr. Sanders entered the lobby as the attendant placed a first-aid kit into my hands. “Injury or illness?” he asked.

I held up the kit, tilting my head toward Bristol. “Most definitely injury. Self-inflicted.”

Dr. Sanders’s eyes widened when he caught sight of the marks lining her delicate skin, remarking, “Seems you’ve done a number on yourself, Miss—“

“Cooper,” I supplied, earning a glare from the woman in question.

“Well . . .” Dr. Sanders pulled a pair of latex gloves from his satchel. “First things first. We need to get these cuts cleaned to prevent any risk of infection.”

Bristol sighed. “Do what you need to do. I’ve held up the team enough and don’t wish to cause further delay.”

As she allowed the doctor to tend to her wounds, the sliding glass doors opened, and the unmistakable sound of heels clicking on polished flooring reached my ears. Glancing up, I saw Alyssa rush into the lobby, carrying Bristol’s travel tote. She hurried to her friend’s side, sitting on the coffee table opposite Bristol’s chair.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concern evident in her tone. I could only imagine how terrifying it had been for her to be sitting beside someone who panicked so badly that they stopped breathing and inflicted bodily harm on themselves.

Bristol hissed as Dr. Sanders used an alcohol wipe along her many lacerations. “Yeah. I’m better now. Guess I should have mentioned I have a serious fear of flying.”

Alyssa reached out a hand, which Bristol grasped. “No biggie. I thought you were having an allergic reaction.”

“Nope, all up here.” She tapped her temple.

A rapid succession of dings came from the bag at Alyssa’s side. She pushed blonde hair away from her face and reached inside, pulling out a cell phone. “This has been going off pretty much ever since we landed.”

Lips twisting as she eyed the phone, Bristol mused, “My money’s on Dakota.”

Feeling helpless, I offered, “You want me to handle it?”

Her blue eyes shifted in my direction, and she nibbled on the corner of her lower lip. “Could you? I’m sure Braxton spilled the beans, and she’s worried. My head’s not in the right place to deal with her right now.”

Alyssa’s brows knitted as her head turned on a swivel to look between me and Bristol. She was figuring out there was something more between us, but I couldn’t worry about that now.

Plucking the phone from her hand, I saw multiple text notifications with Dakota’s name attached to them on the lock screen.

“I’m gonna head out to the bus,” Alyssa said to Bristol. “I’ll save you a seat.”

Bristol nodded, and then we were left alone. Well, as alone as we could be in a lobby with a doctor cleaning and bandaging her neck.

Bending down, I brought the screen to Bristol’s face to unlock facial recognition. In an attempt to lighten the mood, I teased, “If you’re hiding a secret love child, now would be a great time to come clean. I’m about to have unrestricted access to your phone.”

A shudder rolled through her slight frame. “Are you trying to give me nightmares?”

Interesting. Was she not a fan of kids? Or perhaps the idea of having one with her ex was what terrified her? Those were questions for another day. We had more pressing matters to attend to—namely, a best friend in Indy who likely wanted answers.

With the phone unlocked, I pulled up the messages:

Dakota: Braxton said there was an incident on the plane, and you were involved.

Dakota: He said there was blood! What the hell happened?

Dakota: Are you okay? Why aren’t you answering your phone?

Dakota: I’m grabbing my keys. If I don’t hear from you in the next five minutes, I’m getting in the car and driving to Pittsburgh tonight. It’s almost a straight shot across I-70. I can be there before midnight.

Well, if all Bristol had in Indy were Dakota and Braxton, at least they cared deeply about her.

“She’s freaking out,” I announced. “Says if you don’t contact her in the next five minutes, she’s driving out here.” I checked the time stamp on that last message. “And that was four minutes ago.”

Bristol groaned. “Can you please tell her that I’m fine?”

“Sure thing.”

Pulling up Dakota’s contact information on the phone, I decided that instead of sending a message, I would call her directly.

It rang exactly once before Dakota’s sweet yet panicked voice came across the line. “Bristol, oh my God! What happened? Was it like spring break?”

My eyes shifted to Bristol, and a corner of my lips twitched. “Not Bristol, but please, let’s circle back to spring break. Were there tiny bikinis involved?”

There was an audible rush of air in my ear. “Maddox. Please tell me she’s okay.”

“She’s fine,” I confirmed. “A little worse for wear, but she’ll be all right.”

“What does that mean? Is she hurt?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “She clawed the shit out of her throat, trying to breathe in the middle of her panic attack. That was the blood Braxton must have seen.”

“Jesus. And I thought it was bad when we flew to Florida, and they almost had to make an emergency landing for her.”

Ah. Spring break. It made sense now.

“Can I talk to her, please? Just to know she’s okay?” There was a desperation in Dakota’s voice.

I pulled the phone away from my face, addressing Bristol. “She wants to talk to you.”

Dr. Sanders had just finished placing the last of the bandages. He squeezed gently on Bristol’s shoulder. “Make sure to keep them clean and dry. There will be a pharmacy down the block from our hotel. I suggest picking up a tube of antibiotic ointment. Should help minimize any chance of scarring.”

Bristol ducked her head. “Thanks. I’ll make sure to do that.”

He stood up straight before removing his gloves. “I’ll see you on the bus, you two.”

“Thanks, Doc.” I moved out of his way so he could leave the building.

As soon as he was gone, I held the phone in Bristol’s direction. “Do you want to talk to her? Or should I tell her you’ll call her later?”

Resigned, Bristol raised her palm, curling her fingers in a gimme motion. Our fingers brushed as I transferred the phone into her grasp, and I felt the connection travel up my arm, settling over my heart. I knew then that I couldn’t walk away from this girl if I tried. There was something deeper to be discovered between us, and I was curious to find out what that was.

Bristol placed the phone to her ear. “Hey, babe. I’m fine.”

She sighed while listening to whatever her best friend had to say on the other end of the line.

“Yeah.” Her baby blues shifted to peer up at me. “Actually, Maddox was able to settle me.”

I congratulated myself on the small victory of hearing her say my name, but it was short-lived when I saw the defeated expression on her face.

“No. You don’t need to come out here. I’ll be home tomorrow night.” She nodded. “I’ll figure it out. I have to.” There was no doubt she was trying to quell Dakota’s concerns about how she would complete the season with all the air travel required by the team and the press. “Okay. Love you too. Bye.”

Bristol’s lungs filled with a deep breath, which she held in for a moment before slowly releasing as her eyes slid closed.

I sat on the coffee table as Alyssa had done not long ago, pulling her hands into mine. That shocked her enough that her eyes sprang open before they narrowed in distrust. Hadn’t I shown she could count on me back on the plane? I guess I would have to keep showing up, proving my worth, until she believed I wasn’t going to let her down.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“Have you ever tried something aimed at taking the edge off? You’re not the first nervous flyer to ever take to the skies.”

Bristol pulled her hands away, and I mourned the loss of her touch. “Simple anxiety meds aren’t enough. They don’t touch my extreme level of panic. A stronger sedative would have left me incapacitated on such a short flight. It would seem I’m caught between a rock and a hard place as most of our travel is two hours or less in the air.”

She was right. Even on our West Coast trips, the longest leg was the first and last, but we usually hunkered down, hitting multiple teams that were close together before returning home.

“Did talking to me—letting me distract you with conversation—and having a hand to hold help?”

Pink spread from beneath her bandages and onto her cheeks. “Yeah.”

I threw my arms wide. “Then I’m happy to offer my services when we travel.”

She let out a puff of air in exasperation. “I can’t ask you to do that. Besides, what would everyone think?”

“Fuck everyone else.” She gave me a disapproving glare. “I’m serious. Is sitting beside me and having an innocent conversation more embarrassing than having a large crowd watch you inflict bodily harm on yourself as you struggle to achieve the most basic human function of breathing?”

Dropping her head into her hands, Bristol’s response was muffled. “No.”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll be my new seat partner for as long as you remain with the team.”

Opening her fingers, she peeked at me from between them. “What if I last longer than you do?”

Not gonna lie. That one stung. But it wasn’t totally unjustified.

I was new at my job, and coaches were replaced all the time, sometimes mid-season. I knew if I didn’t prove myself to management, I could be out on my ass. I was learning on the fly with no previous experience, and I prayed there was a little bit of grace given. If not, I wasn’t sure what I’d do. This job was a lifeline to stay close to the players I viewed as brothers, to ease the emptiness in my life with my livelihood suddenly ripped away.

“We’ll cross that bridge if, or when, we get to it.” It was the only response I could give. Neither of us had a crystal ball that could tell us how long I would hold my position.

Standing, I offered her my hand, and she took it, allowing me to pull her from her seat.

“Just on the plane, though,” she clarified. When I hesitated to respond, I caught a flash of fire in her eyes. “Or I could ask Braxton. I’m sure he’d be more than willing to offer up his conversational services if I told him I needed him.“ Those last few words were said on a breathy sigh.

Lightning-quick, I gripped her upper arm, hauling her to my chest as a growl sounded from deep in my chest. “Don’t toy with me, love,” I warned.

Even though her breathing quickened with how closely our bodies were pressed, and her fingers dug into my shoulders, she maintained the defiant façade. “Or else, what?”

I dipped my head, placing my mouth a breath away from her ear. “Hope you’re stocked up on turtlenecks because as soon as you’re healed, I’ll take over marking that pretty neck of yours myself. And that’s not a threat. You know I’m good for it.”

That was enough to break the trance I held over her, and she shoved at my chest with both hands, putting space between us.

Stepping to the side, she hefted her travel bag onto her shoulder. “Have you forgotten so quickly I’ve already been down this path before? I know how players operate, heard more lines designed to get women into bed than you could ever dream of. The only reason the two of us hooked up was because I was looking for something different. I’m done beating my head against a wall, trying the same thing over and over, and expecting it to turn out differently. I’m done. Thank you for your offer for the plane, but upon further consideration, I will have to pass.”

With that, she stormed off through the doors and across the concrete tarmac to where the team bus sat waiting.

Stunned, I watched her walk away. Was she really saying that if I were an Average Joe and had said the same thing, it would have been acceptable, even well-received? But because I was a former player, I carried some black mark of boyfriends past, and she wanted nothing to do with me?

She wasn’t making this easy, but she underestimated me. I wasn’t a quitter, nor was I one of those douchebags she’d dated in the past.

Blowing out a breath, I followed at a safe distance until she disappeared inside the bus. Stepping up the short staircase and past the driver, I found Jenner near the front, with an open seat beside him. After ensuring Bristol had found a seat with Alyssa, I dropped onto it with a sigh.

Jenner wasted no time in busting my balls. “You are so fucked, man.”

I ran a hand down my face, rubbing my palm across the stubble gathered along my jaw. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

This whole thing couldn’t have come at a worse time or with a more complicated person, but I was in too deep now. There was no turning back.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 12

Maddox

Bristol made good on her promise to ask Braxton to sit beside her on the flight back to Indy, and I hated him for it. It was irrational. I knew that. He had a girlfriend he loved and was simply doing her best friend a solid, helping to ease her anxiety over flying. But in my head, she was already mine, even if she hadn’t accepted it yet.

What kind of sick fuck did it make me that I almost wished he hadn’t been enough to keep her calm? That she needed me instead to soothe her?

I was losing my goddamn mind—a mind where Bristol sat front and center.

I needed to get a grip. My focus was required on leading the Speed as their new head coach. The final cuts to the team had been made, and it was time to get a start on the season.

First up was our home opener against the Vancouver Orcas.

The stage was set, the crowd was amped up and ready, but of course, I was being tested already.

During warmups, our star goalie, Mitch Gunn, pulled his groin and wouldn’t be able to play. The temperature gauge on my trial by fire jumped up a notch as my choice of backup, Sasha Gusev, would take his place, starting in his first game as a rookie. If he buckled under the pressure, I would look like a total ass to management, and my judgment would come into question.

The sharp stab of grief lodged in my heart when I entered the locker room, where the players were preparing to take the ice for the game. I would have sold my soul for one more game—to feel the ice carving beneath the blades of my skates, to cradle the puck on my stick for just a second before shooting it toward the net or passing it to a teammate.

Hockey had been the constant my entire life.

When my parents’ marriage fell apart, I had hockey.

When my grandpa passed away, I had hockey.

When I moved away to play juniors, thousands of miles from home, I had hockey.

My teammates were my family. I kept in touch with guys I’d played with at every level—from youth hockey to juniors to college to pros. We had an unbreakable bond. It didn’t matter if we played together for one year or ten. We shared memories—triumphs and heartbreak—and nothing could take that away.

Maybe that’s why it was so hard shifting to this new position. Because I hadn’t moved on to a new team or level, gaining new teammates. This time, I was on the outside looking in.

The players started their day with a pregame practice before going home to rest and refuel. They returned a few hours before puck drop to warm up their bodies and prepare their equipment before fans were allowed entry into the arena.

Now that I was the head coach, my game day routine was different. I hadn’t left the building since my arrival this morning. After practice, I’d holed up in my office, going over last-minute game film of the Orcas—from this preseason and last season.

As the home team, we had the advantage of the last change. That meant when the Orcas sent out their lines, we would have an opportunity to choose which players we wanted to put against them. There was a strategic element to hockey, and personnel choices on the ice made a huge impact. Choices like sending out your strongest line versus their weakest before an offensive zone face-off gave you a higher chance of scoring, or putting your grittiest line against their top guys in the defensive zone minimized the potential for a goal against.

This was my job now. Analyzing every tiny detail of not only our game but that of our opponents and sharing that information with my players. Would I much rather have spent my day napping and working out with the guys? Hell yeah. But that was no longer an option, and I was forced to play the hand I’d been dealt.

The players sitting at their assigned stalls were in various states of undress. Some guys liked to remove their upper gear during rest periods while others unlaced their skates. Anyone who had spent time in a youth locker room would think it was nuts that they could suit up again in less than five minutes, but it was automatic for these guys, practically muscle memory after doing it multiple times a day their entire lives.

I stepped into the center of the locker room and cleared my throat loudly to be heard over the raucous chatter between teammates. Slowly, they quieted, and I took a cleansing breath before preparing my men to go to battle for the first time this season.

With all eyes on me, I said, “Someone toss me a roll of clear tape.”

“Heads up, Coach!” Jenner yelled as he chucked the tape at me.

Catching it easily before bringing the roll to my nose, I inhaled deeply. The scent of plastic and adhesive was nostalgic, reminding me of the game and all my years spent playing it.

Lowering my hand, I addressed the team. “I may not be out there with you on the ice, but I’ve always got your back. I’m one of you. Not only a former player but a proud member of the Indianapolis Speed.” The guys all cheered. “My heart lies with this team, just as it does with each of you. You’re my brothers. You always will be, even if I’m the one barking up your ass to skate harder or benching you after making one too many bad decisions. Know that it’s because I care about your growth as a player and the success of the team as a whole. Hockey is the ultimate team sport, and if you don’t know that by now, a coach has failed you along the way. There’s no room for selfish play; we work together, or we don’t win. It’s as simple as that.

“Forget about the past. We can’t change it, can’t rewrite it. So, looking backward is pointless. Today, we start fresh with a new season where anything is possible. We get to write the narrative going forward. But nothing worth having is ever easy. It’s going to take dedication every single day in practice, in the gym, and at home with your nutrition choices. I know every man in this room has what it takes to become a champion, but you don’t get there by taking shortcuts. It’s gonna be a grind, and the road to victory begins tonight. We take each game as it comes, put one skate in front of the other, and never lose sight of the goal.”

I paused, pulling a piece of paper from the inside pocket of my suit jacket. “Here is tonight’s starting lineup. At center, Braxton Slate.” The boys gave their standard clap but added a little extra cheer. Braxton had worked his way from winger to center in my absence and had really grown into the role of leading a line. It didn’t matter that I was pissed at him at the moment; I wouldn’t let personal feelings interfere with coaching decisions. As I’d told the team, hockey had no room for selfishness, and I practiced as I preached.

“At right wing, Captain Jenner Knight.” An even louder cheer split the air of the room after their synchronized clap.

“At left wing, Asher Lawson.” Clap.

“At right D, Wyatt Banks.” Clap.

“At left D, Saint Booker.” Clap.

“In net, for his rookie debut, Sasha Gusev.”

Instead of a clap for our starting goaltender, the room called out, “Gooooooooose.”

I bit back a smile as the young goalie ducked his head. He was getting his chance. He’d earned it, and I only prayed he made the most of the opportunity I’d fought so hard to give him.

“Get ready for that rookie lap, Goose. The home crowd is waiting for you. Everyone else, execute your matchups, stay out of the box, and make every shift count.” With that, I turned on my heel and left the room with the rest of the coaches and training staff.

Tonight’s game might be the start of a new season for the boys, but for me, it marked a new chapter in my life. Like Goose, my performance would be carefully monitored under a microscope, looking for flaws, and it was up to me to keep my spot.

It was time to find out if I had what it takes.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I screamed at the closest ref to the bench.

We had taken the lead on Vancouver early, and once they were down by a few goals, they started to play dirty. Instead of playing for the puck, they were going out of their way to make hits—dangerous ones up high near my players’ heads.

The first few attempts were near misses; my guys recognized what was happening and spent their focus on avoiding an injury. But eventually, Asher took a hit that knocked him down and stopped play. He skated off on his own power but was immediately sent down the tunnel, entering concussion protocol.

The Speed—not to mention the league—was very careful with head injuries. With the discovery of CTE and its debilitating effects on athletes who’d had their bell rung a few too many times, there was a hard line drawn over prioritizing players’ health and safety. No victory was more valuable than a human life.

After Asher left the ice, I gave the ref an earful when there was no call for the head contact. He gave me some bullshit response about how my players needed to keep their heads up, implying that Asher could have avoided the hit if he was looking where he was going. I knew that wasn’t what happened, especially when the bench had tablets to analyze the game in real time. It was dirty to anyone with eyes, but there wasn’t much I could do if the ref was willing to look the other way.

It didn’t matter that we had the ability to choose the matchups on the ice; they must’ve sent a message to the entire team to fuck shit up because every one of their players was going for the hit. I’d never seen anything like it. They didn’t even give the appearance of trying to play.

So, when the next high hit took our second-line center, Eli Clifford, down so hard the training staff had to step onto the ice to check him out, I lost it.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” I screamed, finally getting the ref to glance my way.

Rolling his eyes, he skated closer to where I stood, my blood boiling.

“I think you need to settle down, Coach.”

I huffed in disbelief. “Are you serious? I need to calm down? My guys are getting killed out there, and you’re standing around watching, doing nothing! What’s it going to take for you to make a call? Someone to get knocked unconscious? For us to have too few players able to skate to complete the game? Tell me where you draw the line, Stripes.”

The cocky motherfucker narrowed his eyes. “How about you run your bench, and I do my job officiating? Sound good?”

He was clearly on a power trip, and I wasn’t having it—not when my players’ safety was at risk. Some of these guys had families to go home to tonight, and it was my job to look out for them.

“Tell me, which one of the Orcas players will be sucking you off tonight?”

The ref turned an ugly shade of purple before screaming, “That’s it! You’re out of here!”

Mindful there were kids in the stands, I refrained from flipping him the bird on my way off the bench and through the tunnel carved beneath the arena.

Adrenaline surged in my veins as I bypassed the locker room and headed straight for my office, tugging my tie off along the way.

The feeling of helplessness churned in my gut. I could only argue a case for my players. I couldn’t fight alongside them, lay a few hits and mix it up with the opposing team as a form of release for the aggression building inside me.

I was angry at everyone and everything—most of all, the things I couldn’t control.

The game played on through the pane glass window of my office, but I set to work immediately. Pulling out my phone, I dialed every number I had access to of higher-level executives within the league. This certainly wasn’t the first time dangerous hits had been missed by officials and needed a closer look by the league office. Players received hearings and suspensions after the fact all the time.

Finally getting someone on the line, I pleaded my case and was told they would look into any dangerous hits and take the appropriate action. It was a canned answer. They couldn’t promise me anything, but it was a small comfort to know that someone had heard my concerns.

Sighing, I stood watching over my team as they continued to play without my guidance.

The sense of déjà vu was overwhelming.

I’d spent the entirety of last season high above ice level as the Speed competed in my absence. My hands were tied, and I fucking hated it. I craved action and a sense of purpose; coaching wasn’t coming close to scratching that itch. It only made me miss my former life more.

Staying so close to the game was going to be harder than I thought.

“Coach! Can you tell us about the ejection tonight?”

The reporters were hard to see with the lights from the cameras present nearly blinding me during my postgame interview. All I knew was that the question had come from a man.

Sighing, I kept my professional composure. “My top priority will always be the safety of our players. When that is threatened, and appropriate action is not taken by the officials on the ice, I don’t think it’s unreasonable that I get a little hot under the collar. The play out there tonight by Vancouver was dangerous and has no place in our game. The league has gone to great lengths to minimize hits to the head, and it’s up to the referees to enforce that stance.”

“Do you expect to see suspensions for the hits to Lawson and Clifford?” another male voice asked.

I shrugged. “That’s not for me to decide. I’m sure the league will look into the matter and take appropriate action if necessary.”

“Do you think it’s detrimental to the Speed that their head coach can’t control his temper?” The female voice attached to that question had my fists clenching. Bristol was pushing my buttons. She was probably still pissed about what had happened between us in the private air terminal in Pittsburgh.

Rubbing a hand over my jaw, I replied, “I think any coach would have been upset about the lack of player safety exhibited by the officiating crew tonight.”

“But you have been known to take unnecessary penalties, letting emotions rule you on the ice,” she challenged.

I raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware my playing career was up for discussion tonight. If we could keep the questions aimed at tonight’s game, that would be appreciated.”

That shut her up quickly, and another reporter jumped in, their questions all jumbling together as I answered on autopilot.

The only bright spot of the evening was that the Speed had won the game.

It was going to be a long season, especially if a certain redhead continued to egg me on.

Lord, give me the strength.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 13

Bristol

“I’ve noticed your articles have been especially tough on Maddox,” Dakota remarked as she sat beside me with a bowl of popcorn.

I groaned, reclining on the couch in the living room of the house she and Braxton had bought in Indy a year ago. “It’s my job to be critical.”

She gave me a pointed look. “There’s being critical, and then there’s bias. You might be lucky enough that others haven’t noticed because they don’t know your history with him, but you need to lock it up.”

“History.” I scoffed. “I slept with the guy once.”

“Bristol.” There was a note of warning in Dakota’s tone. “You’re better than this.”

“I know.” Throwing an arm over my eyes dramatically, I whined, “He doesn’t make it easy, though.”

“Are we talking about what happened on the plane?”

“More like what happened after,” I grumbled.

The sound of the popcorn bowl being placed on the coffee table reached my ears before Dakota’s hands peeled my arm away. She wasn’t going to let me hide from what was going on in my life.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me,” she said softly.

I blew out a heavy breath, my hand floating to my throat where the scratches were no more than a distant memory. “I don’t know what to do.”

Dakota took my free hand. “Is there something there with Maddox? And you’re purposely distancing yourself because you’re afraid of how it’ll look?”

Huffing out a wry laugh, I countered, “How it’ll look? There’s no scenario where I don’t look like the slut who slept with the head coach to get ahead. It won’t matter to anyone when we hooked up. If it was before I started my job, it looks like I spread my legs to get the position. If it’s after, I’m fucking my way to better interviews.”

“So, that’s a yes.” She twisted her lips in thought. “But it still doesn’t touch on how you feel about him. You said the sex was next level, but what about the rest? Like the part where he went out of his way to apologize to you after you made that call to me from the bathroom. Or when he was the one who pulled you from your panic attack on the plane and made sure you got medical attention the minute you landed?”

“You’re forgetting the part where he turned those tender moments into something sexual, making it exceedingly clear he’s all too eager to get back into my bed,” I pointed out. “I’m sick of the playboys who are only down to fuck, not caring about the trail of broken women they leave behind.”

“They’re not all like that.”

“I know.” I couldn’t help the sad smile that turned up my lips. “You got a really great one, and his brother’s one of the good ones too, as are all of his closest friends. I just keep finding the duds.”

“You’re really ready to write Maddox off so quickly?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I can’t keep doing this. How many times can I let my heart be broken before it completely shatters, and I’m left with nothing? I already had to move away from the only home I’ve ever known after the last one. This one could cost me my job, my fresh start.”

“Do you know why Braxton invited Maddox to Pipes that night?”

“Why?” I let out an exhausted sigh.

Her mouth curved into a soft smile. “Because you’re both starting over. He thought you might find common ground. That it might make your first day easier, with another friendly face at the arena besides him.”

Arching an eyebrow, I countered, “He didn’t seem too keen on the idea of us being chummy when he lost his shit on Maddox and got punished in front of the entire team.”

Dakota’s head tilted from side to side. “Well, to be fair, he didn’t expect you two to hook up. I think he still has PTSD from the whole Nix situation.”

I snorted. “That makes two of us.”

“Three.” She hooked a thumb toward her chest.

Nix made sure to leave a trail of destruction in his wake. He was selfish like that, and anyone who got in his way became collateral damage. Dakota became a target because she was looking out for me, knowing I could do better. Braxton—even though they were roommates—got up in his shit because he was a white knight, and I fell under his protection as Dakota’s best friend. That meant Nix went out of his way to fuck with him, going so far as to goad him about my crush on Jaxon, among other things.

Had I realized he was so shitty to the people I loved sooner, I wanted to believe it would have been the push I needed to end it with him, but I wasn’t so sure. He had this hold on me that had turned me a pathetic, lovesick fool. Looking back on it now, I hated the person I became when I was with him. I was so much better off now.

I grabbed the bowl of popcorn, threw a handful in my mouth, and eyed the chick flick playing on the TV that we’d watched a thousand times.

“Enough about me. How’s work going for you? You’re starting a new book soon, right?” I was desperate to change the subject. It was bad enough I was forced to see Maddox almost daily at the rink and write about him for work. I needed a mental break from the man.

A mischievous sparkle entered her brilliant blue eyes, so dark they rivaled the color of sapphires. “You know, I’ve been toying with something different in my hockey series.”

“Oh yeah?” I perked up. I might have sworn off hockey boys, but I could still enjoy reading about them not being total douchebags and treating a woman right.

She held up her hand for dramatic effect. “Hear me out.”

I eyed her carefully. “Okay . . .”

“It’s not your typical hockey romance, but what do you think about a story where the head coach hooks up with a reporter, and they fall madly in love?”

She began to giggle, and I chucked a throw pillow at her head. “I hate you.”

Lowering the pillow from her face, she smirked. “Not any more than I hated you when you forced me to spend time with Braxton when he was the last man on Earth I wanted to go near. And come on, tell me the forbidden romance element doesn’t get you all hot and bothered.” Dakota waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“More like gives me paralyzing anxiety that someone will find out and I’ll be forced to go home and live with my parents,” I grumbled.

“Aw, come on. You can take the spare bedroom here,” she offered.

“No, thanks. I’m not interested in being your practice baby, sleeping in your future nursery.”

Dakota pinched my cheek. “But you’re so cute.”

“Mmhmm. What’s it going to take for you to drop this?”

She tapped her chin, pretending to think. “How about you take your personal feelings out of your writing, and we’ll call it even? I remember someone telling me once upon a time that they were glad their writing centered around facts instead of drama.”

“Fine.” I sighed. “But he is very dramatic.”

“He’s figuring out his new role, same as you. Don’t you think he should be afforded a little bit of grace?”

“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes.

“Who’s dramatic?” Braxton walked into the living room, dropping a kiss on Dakota’s lips.

Dakota looked at me to answer, but there was no way in hell I was stepping on that land mine.

When she realized I had no intention of speaking up, she told him, “Maddox.”

A growl rumbled from his chest, and he turned to me. “Is he bothering you again?”

Lord, these two were on totally separate pages when it came to my relationship—or non-relationship—with Maddox. Dakota was in that new love phase where she wanted to see everyone else happy and in love. And, of course, it didn’t help that she wrote couples falling in love daily for a living. Then, there was Braxton, who was in protector mode. He was ready to go to war against any man who mistreated me.

“No, Dad.” I gave him a little bit of attitude. “But you need to rein your girlfriend in. Her author brain is already writing our happy ending.”

His voice grew stern as he addressed her. “Dakota. We talked about this.”

Dakota waved a hand through the air. “You talked. I listened. I wouldn’t go so far as to say we had a conversation where we were on the same page.”

Braxton groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “It can’t happen. You know that.”

“And why not?” Folding both arms over her chest, she narrowed her eyes.

How did I end up in the middle of this again? Oh yeah, by deciding it was a good idea to have an anonymous one-night stand. How could I forget?

“Because they work together!” My eyes widened at Braxton’s raised voice. It was a rarity, and I’d only ever heard it once before—the day he screamed and shoved Maddox on the ice at practice. And yet again, I was the cause.

Dakota scoffed. “Yeah, because workplace romances never happen.”

“It’s not the same,” he countered. “This isn’t some fictional book. This is your best friend’s life!”

“Is it so wrong for me to want to see her happy? Maddox is one of the good ones, you know that. And there’s clearly something there.”

“Tell me this, Dakota. What happens if the two of them don’t get the happy ending, huh? Not everyone decides to spend the rest of their life with the first guy they date.”

He had a point there. Braxton was Dakota’s first everything. She didn’t know what it was like to wade through the duds of the dating pool, to have guys not call her back, to watch as a guy you liked moved on with a new girl. But she had witnessed heartbreak. Her mom had been so besotted with her dad that she let it wreck her life, and that had left a lasting impression on my best friend. It was no small miracle that she’d let Braxton in, opening her heart to him after the disaster of her childhood.

“But what if he is the right one?” Dakota’s voice betrayed how passionately she believed something could be found between me and Maddox.

Braxton challenged further, “If it doesn’t work out, is she expected to pretend like it never happened? With the amount of time they spend together professionally? He’s not going to walk away from his position, so is she the one who has to bow out? Hasn’t she been through enough?”

I needed to put an end to this. I couldn’t have my bad decisions driving a wedge between my best friend and the man she loved.

“Does anyone care that I might have an opinion on the matter?” I interrupted their heated debate.

Both heads turned in my direction. Judging by the guilty expressions on their faces, they’d forgotten I was in the room as they argued over my love life—or lack thereof.

The fire in Dakota’s eyes extinguished, and she leaned forward to give me a hug. “Sorry, babe. You know I only want what’s best for you.”

“I know.” I tightened my arms around her. “I just don’t think Maddox is it.”

Sighing, she pulled away. A sad smile tugged at her lips as she nodded. “I guess. Do you think if Nix hadn’t—” Dakota paused, a shudder rolling through her body at the mention of his name. “Do you think if things had been different back in Hartford, you might have been open to the possibility?”

Reaching out, I squeezed her hand, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t even be here now if it weren’t for him.”

“Right. Of course. Don’t know what I was thinking.” She stood, her fingers slipping from my grasp. “I think we need a reset. I’m gonna go use the bathroom, and when I come back, we are going to start this night over again.”

“Sounds great,” I replied.

The second he heard the door close to the powder room down the hall, Braxton took her seat on the couch.

“Braxton, look—”

“We don’t have much time.” He cut me off, peeking over my shoulder toward where Dakota had disappeared.

“Excuse me?”

“I know it’s asking a lot, but I need you to come to Pipes on Tuesday night.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Care to explain why you’re asking me to return to the scene of the crime? Especially after that really convincing display you just put on?”

“I’m gonna propose to Dakota.”

A gasp was torn from my throat, and both hands flew to cover my open mouth. I knew it was coming, but I hadn’t expected to be invited to the show.

My heart swelled for my best friend. She deserved the kind of love Braxton showered upon her.

A pleased smirk graced Braxton’s face at having surprised me. “Thought it might be special since the Comets are coming to town a day early.”

I shoved at his shoulder playfully. “Ugh, that’s such a great idea. Why are you so freaking perfect?”

He flashed me a cheeky grin. My bestie had found herself a man who rivaled the book boyfriends she wrote that other women swooned over. And he didn’t have to try; it came to him naturally.

“She loves it when Nat and the kids come to visit, but it’s bittersweet. Just when she found a family to love her unconditionally, we moved halfway across the country.”

Braxton’s brother and his wife had five kids between the ages of fifteen and two. That might seem like a unusually large age range, but only the youngest two were biologically Jaxon’s. The older three came from Natalie’s first marriage—to a European prince, no less—but Jaxon had legally adopted them a few years back. Dakota was an only child, like me, so being brought into a big family was like a dream come true for her. There was so much love surrounding her that, at first, it had been overwhelming.

“So, you’ll come?” he asked hopefully. “Gonna have the whole crew. Doesn’t seem right to do it without you there too. You’re Dakota’s best friend. She’d want you there to share in that moment.”

“Of course, I’ll come. It’s been a long time coming.”

“That, it has,” Braxton agreed.

While they’d only met two years ago, their relationship had gotten off to a hot start.

Braxton had been all-in from day one. He knew what he wanted, and Dakota was it. But they’d pumped the brakes after Braxton demanded the trade that brought him to Indy. Sure, Dakota moved out here to be with him, and they’d bought a house together, but they decided it was best if they slowed things down. In their early twenties, there was no rush to settle down. But I knew Braxton wouldn’t want to wait forever. Dakota was his world.

As the bathroom door opened and Braxton jumped up, saying something about making us a fall-themed cocktail, I wondered if I would ever find a man who truly believed he couldn’t live without me.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 14

Maddox

Regardless of rivalries, when an opposing team came to town, you offered them ice at your arena for practice. Usually, they only needed a morning skate the day of the game, but the Comets showed up a day early, having an open day on their schedule between their game in Chicago and their matchup with the Speed.

Unlike most teams, our practice ice was housed inside Speed Arena instead of a secondary rink in the suburbs. So, when the Comets borrowed our arena, we were in the building at the same time, on a sheet of ice a few levels below them.

There might be fierce competition on the ice, but there was a brotherhood when you reached the highest level of professional hockey. Guys had connections that went way back—from juniors, college, or time spent on another team in the pros—and were always excited to reconnect.

I was just off the ice from our practice, still in my skates, when a freshly showered Jaxon Slate approached me in the hallway.

He chuckled, taking in my attire of an all-black tracksuit with the Speed emblem over my right pec. “Looking the part, Sterling. How’s coaching treating you?”

Shrugging, I replied, “Can’t complain. Keeps me close to the game and the guys I care about.” I gave him a playful nudge. “Not all of us are built to play the game into our forties.”

“Hey!” Jaxon protested. “I’m only thirty-three.”

He might only be two years younger than me, but you couldn’t tell he was one of the older players on the ice. Jaxon’s talent was special, and he was still producing at a high level—some might say he was playing the best hockey of his career.

“You know, any normal human would start to slow down at your age,” I teased. “I really thought having a house full of kids—and teenagers, no less—would have stolen some of your focus.”

“Yeah, you wish.” He shot back with a smile. “They only give me more inspiration.”

I gave him a polite nod. I wouldn’t know what that was like.

“Your little guy still carving it up in the Hartford youth circuit with Mason’s kid?” Benji Mason was another of the Comets’ star players.

Jaxon barked out a laugh. “You know it. I can’t keep Beau off the ice. But I have to tell you, it’s incredible to rediscover the game through his eyes and watch the development happen. And boy, do I have a whole new level of respect for my parents and all the time and money they put into my youth hockey days. I was totally oblivious as a kid.”

“How old is Beau now?”

“Turned nine this past summer.”

I whistled. “Man, time flies.”

“Tell me about it. Amelia will be sixteen this spring, Jameson fifteen this winter.”

Jaxon was a great guy both on and off the ice. He played a clean game, and his sportsmanship knew no bounds. He’d made a significant impact in the Hartford community with his charitable pursuits. And then there was his personal life. He’d fallen in love with a single mom and claimed her three kids as his own.

Shaking my head, I remarked, “Unreal. And the little ones?”

Without delay, he whipped out his phone, showing me the screen saver of his family. There were five children in total. He pointed to a little girl who was his spitting image. “Charlie is five now.” His finger shifted to an adorably chubby toddler boy. “And Max just turned two.”

“You’ve got a beautiful family, man.”

Jaxon’s eyes lifted from the screen to meet mine. “Yeah, they’re my reason for living. You ever think about settling down?”

I shoved both hands in my pants pockets. “You know how much we travel . . .”

He nodded in understanding. “I get it. It’s hard to meet someone who can withstand the rigors of our profession.”

That wasn’t exactly my issue, but I didn’t need to spill my guts to this guy. He had it all—the adoring wife, the family, the career that wouldn’t quit. He would never understand that losing my ability to play had left a giant hole in my life, and I wasn’t sure anything could fill that void.

So, instead, I brought the conversation back to him. “Braxton was showing me some clips of Charlie all geared up and skating like a little speed demon. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Don’t tell the others, but I think she’s his favorite.”

Jaxon chuckled. “It’s not exactly a state secret. Everyone knows the two of them have a special bond.” He paused. “Speaking of Braxton, is he doing okay out here?”

I nodded. “I can tell you with absolute certainty that he earned that A on his jersey.” An A designated a player as an alternate captain. “He really stepped up when I went down, even though he’d only been on the team a few months. He seems to be thriving here. Especially with Dakota by his side.”

“Yeah,” Jaxon said on an exhale. “I wanted so much to keep him close, to protect and guide him, but he needed the space to grow, to find himself. I’m glad he’s found that here. I just miss him, you know? We had just gotten a chance to reconnect when the trade happened.”

“He’s a good kid and a hard worker.” I joked, “Wonder where he gets it from.”

Jaxon held up both hands. “I’d love to take credit, but I was out of the house before he began playing full ice.”

“You didn’t have to be there to leave an impression, to become his inspiration,” I remarked.

Rocking back on his heels, Jaxon hummed. “I think he became the player he is today in spite of me. Growing up, our dad was pretty hard on him, expecting him to emulate my game. And when he couldn’t, it wasn’t pretty. I’ll leave it at that.”

Yikes. Even after my parents split up, they still came together to support me as I pursued my hockey dreams. My dad had been more supportive than critical. He’d always said it was up to me how far I went in the sport, that no one else could do it for me, that there were no shortcuts.

He was right. The kids who thought they could screw around at practice or have their parents bargain with a coach for more playing time didn’t make it past youth hockey. I earned everything in my career, and it was because I always had those words from my dad playing in my head. I owed him everything. To think that Braxton’s father was one of those glass-banging assholes you saw screaming at eight-year-olds on the ice had me seeing him in a new light. Braxton could have easily become jaded, hating the game he played to the point of quitting. Instead, he’d persevered through that kind of pressure to become the incredible player he was today.

Jaxon turned his head from side to side, checking to see that the hallway was clear before asking, “You’re going to the thing at the karaoke bar tonight, right?”

My eyebrows rose. “Pipes?”

“Yeah, I think that’s what they said it was called. It’ll be nice to get everyone together before we go to war on the ice tomorrow.”

I was mildly confused. “Is there some kind of event there tonight? Usually, the team goes after a game, but they have tonight off.”

“Oh shit,” he cursed. “I probably wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

Realization hit me with the force of a sledgehammer. Now that I was no longer a player, I wasn’t invited to “player” gatherings.

There had always been a separation between the coaching staff and the team. They didn’t come out with us; they had their own little group. It didn’t matter that in my mind, I was still one of them; they saw me differently. And it didn’t help that I’d stopped going to Pipes on my own. Maybe they thought I was the one drawing a line with my new role.

Jaxon shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I better get going. Nat’s had the kids all day without me, and I’m sure she’s ready for a break. Catch you later, Maddox.”

“Yeah,” I said weakly as he walked away.

It was like right after the injury all over again—I felt isolated.

I fucking hated it.

I was reeling, feeling out of control in my own life. A single moment in time had created a seismic shift, throwing everything off track and setting me on a new trajectory—one I hadn’t chosen for myself.

Dropping my head back against the concrete wall, I closed my eyes, trying to get a grip on the rising emotions—anger, disappointment, regret. This was a problem that couldn’t be fixed, and I struggled to wrap my mind around my new reality even months after learning that my body had failed me.

I would have sold my soul to play just one more game. Because that’s what the game was to me—a part of my soul, an essential part of my identity.

My chest heaved, and my fists clenched at my sides. I needed to feel something, anything. And the only person who helped with that was keeping their distance, so maybe it was time to seek out an alternative.

Opening my eyes, I spun around to face the wall, taking a step back. I cocked my fist, ready to break my hand by punching solid concrete in my desperation to have some proof that I was still alive.

My bicep shook as I mentally prepared for the burst of pain.

Okay, here we go. Three. Two. On—

“Whatever this is, it looks promising. Care if I watch?” A voice cut through the haze, and I whipped my head to the side, my fist still suspended in the air.

Hannah Moreau—well, I suppose it was Berg now—stood a few feet away, legs and arms crossed, one hip propped against the wall as she eyed what appeared like a mental breakdown.

Okay, who was I kidding? It was a mental breakdown. I just wasn’t expecting an audience.

Palm up, her hand cut through the air parallel to the ground. “Proceed. Don’t let me stop you.”

She was the youngest daughter of Ace Moreau, the Comets’ head coach, and was married to my old college captain, Cal Berg. Hannah understood both sides of the game, having lived with a coach and a player. Maybe there was a reason that she’d been the one to find me when I was about to inflict bodily harm on myself. It was good that she did; I would have had a hell of a time explaining that type of injury to upper-level management and the training staff.

Dropping my hand to my side, I turned to face her fully, dipping my head in acknowledgment. “Hello, Hannah.”

Pushing off the wall, she stepped closer, a playfully sexy smile on her lips. “Long time no see, Maddox,” she purred.

Hannah was hot, and she knew it. She carried herself with a confidence other women couldn’t match, and they secretly hated her because she also knew how to talk to men.

Had I once been attracted to her? Hell, yeah. There was even a close call at a club in Hartford a few years back.

At the time, I hadn’t realized she was a hockey legend’s daughter. As soon as Cal interrupted us and dropped that little truth bomb, I was out. Ace Moreau was notorious for warning players away from his daughters, and I wasn’t looking to stir up even more trouble in an already heated rivalry. Go figure, Cal had set his sights on the girl himself and stopped us out of jealous rage versus looking out for me.

“Wanna explain why you were seconds away from punching a wall?” she questioned, her blue eyes assessing me carefully.

I blew out a heavy breath. “Existential crisis. No big deal.”

“Sounds about right,” she mused, nodding.

“Your dad ever struggle with his career ending?” I was swallowing my pride big time by even asking.

Hannah’s gaze softened. “No, I think he knew it was time. There was more regret about chasing it for longer than he should have. He struggled to keep up during those final few years, losing minutes to younger guys, and I think that was a huge blow to his ego.”

Ace Moreau had been a three-time champion with the Houston Heroes, the team that had drafted him. Once he was past his prime, they chose to let him go, and he’d team-hopped for nearly a decade, playing into his early forties.

I must have visibly deflated at her answer, as it didn’t help me, because she offered, “Cal, on the other hand . . .”

My ears perked up. “Yeah? He’s not happy in retirement?”

Hannah shrugged. “His situation isn’t the same as yours, but sometimes I think he wishes he was still out there with the guys. They go to practice, they play in games, and he’s forced to watch on. It’s not the same, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” I huffed.

“There’s almost a disconnect. He’s close but not close enough. And it’s hard for him to sit on his hands, acting calmly in the booth when something happens on the ice. He’s forced to analyze it in a neutral way when I know he wants to shove his foot up someone’s ass.” She laughed lightly. “Sometimes, I think he’d be better suited behind the bench, like you.”

“Yeah, because that wouldn’t spell disaster with my troublemaker of a wife,” a deep voice boomed further down the hall.

Glancing over Hannah’s shoulder, I saw Cal Berg striding toward us. He was a big dude, intimidating to most as he gave off the appearance of a Viking, but I knew him when he was just coming into his size. And I wasn’t exactly small myself, my six-three not far off from his six-five.

When he reached where we stood, he looped his arm around Hannah, pulling her into his side possessively. She peered up at him with stars in her eyes, teasing, “Oh, come on, you know I would make the best coach’s wife.”

Cal snorted. “It’s bad enough you text me throughout the entire game while I’m on live television. I can only imagine you barging onto the bench if you didn’t like how something was going.”

She bit her lip to keep from smiling but was unsuccessful. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s okay to ask for help, honey. We’ve been over this.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’d be forced to explain to the league office why my wife was screaming at a ref at ice level. At least now, I can lock the door to the press box.”

Hannah pouted. “So mean.”

Turning to me, his playful affection for his wife died, and those Arctic blue eyes hardened as his jaw clenched. “Maddox,” he addressed me gruffly. “Managing to keep your hands off women you have no business touching?”

I flashed him a cocky grin. “Never.”

A growl rumbled from Cal’s chest. I had said it to get a rise out of him and was pleased I’d hit the mark.

He was still pissed about the club all those years ago. To be fair, my hand had been up Hannah’s skirt when he caught us. And she hadn’t exactly been wearing panties. It wasn’t a great look. If he felt even half the level of possession over Hannah that I did for Bristol, I could understand why he was agitated. I wasn’t sure I would have the same restraint if I came face to face with someone from her past who had touched her intimately.

Hannah slid a hand up his chest. “You know, Christmas is coming up, and I wouldn’t say no to my gift being double-stuffed by two of the biggest men I’ve ever had the pleasure of rubbing up against.”

My eyes widened in shock at her words, but Cal reacted instantly. Her body was pinned against the concrete in a flash, and his hand was in her hair, gripping so tightly I heard her pained gasp.

Cal’s tone was lethal as he spoke to his wife. “You trying to earn a punishment, baby?”

What did it say about me that this display had my cock thickening?

Hannah couldn’t move her head with how he held her, but her throat bobbed on a swallow. Licking her lips, her reply was breathy. “Y-yes.”

“Maybe this time your punishment will be denial—and not the fun kind,” he growled, his face an inch from hers.

“Please,” she whined, her hips shifting against his.

Did these two not realize they were in a public place? Perhaps they didn’t care.

Cal released her, and Hannah sagged against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her skin was flushed, and the pulse point at the base of her throat fluttered wildly.

Jesus, maybe I’d dodged a bullet. I don’t think I could have handled that woman. Even for a single night. Good on Cal for having a firm handle on her, though. Watching the two of them was enough to make you believe that there was a perfect match for everyone. Hannah had undoubtedly found hers.

The tiniest hint of a smirk graced Cal’s lips as he said, “It was great catching up, Maddox. Good luck tomorrow.” He looped his arm around Hannah’s waist and led her away.

I was left standing there stunned, watching them leave.

“What have you found yourself in the middle of now?” Bristol’s voice behind me was accompanied by heels clacking on the polished concrete floor.

I made sure to adjust myself in my pants before turning to face her.

It turned out to be a pointless exercise. Cal and Hannah might’ve gotten my engine started, but Bristol had it roaring to life. The security guards were sure to get a show today.

She was dressed in a navy blue wrap dress that brought out the color of her eyes while showcasing her soft curves, and the tie called to me. My fingers itched to tug on that thick band of fabric holding it together, to watch it fall away from her perfect body before I devoured her—first with my eyes, then with my mouth.

“Maddox?”

Fuck, I nearly groaned at the sound of my name on her tongue. What I wouldn’t give to hear her screaming those two syllables in ecstasy.

“Hmm?” What were we talking about again?

She raised an eyebrow before folding her arms beneath her chest, pushing her breasts against the stretchy fabric of her dress, the creamy swells begging to be tasted. It had been so long since we were together that her unique flavor had become a distant memory. I needed a refresher course, stat.

“That little display. How did you find yourself in the middle of it?”

Oh, that.

Yeah, wasn’t going there with her. You didn’t bring up past fucks—or almost fucks—with a girl whose pants you were currently trying to get into. It was a terrible idea, the worst. Chicks had a habit of comparing themselves to others and always found themselves lacking. It made zero sense as women were like a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Their differences made them unique. I’d sampled my fair share, and I could honestly say I liked them all.

Although, none of them had me craving another hit quite like the one standing before me.

Shoving both hands into my track pants, I replied, “Just catching up with an old college teammate.”

Bristol’s pale blue eyes narrowed. “Didn’t realize Hannah played Division 1 men’s hockey. I feel like I would have heard about that.”

I tilted my head. “And exactly how do you know Hannah?”

“Please,” she scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

“Connecticut girl. Right.”

It wasn’t a stretch to say all Comets fans knew Hannah. She was not only their head coach’s daughter, but she also served as their anthem singer. How I hadn’t noticed that before our interaction still irked me. I should have known who she was, but in my defense, the smokeshow who showed up to the club that night bore no resemblance to the sweet girl who sang the anthem. And Hannah was a super common name.

It was an honest mistake. That was my story, and I was sticking to it.

Deciding to blow off her line of questioning—knowing it would only end badly for me—I changed the subject. “You know anything about the team meeting up with the Comets at Pipes tonight?”

It was a long shot, but she was friends with a player’s girlfriend and, as she’d pointed out, a Comets fan, so maybe she had heard something. Why I needed to dig into the catalyst for my earlier tailspin, I would never know. But talking to Hannah about Cal having some of the same post-retirement feelings did help ease the ache. That, and the pretty redhead standing before me, eliciting a reaction. If I had to guess, Bristol’s presence was the more helpful of the two.

Something about her took my mind off everything else in my life. Like when she was near, we were in a little bubble and nothing could touch us, like the rest of the world didn’t matter.

Plush pink lips pursed as she mulled over my question. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Care to share?” I prompted.

“I don’t know.” Bristol shrugged. “You wanna tell me why you were all cozy with Cal Berg’s wife before he stormed in and pushed her up against the wall?”

I cringed. She’d been watching longer than I’d thought.

“Not particularly.”

“Then I don’t think I’m interested in sharing what’s happening at Pipes tonight. Why should I give up classified information if you’re unwilling to give me something in exchange?”

My brows rose high on my forehead. “Classified?”

She smirked, turning on her heel and tossing over her shoulder, “I said what I said.”

What the fuck was going on tonight?

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 15

Bristol

Bursting with people, Pipes seemed completely different from the last time I’d been there. The second I stepped inside, Dakota began waving her arms like a crazy person at a table down front. They’d taken a bunch of smaller tables and created a giant long one to accommodate the large group of Comets and Speed players who had come to witness the celebration of love. Not that Dakota knew anything about it.

And sure enough, Hannah was on stage, loving the spotlight as she belted out a classic power ballad. She was making love to the crowd, but you couldn’t deny that woman’s confidence or talent. I wished I possessed an ounce of either one.

Dakota pulled out an empty chair beside her, and I dropped into it. She’d already ordered me a drink, and I tipped the glass of amber liquid to my mouth, savoring the burn.

She gestured around the table. “You remember everyone, right?”

The Comets in attendance were those closest to her and Braxton. Of course, there was his brother, Jaxon, who gave me a warm smile, along with his wife, Natalie, who waved. Then, there were Benji Mason and Cal Berg. They both gave me polite nods, and a few of the Speed players winked at me. Alyssa had been right when she said they were a bunch of flirts, but they were always respectful, which was more than I could say for their head coach.

Just thinking about my earlier interaction with Maddox had my blood boiling. There was more to what happened in that hallway than he’d let on.

I’d watched the entire thing. His entire demeanor shifted after speaking with Jaxon. He became visibly agitated, struggling with what seemed like inner demons. I had been glued to the spot, stunned, when he raised his fist, preparing to strike the wall. Thank God Hannah showed up when she did because I couldn’t make my voice work or my feet move to stop him.

It got more interesting after that. He and Hannah had a hushed conversation, and there was a familiarity between them that I became curious about. When Cal joined them, it didn’t go unnoticed how he staked a claim on his wife, pulling her away from Maddox. Then Hannah said something that made Cal snap, and he shoved her forcefully against the wall.

When they left and I approached Maddox, he evaded my line of questioning, further confirming there was more to the story. But what?

Dakota bumped my shoulder with hers, leaning in to whisper, “What’s with the resting bitch face?”

“What?” I pulled back in shock. “I don’t have that!”

My best friend smirked, tapping on her phone and pulling up a picture she must have taken without my knowledge while I’d been lost in thought. I was definitely giving off don’t fuck with me vibes.

“What’s wrong?” She eyed me with concern.

“Nothing.” I threw a fake smile on my face. “Just thinking about deadlines. Sorry.”

Pull it together, Bristol. Tonight is her night, even if she doesn’t know it yet. Don’t make it about you.

The music flowing through speakers strategically placed throughout the bar lowered in volume as Hannah’s song came to a close. She jumped down from the stage and collapsed into the seat across the table from mine.

Blue eyes bright and cheeks flushed, she declared, “I fucking love this place!” She gestured to Natalie. “We need to scope out a karaoke bar back home for girls’ night.”

Seated on the other side of Cal, Natalie laughed. “Good luck jailbreaking Amy.” Leaning forward to speak to Dakota, she said, “Did I tell you she’s pregnant again?”

Dakota’s mouth dropped open. “No! How did that not come up? We hung out all day!”

Natalie held up a hand, spreading her fingers wide. “Five kids, Dakota. Five. I can barely think straight most days.” She gave Jaxon a nudge with her elbow. “Thank God he finally got fixed.”

Jaxon shuddered. “Don’t remind me. They didn’t even have the decency to knock me out. I could smell the burning flesh.”

His blonde wife glared at him. “Am I supposed to feel bad for you?”

“Maybe a little.” He gave her puppy-dog eyes.

Natalie snorted. “Fat chance, buddy. I birthed your big-headed children. You don’t get to complain.”

“At least you got a prize at the end,” Jaxon grumbled. “All I got was bruised balls.”

“Okay!” Cal held his hands up, halting the conversation. “That’s enough. We’re trying to have a nice night out, and all you two are doing is turning everyone’s stomachs. Someone pick a new topic.”

Don’t do it. Don’t do it.

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Hannah, how do you know Maddox? He wouldn’t tell me.”

Dammit.

One of Cal’s blond eyebrows arched as he assessed me. “Maddox?” His tone was that of a disapproving older brother.

Fuck. Way to play it cool, Bristol.

“Coach Sterling,” I corrected.

A devilish gleam entered Hannah’s blue eyes, and she reclined in her chair. “Oh, Maddox and I go waaaaaaaay back.”

Cal’s warning growl was so loud I jumped. He was one big scary dude, and boy was I glad he’d played for my favorite team all those years. I couldn’t imagine going up against him on the ice. How did the opposing team not piss themselves when he was skating straight at them? When he laid a hit, it had to hurt.

Hannah was undeterred. “A few years ago, he bought me a couple of drinks, and we shared a dance. That was until this big lug”—she threw a thumb in Cal’s direction—“went all caveman on him.” She cupped a hand beside her mouth conspiratorially, stage-whispering, “He’s the jealous type.”

From what I’d seen earlier, that wasn’t an over-exaggeration.

Cal’s massive hand shifted from where it rested at the back of her chair, sliding up until the palm spanned the back of her neck. She leaned into the possessive hold, sighing.

Guess that works for some people.

Smirking, she remarked, “Congrats, by the way, if you’re taking a ride on that pogo stick.”

“Excuse me?” My eyes bulged.

Who the hell told Hannah?

I shifted my gaze to Dakota beside me, but she shook her head, indicating she hadn’t been the one to spill the beans. Considering Braxton wasn’t the biggest fan of our hookup and was worried about the career implications, it didn’t make sense for him to be blabbing about it, either.

Hannah continued, “Things got a little handsy that night. The man is packing.”

Cal wasted no time in hauling her onto his lap. His voice was low but still audible over the hum of chatter surrounding us. “Unless you want to be on your knees in a filthy bar bathroom, you’ll lock it up.”

I watched on as desire flashed in Hannah’s sparkling eyes, and she shifted on Cal’s lap. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.” He grunted, but she continued, “And there’s no need to feel inferior about Maddox’s dick size. You’re no less impressive.”

“Like I don’t know that, having showered with the guy for two years,” he grumbled.

I guess that laid the question of whether guys peeked in the shower to rest.

Hannah turned to me expectantly, but I was still reeling, trying to figure out how she knew I’d slept with Maddox while coming to grips with her knowledge of how he compared to her husband below the waist.

“Um—I don’t—We’re not—”

“Oh. I see,” Hannah said knowingly. “Still in the denial stage. We’ve all been there, haven’t we, girls?” She peeked at Natalie and Dakota, and they both nodded in agreement.

“You don’t understand,” I tried. “We can’t.”

She scoffed. “Girl, I took the book on ‘we can’t’ and threw it right out the window. If I’d followed the rules, I would be a sad, single, thirty-four-year-old woman having an endless stream of lousy, meaningless sex. Breaking the rules set me free. Highly recommend.”

Hannah made it sound so simple when it was anything but. She’d had to fight tooth and nail to get where she was with Cal. They eventually got their happy ending, but it hadn’t come easy.

Of course, my situation was a little different. Maddox and I would be walking into a gray area—it was strongly discouraged, even if not outright forbidden. I was just getting settled in Indy; it wasn’t worth rocking the boat.

“Tell me that he doesn’t know exactly where everything is.” Hannah waggled her eyebrows.

Cal muttered, “He’s lucky I didn’t break his hand for touching what was mine.”

My mouth dropped open. Earlier, when she’d mentioned getting handsy with Maddox, I figured she meant over the clothes, especially when she said they only shared a dance. But this new comment made it seem like it was more.

Insecurity rushed in like a tidal wave. Hannah was stunning and confident in ways I would never be. She didn’t need a man to define her. She would have never put up with Nix’s bullshit, letting him push her around.

If you put Hannah and me next to each other in a lineup, I might get some interest due to my red hair and the always intriguing do-the-carpets-match-the-drapes curiosity that came with it. But I was willing to bet that nine times out of ten, they would take the woman sitting across from me. She screamed sex appeal, and I seemed like a child by comparison.

I stood suddenly, my chair clattering to the ground. All eyes turned to me and the spectacle I was making.

Face flaming, I stammered, “I need to use the restroom. Excuse me.”

Dakota grabbed my hand before I could escape. Her eyes were full of concern. “Do you want me to come with you?”

I knew she meant well, but I needed a minute alone to take a deep breath and reset. Maddox wasn’t even here, yet he was still managing to wreak havoc on my life. That man was bad news all the way around. The universe kept trying to warn me to stay away, and it was about damn time that I listened.

“No.” I gave her what I hoped was a convincing smile. “I’m fine.”

Her expression was full of doubt as she scanned my face, but she nodded. “Okay.”

Peeking over her head, I locked eyes with Braxton. He gave me an imperceptible nod, letting me know he wouldn’t do anything until I returned.

Stepping around the fallen chair, I righted it before sneaking off to the bathroom to get my emotions in check.

Thankfully, the room was empty, and I didn’t have to hide in a stall. Grabbing a paper towel, I dampened it with cool water before pressing it to my cheeks.

Why did it bother me so much that Maddox and Hannah had had an intimate interaction? He wasn’t mine. I didn’t even want him. This kind of irrational jealousy was stupid high school shit, and I needed to snap out of it.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror above the sink, I took a cleansing breath, trying to clear my mind, but one thought still remained.

Why was I never jealous when I knew Nix was sleeping with other women?

I squeezed my eyes shut as my hands shook at the memory of the weak woman I had once been. I was stronger now, independent, and if there was one thing I’d learned from that chapter of my life, it was that I deserved to put myself first.

So that’s what I was going to do from here on out. I called the shots, not anyone else. I decided what brought me happiness. And right now, that was my job. Even if a certain tall, dark, and handsome man was firmly attached to it. He wasn’t going to ruin this for me. I wouldn’t let him.

Emboldened, I smoothed both hands over my shirt and left the ladies’ room, ready to celebrate my bestie’s big night.

I made it all of two steps before a voice crooned from behind, “Coop, baby. Looking good.”

And just like that, all the confidence I’d gathered faded away.

There was only one man who had ever called me Coop. And he was the only man in the world I prayed that I would never set eyes on again. Why, tonight of all nights, did he have to make a reappearance?

Not turning around, I cursed myself for the way my voice wavered. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying.”

He clicked his tongue, admonishing, “Aw, come on, baby. After all we’ve been through?”

How about all you’ve put me through, asshole?

The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I felt him draw closer. I physically recoiled when his arm brushed mine as he stepped in front of me. Nausea churned in my gut when my eyes met those of the one and only Levi Nixon, womanizer extraordinaire.

After months spent apart, I saw him in a completely different light. What I had once seen as a charming smile now gave me the creeps as he leered at me with a wolfish glint in his eyes. His cologne—which I had once sprayed on a T-shirt so I could smell him as I slept—was overpowering, giving me a headache.

Maybe it was because I now knew what he really was. A predator. He knew I was too weak to break away, so he’d used it to his advantage for years—years I would never get back.

And to think, I’d thought I was in love with him. What a stupid, silly girl I had been.

“Levi, leave me alone.” My voice was weak, lacking the necessary conviction to make him walk away. Not that he would, anyway. He was an entitled prick.

He raised an eyebrow. “Levi? What happened to Nix?” I shook like a leaf as he reached up a hand to brush my hair over my shoulder and leaned in to whisper in my ear, “I always loved our little nicknames. You were special.”

I wanted to scream, to beat on his chest, to push him away, but being near him again zapped me of all my strength. What kind of fucking dark magic did he possess?

Nix pressed his body into mine, pinning me against the wall, and all I could manage was a squeak.

How did I end up like this? Was no one worried that I was gone? Did they know he was here?

I couldn’t imagine he’d been an invited guest tonight. Braxton hated him.

“Can you feel how much I’ve missed you?” The words came out husky as he ground his erection against my belly.

Bile rose in my throat at the thought of ever sleeping with him again.

“No.” My voice was barely audible in my panicked state.

“Come on, tell me you don’t want one more night. For old time’s sake.” He pressed his forehead to mine.

“Please,” I begged. “Just leave.”

“The lady said no,” a voice boomed.

Both our heads turned to the side to find Maddox standing at the end of the corridor, his green eyes hardened as he took in the scene before him. And for the first time since I started my job reporting on the Speed, I was glad to see him.

Nix pushed off the wall, and I took a deep breath for the first time in what seemed like hours. He had a habit of sucking all the air from the room and leaving none for anyone else.

“This doesn’t concern you, Sterling.”

Maddox’s fists clenched by his side, and the tendons stood out along his neck. “It does when you have one of my team’s reporters pinned against a wall, and she has very clearly expressed she’s not interested.”

A condescending laugh fell from Nix’s lips. “Why don’t you go home and figure out how you’re going to have your players stop me on the ice tomorrow night? That would be a better use of your time instead of cockblocking me.”

“Nix, stop!” My voice was slowly regaining strength.

Green eyes widened in the dimly lit hallway. Maddox huffed out in disbelief, “This is Nix?”

Cockiness seeped into Nix’s tone. “I see my reputation precedes me.”

“Maddox . . .” I didn’t know how to explain. This was so, so bad.

Maniacal laughter sounded, and Nix looked between the pair of us, gesturing with his hand. “Seriously? You two?” He slapped his thigh, the sharp crack deafening in the small space. “Oh God, this is too good. A bunny for the bench boss. I bet you thought those days were long gone when you trashed your knee, didn’t you, Sterling?”

“It’s time to walk away,” Maddox gritted out.

Nix approached the raging bull of a man opposite him with a swagger in his step. “Don’t let her pull the bait and switch on you, though. She’ll convince you she’s in it for the fun, but the second you let your guard down, she asks for more than you’re willing to give.” He peeked at me over his shoulder. “Hot little piece of ass, I’ll give her that. You could do worse for my sloppy seconds.”

Before I knew it, Nix was flat on his back as Maddox straddled his prone form, wailing on him, fists flying.

Shocked for a split second, I sprang into action, screaming, “Maddox, stop!”

When he didn’t listen, I rushed forward to try and tug him off Nix. Maddox was a man possessed, unrelenting as he beat the shit out of the man beneath him. One of his backswings caught me in the hip, and I stumbled backward, landing on my ass.

“You’re going to kill him!”

Steps sounded from behind me, and I was hauled off the ground and hugged tight to a muscular chest. Muffled voices and grunts were coming from the area where Maddox had Nix pinned, and a sob bubbled up from my chest. Whoever held me stroked my hair softly, murmuring, “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

There was a final scuffle, and eventually, silence descended on the hallway. Almost afraid to look, I peeked to the side to find Levi propped against the wall, his face a bloody mess.

His lips pulled back in a sneer as he declared, “Your lover boy is gonna pay for this, Coop. Mark my words.”

Guilt washed over me, hot and heavy. Maddox could lose everything because of me.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.” The voice of the man who held me sounded all too familiar. Daring to peer up, I found myself in the arms of Jaxon Slate. Oh, if only my pre-teen self could see me now. She would have died.

I let Jaxon lead me back to the table, which was mostly empty now.

The moment Dakota saw me, she rushed forward, pulling me into a tight hug. “Oh, Bristol.”

Hot tears tracked down my cheeks; I couldn’t hold them back. My past and present colliding—literally—was too much. I was stupid to think I could avoid running into Nix when I decided to work for another hockey team.

It didn’t matter that I’d put nearly a thousand miles of space between us. Nix’s shadow followed me wherever I went. My past would always haunt me.

Over her shoulder, my watery vision found Braxton. I mouthed, I’m sorry, knowing I’d ruined his planned proposal.

Instead of frustration or anger, all I found in his eyes was compassion as he mouthed back, It’s okay.

Stepping out of our embrace, Dakota kept her hands on my shoulders. “Did you drive here?” I nodded, and she offered, “Let me take you home.”

I tried to brush her off, telling her I was fine, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

She threw her arm around my waist, and we walked side by side out of Pipes and into the chilly fall air. “What a night.” She sighed, taking my keys and sliding into the driver’s seat.

I was having a pity party for one as I collapsed onto the passenger seat but decided that I would rather laugh with my bestie than cry any more tears. I joked, “It wasn’t all bad. I got to live out my teenage fantasy of being held in Jaxon’s arms.”

She snorted, putting the car in drive. “That’s my girl. Finding the silver lining.”

“It was kinda fatherly, though,” I mused.

Dakota chuckled. “It’s weird, right? There’s no denying he and Natalie are the mom and dad of the group. I guess when you have that many kids, it comes naturally.”

As we drove through the dark streets of the Indianapolis suburbs, the events of the evening crashed down on me.

“Nix is gonna press charges,” I said softly.

Reaching for my hand, Dakota gave it a squeeze over the center console. “The guys will take care of it. You’ll see.”

I wasn’t so sure.

“Braxton was worried about me losing my job after sleeping with Maddox. I might be the one who costs him his.”

Dakota put the car in park when we reached my house, and the headlights of a vehicle stopping behind us illuminated the interior. There was no doubt that Braxton had followed us to take his girl home.

What I wouldn’t give to have a thoughtful guy take an interest in me for once. I only seemed to attract the duds.

Maybe I should have been more discerning when it came to men. I was too eager, gave up too much too soon, and they didn’t respect me. I was simply reaping what I sowed.

“You want me to sleep over?” she offered, handing me my keys.

“Nah.” I shook my head. “Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow at the game.”

Her lips twisted like she was unsure if leaving me alone was the right choice.

“Seriously. I’ll be fine,” I promised.

“Okay,” Dakota said on an exhale, knowing I could be as stubborn as a mule.

We got out of the car and hugged once more before saying goodnight.

Stepping inside my house, I locked the front door before sliding down the length of it until I sat on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest.

How did my life get so freaking complicated?

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 16

Maddox

My knuckles were split open and bleeding, and I stared down at them as Jenner and Cal shoved me toward the back exit of Pipes. There was a buzzing in my ears, the adrenaline still surging in my veins. For as long as I lived, I would never forget the sight of Bristol’s terrified face as she was pinned helplessly against that wall.

It seemed almost foolish now that I had freaked out over being excluded from the night’s festivities. Braxton had stopped by my office before he left for the day to let me know he wanted a group of his closest teammates from past and present there when he proposed to Dakota. To think I almost punched a wall over it.

As it turned out, I found a much more deserving target for a pummeling.

I was still in shock that Bristol’s ex was a professional player. From the brief interaction I’d witnessed, Levi Nixon didn’t care about her. Hell, he hadn’t listened when she said no or when she asked to walk away. No, he’d used his size to intimidate her, trying to get her to give up the fight and give in to what he wanted.

Almost more shocking than his actions were his words. She was an object to him, nothing more. A soft place to stick his dick when the mood struck for years on end. And I hated that it had taken her asking for something more for him to cut her loose. Who knows how long she would have remained in his clutches if she’d continued to play along, never complaining that he had a steady string of women warming his bed.

Couldn’t she see that she deserved so much better?

The shock of the fall night air did nothing to cool my temper. I was still in a fighting mood. So much so, that when Cal pushed me out of the way so the metal door could swing closed, I turned on him next.

I was mid-lunge when Jenner stepped between us. “Hey!” he shouted. “He’s not the enemy here.”

“Fuck!” I roared. My chest heaved as it struggled to draw in air.

“Take a minute. Walk it off. Then you need to explain what the hell happened.”

Running both hands through my hair, I tugged on the short strands hard enough for a bite of pain to reach through my rage-fueled haze. Pacing the back alley, I kicked a dumpster, and my foot’s collision with the unyielding metal sent a shockwave up my leg.

I wanted to feel something. Guess I got my wish.

“Feel better?” Cal’s voice said as my vision finally cleared.

“No,” I grumbled, returning to where they leaned against the brick exterior of the bar.

I reached for the handle of the exit door, but Jenner slid in front of it, blocking my path. “Not so fast.”

My first instinct was to fight my way through him. I needed to get to Bristol, to make sure she was okay.

Seemingly reading my mind, that redheaded bastard cocked a smirk. “You gonna hit me too?”

One half of my brain warned that I was in enough trouble, but the other half figured that if I was already in a hole, what did it matter if I dug a little deeper?

“I need to see her!” The frantic need to see her safe settled in my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“Who?”

“Bristol, who else?”

Jenner looked at me like I’d lost my mind, shaking his head. “Unreal. You couldn’t stay away. Now look at you.”

I charged at my best friend, my chest pressed against his. “Are you fucking telling me that if you saw some asshole pinning Evie to a wall, you would just stand there and do nothing?”

His nostrils flared, and he gritted out, “Leave her out of this.”

“No. I need you to know where I’m coming from. It doesn’t matter that we’re not together. She said no, multiple times, and he ignored her. Thought because they had a history, she was playing hard to get. And then, he had the balls to act all chummy with me when he discovered I’d been with her too. Tried to warn me that she might want more than meaningless sex because that’s all she was good for.”

A muscle in Jenner’s jaw twitched. “Fine. You’ve made your point.”

“Now let me pass.”

“No.” He refused to back down.

“Goddammit!” I screamed. “I need to make sure she’s okay!”

Cal stepped in. “No, what you need to do is lay low until we can make sure the little shit has been handled.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “Can one of you go in and check on her, then?”

“When we pulled you off Levi, Jaxon grabbed her. She’s shaken, but she’s okay.”

“How did she end up alone with him?” I needed answers.

Cal shrugged. “Honestly, I didn’t know he was here. He wasn’t invited. And as for Bristol, were we supposed to follow her into the bathroom?”

I scoffed. “Don’t women usually travel in packs in that regard?”

A shadow passed over his blue eyes, and he softened. “She seemed like she needed a minute alone.”

Instead of his words setting me at ease, my concern shot through the roof. “Why?”

He looked skyward and blew out a breath. “Let’s just say I’m not the only one bothered by your night with Hannah.”

“Who fucking told her?”

“She asked Hannah point blank how you two knew each other. And my wife doesn’t know when to keep her damn mouth shut. Poor girl looked like she wanted to cry. The idea of other women is a trigger for her. I’m sure you can imagine why.”

“Yeah,” I breathed out.

“I don’t know what the two of you have going on, but it’s clear that she cares.”

“That’s not the story she’s been selling. Keeps telling me she’s done with hockey players.”

“Can you blame her?” Cal challenged. “You saw what the last one was like.”

“I’m nothing like him,” I spat back.

“You’re right. You’re not. But she’s been hurt. She’s protecting herself.”

“I fucking hate this.” I began to pace the alley, needing an outlet for my frustration.

There was a knock from the other side of the metal door, and Jenner stepped aside as it cracked open. Benji Mason poked his head out, declaring, “Okay, we’ve got it handled.”

“Bristol?” I asked hopefully.

“No, saving your dumb ass.” He shook his head. “I’ve never been more thankful I only have boys. With a girl, you gotta worry about all the horned-up idiots out there who wanna get in their pants and lose all sense of reason.”

“Yeah, but with boys, you gotta worry about them knocking up the preacher’s daughter at sixteen.” Cal showed Benji no mercy.

Benji scoffed, rolling his eyes. “That happened one time.”

Cal chuckled. “That’s one time too many.”

“Fuck off,” Benji grumbled. “Knox is awesome, and I don’t regret his existence for even one minute. You’re just jealous.”

Jenner cut them off. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

Benji stepped through the door. “I talked to Larry, the owner. He checked the security cameras from the bathroom hallway and confirmed that Levi was holding Bristol against her will. And since he’s apparently a big fan of Maddox’s, he agreed to hand over that footage to us. Which we will now use as leverage should Levi threaten to press charges. If that’s the route he wants to take, then we will make sure Coach ends up with that tape. I’m willing to bet he will see the light. We all know how protective Ace Moreau can be over young women. Isn’t that right, Cal, buddy?”

Cal only growled in response.

“That’s what I thought.” Benji smirked. “So, you’re free and clear, Maddox.”

The relief at knowing I hadn’t flushed my career down the toilet over a woman who wanted nothing to do with me was only a slight comfort when Bristol was scared and hurting.

“Thanks, man.” I sighed, dragging a hand down my face.

Benji lifted a shoulder before letting it drop. “Eh. It’s been a while since we had any drama in Hartford. Guess we needed to come to Indy to outsource some.” A smirk crept onto his lips. “You know . . . If you really wanted to thank us, you could throw the game tomorrow night.”

I snorted. “Fat chance.”

“Was worth a try.” His unique gray eyes sparkled in the dim light.

Tilting my head toward the back door, I asked, “She still inside?”

“Nah. Dakota took her home.”

Fuck. I’d completely forgotten why we were gathered as one at Pipes tonight.

“Shit. I ruined the proposal, didn’t I?” Guilt burned through my veins.

Cal’s hand came down on my shoulder. “No. Levi did that. Not you.”

Leaning against the brick wall, I closed my eyes and dropped my head back, letting the rough bricks scrape against my scalp. But even with my relaxed posture, my fists were still tightly clenched, pulling at the skin of my knuckles, raw from fighting with Nixon. I still wanted to hurt him for hurting her, not just in the past but for reopening the wounds when he showed up tonight.

Jenner was the voice of reason. “She’s got her support system here. You need to give her space.”

Blowing out a breath, I opened my eyes to glare at him, even though I knew he was right. As desperate as I was to make sure Bristol was okay, running to her now would be a mistake.

It made more sense than ever why she’d sworn off hockey players if that idiot was her most recent experience.

The responsibility rested solely on me to show her I was different.

When Bristol skipped the game between the Comets and the Speed, I was forced to take action.

Flashes came to mind of her in my office, begging me to keep our one night a secret because of how badly she needed her new job and the fresh start it provided. To this point, she’d been dedicated, attending every single practice, and never wasting an opportunity to speak with the players or staff to gain as much information as possible for her articles about the team.

One brush with her ex in a darkened hallway, and she was hiding, putting her hard-won position at risk.

Once the arena cleared and the press was handled, I hopped in my car and drove to her house. I’d dropped a pin the morning after our night together, just in case. And we would pretend I hadn’t spent many a night staring at the location on my phone, memorizing the address until I knew it as well as my own. That obsessive behavior came in handy now. That was the important part.

The tiny ranch-style home was as quaint as I remembered from nearly six weeks ago. My cock stirred at the memories of what had transpired within those walls, but I told him to calm the fuck down. Today’s visit was about ensuring her emotional well-being after the trauma of last night.

Stepping up to her front door, doubt nagged at the back of my brain. What if she was avoiding me instead of her ex? If that was the case, showing up at her house uninvited could blow up in my face. But I couldn’t stay away. I needed to see with my own two eyes how she was doing.

Honestly, it was a miracle I’d been able to wait this long.

For the past twenty-four hours, I’d been restless, the uncertainty driving me insane. Whenever I heard heels in a hallway at the arena, my heart raced, anticipating her presence. But I was disappointed every time. Pretty sure Alyssa thought I was going insane because I kept bumping into her in hallways with how fast my feet moved, trained toward the sound.

It was no small miracle the Speed topped the Comets by a score of three-to-two because my head wasn’t in the game. Thankfully, rivalry games were charged, and my players rose to the challenge to beat their divisional opponents. There would be a round of beers on me the next time we hit the road as a thank-you for covering my ass and making me look good behind the bench.

As I raised my hand to knock, I pictured the last time I’d seen Bristol—pale and trembling—and my fist came down harder on the wood than I intended.

Great. An aggressive knock would set her on edge. That was the last thing I wanted.

Tentative footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, and the deadbolt turned moments before light from inside filtered onto the front porch.

My eyes had been cast down but snapped up at Bristol’s soft sigh. Backlit as she was, she looked like an angel. And maybe she was, sent here to bring me back to life. But as my vision adjusted and I saw the sadness etched on her beautiful face, my heart shattered.

Leaning against the doorframe, she asked, “What are you doing here, Maddox?”

That organ inside my chest that had been frozen since the last time I saw her, suddenly beat again hearing her say my name.

Shoving my hands into my suit pants pockets to keep from touching her, I replied, “You didn’t come to the game. I needed to make sure you were okay.” When she stood there, staring and not speaking, I squirmed, adding, “And to apologize.”

One of Bristol’s eyebrows rose. “For what?”

I blew out a heavy breath, looking skyward. “For being an asshole.”

A tiny huff flew from her lips. “Which time?”

Snapping my head to meet her eye, relief stole through my chest when I saw the tiniest hint of a smile tip up on one corner of those plush lips. “All of them?” That earned me the other corner turning up. “But mainly last night.”

Bristol nodded. “Okay. You want to come in?” She rubbed at her exposed arms, only clad in a tank top and leggings. It was early November, and the nights were moving past cool into cold as fall sped closer to winter. She had to be freezing with the door open.

“Yeah.” I gripped the back of my neck. “If that’s all right?”

Stepping aside, she shrugged. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

I crossed the threshold, allowing her to close the door behind me. Removing my suit jacket, I tugged on the tie around my neck, loosening it before rolling up my shirt sleeves. Most people felt suits were stuffy, and they might be right, but having been forced to wear one almost daily since I was a teenager—it being a requirement for travel and before games—I was used to it. Sure, it didn’t hurt that they were all custom-tailored, made for my uniquely muscular frame.

Scanning the living room, I noted that all the boxes from the last time I’d been there were gone. The walls were still white, but Bristol had made it her own. There were cute throw pillows on the couch, framed art on the walls, and pictures of what I assumed were family and friends scattered along the end tables.

“Do you want to sit down?” Bristol said softly from behind.

Whipping around, I was reminded of the purpose of my visit.

I sized Bristol up, noting how she seemed unsure of herself, chewing on her lower lip, her eyes darting around the room, looking at anything but me. This was not the confident woman I’d grown to care for, even if those feelings were one-sided. I wanted to beat the shit out of Levi Nixon all over again for doing this to her.

There was a magnetic pull between us, and I decided to stop fighting it. Closing the gap between us, I reached a tentative hand to hover an inch away from her cheek. When she didn’t flinch or move away, I cupped the soft skin of her face, stroking my thumb over the curves slowly.

A stuttered breath flew past Bristol’s lips before she relaxed against my touch. She had to feel this connection between us, right? I couldn’t be imagining it.

“First, tell me if you’re okay,” I commanded softly.

Those beautiful blue eyes searched mine before dropping under my intense gaze, her lashes tickling my thumb. On an exhale, she asked, “Physically or emotionally?”

Dread squeezed my heart in a vise grip, and my voice came out rough, choking on the words. “He hurt you?”

Bristol’s eyes fluttered open, and there was a beat of hesitation before she said, “He didn’t.”

“I don’t understand.” My forehead wrinkled as I tried to make sense of what she was saying.

“You did.”

Those words slammed into me with the force of a sledgehammer, and I stumbled back, my legs nearly collapsing at her admission.

“Me?” I forced out.

Ducking her head, she whispered, “Seems you have a habit of leaving my ass bruised.”

I gaped at her. “What—How—I—“ My brain was misfiring, racing to put the pieces together but coming up empty.

“You don’t remember?” Bristol tilted her head, eyes sharp as she witnessed my confusion.

Mute, I shook my head.

When she took a step forward, I held out my hands to stop her. If I didn’t remember hurting her, it wasn’t safe for her to be closer.

Bristol took a deep breath. “When you were on top of Nix.” My jaw ticked at the sound of his name. “You were out of your mind with rage. I knew if I didn’t stop you, you might kill him. And as much as I hate him, I didn’t want to see him drag you down too. So, I pulled on your arm, and when you shrugged me off, I fell hard on my ass. I know you didn’t do it on purpose, but I didn’t realize you didn’t remember it.”

It finally clicked, and I explained, “Rage blackout. My vision didn’t clear until they got me outside.”

“Oh. That happen a lot?”

“No.” I needed her to know I wasn’t a violent man. I would never willingly put her in harm’s way or intend to injure her myself—consensual bedroom activities aside.

I dropped onto her couch, placing my elbows on my knees and cradling my head in my hands.

Her small hand stroked my back. “I’m not upset with you.”

“You should be,” I scoffed, not looking up. “I just—“ I stopped, unable to continue, the weight of hurting her crushing my soul.

“Just what?” she asked, no hint of accusation in her tone.

“Fuck.” When I finally dared to peek at her, her blue eyes were wide but not scared. “I just saw his hands on you after you told him no, and something inside of me snapped. Then, when I realized he was your ex? I lost my damn mind. Knowing he’s the reason—“

Bristol sighed, breaking my gaze. “You know he’s not the only reason we can’t be together.”

“You’re telling me that if you didn’t have a history with a player who abused his status, you would have still shut me down flat? You’ve mentioned more than once that you’ve been down this road before. What if you hadn’t? What if this was the first time? Would you have been open to exploring this pull between us?”

“I don’t know.” She kept her eyes down, tucking her feet beneath her knees.

Gripping her chin, I turned her face, not allowing her to hide from the conversation—one we should’ve had long ago.

“I’ve never felt like this before, Bristol. I need you to know that. I can’t stop thinking about you. I see you every time I close my eyes. I nearly tore my best friend apart when he wouldn’t let me go to you after your ex had his hands on you. I was that desperate to see you safe.”

Her lips parted on a soft exhale.

“What’s it going to take for you to see that I could be the man to wipe him from your memory? To show you how a real man takes care of his woman? That you’re worth so much more than he made you believe? That you deserve to be cherished outside of the bedroom and worshipped inside of it?”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 17

Bristol

Stunned, I stared at Maddox as I tried to process his words. Emotions rushed through me as I struggled to settle on the correct one in response.

Disbelief stood at the forefront. Yes, we’d had incredible sex. Once. But after that, he’d turned into a jealous buffoon. There were flashes of tenderness which were quickly erased by a sexual suggestion. How was I supposed to believe that something deeper lurked beneath the surface between us, especially in his mind?

Then there was compassion. The look on his face, his physical reaction when I explained that he’d shoved me hard enough to knock me on my ass and leave a mark in his quest to rearrange Nix’s pretty-boy face. Maddox was devastated at the thought of hurting me. It was mildly intriguing, considering I’d spent the past three years being treated like shit and expected to be grateful for the privilege.

Next came hope. Hope that I’d found one of those hidden gems like my best friend and her found family. A hockey player—or a former one, in this case—who could treat women right, who saw them as more than merely objects to achieve sexual gratification.

Finally, fear settled in my heart. What if this was a case of right person, wrong time? Dakota wrote plenty of stories about that heartbreaking scenario. Could Maddox be the perfect guy for me, but our circumstances stood in the way? It was too terrifying to ponder that fate was involved, showing me what I could have but leaving it just out of reach. If so, it was a cruel joke. Hadn’t I suffered enough?

Captivating green eyes seared into my soul as his hand on my face held me immobile.

“Bristol, love, say something,” Maddox begged.

Him calling me love nearly had me moaning. My body was responding, even as my mind remained uncertain.

Darting my tongue out, I licked my lips, and his eyes tracked the movement as his Adam’s apple bobbed on a swallow.

My voice sounded strange to my ears, raspy and breathy. “Do you mean everything you just said?”

I slammed my eyes shut, too afraid to hear that it had been another line aimed at getting me back into bed.

“Look at me.” When I didn’t obey, he pleaded softly, “Please, Bristol.”

Steeling my nerves, I forced myself to open my eyes, gasping when I viewed the intensity in his.

His hand slid from my chin, over my cheek, and into my hair. “I meant every word.”

To emphasize his point, his face drew close to mine. His gaze dipped to my lips, and the air grew thick. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about our night together. If he had turned out to be anyone other than Maddox Sterling or another member of the Indy Speed, would it have taken this long to reconnect, to see if our explosive chemistry extended beyond one drunken night? Probably not.

And if that was the only thing holding me back . . .

Fuck it. I deserve this.

I launched myself into his arms, and our lips crashed together. At the first swipe of his tongue, it felt like coming home. This was where I always belonged.

Maddox groaned into my mouth when I climbed onto his lap, shoving his shoulders back against the couch. His hands rose to cup my breasts over the thin fabric of my tank top, thumbing the pebbled nipples straining for his touch. I broke our kiss as my head dropped back on a gasp as he pinched and pulled at them, the bolts of pleasure shooting straight between my thighs, stirring an ache I knew only he could ease.

My hips were restless, seeking friction as his massive erection grew beneath his fly. Cool air met with fevered skin when my top was removed, but it wasn’t enough. I was burning up, so hot for the man beneath me that I feared I would combust. Our spark was ready to ignite, and I was desperate to let it consume us.

The tip of his tongue traced around my exposed nipple, teasing before latching on. He sucked and bit those sensitive peaks until I was mindless, my hands threading through his hair and holding him close, never wanting this to end.

When Maddox pulled away, I whimpered at the loss, but he smiled against my skin. “Look at you all needy for me.” His hands slid to my hips, rocking me over his lap. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamt of having you back in my arms?”

My head thrashed, eyes sealed shut against the warmth spreading out from between my thighs, getting ready to erupt.

“Too long. Since the minute I left your bed weeks ago.”

I moaned when he latched onto the opposite nipple, giving it the same attention.

“Maddox, please.” I wasn’t above begging. I needed more than dry humping on my couch.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “Hearing you say my name is better than I imagined it in my head.”

“Take me to bed,” I breathed out. “Maybe you’ll hear me scream it too.”

In an instant, I was lifted, and we were moving across the room. The house was small, so it didn’t take long before I was dropped onto my bed. I shimmied out of my leggings and panties as he wrenched off his tie and went to work on the buttons of his dress shirt.

Completely sober, unlike last time, I watched his private strip show, biting my lip as more of his muscular body was revealed. He might not play anymore, but he hadn’t been slacking off in the gym. Not that I could tell, anyway.

He gave me a cocky smirk. “Like what you see, love?”

“God, yes.” I slid a hand between my thighs, desperate for relief. As good as my fingers felt rubbing tight circles over my clit, I knew having his touch would be better.

“Bristol.” His voice became strained as his jaw clenched and his eyes flared. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

His seemingly genuine words only heightened my arousal.

Look at you. Being a slut for a few compliments.

Well, can you blame me? No man has ever taken the time to offer them before.

That was all I needed—my subconscious reminding me that it had been a steady stream of losers before the man who stood before me half-naked.

They were in the past. They didn’t belong here.

Shaking the bad memories away, I continued to touch myself as Maddox undid his belt and shucked his pants. Clad only in boxer briefs, he approached where I lay.

Sinking to his knees beside the bed, he said in a husky voice, “Allow me,” as he tugged my hand away from my pussy before replacing it with his tongue.

I jolted at the intense sensation, and he chuckled against my core.

“So responsive,” he murmured before licking a path up my slit, focusing his attention on my throbbing clit.

My back bowed off the bed as he drew me higher and higher. Maddox pinned my hips with one forearm, holding me in place as he feasted between my thighs, seemingly deaf to my sobs echoing throughout the room as I shattered because he didn’t stop. No, he held me down as his teeth latched onto my clit, his tongue flicking furiously as he slid two fingers inside, roughly fucking me with his hand.

Screaming, I came a second time. This time, the pressure was so intense in the buildup that when it released, there was a rush of warmth between my legs as tears leaked from my eyes. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before, and it stole my breath away.

Maddox finally released his grasp and pulled away, but not far as his breath still fanned my slick flesh. The tiny puffs of air were almost too much, targeted where I was overly sensitive from two mind-blowing orgasms.

His head dropped to rest on my mound as our breathing leveled out.

“I’ll buy you a new mattress tomorrow.”

“What?” I lifted my heavy head to stare at him.

Peering up, his green eyes sparkled like emeralds, and a wolfish grin curved on his lips. “Pretty sure you soaked right through it when you squirted.”

In disbelief, I scooched further up the bed, eyes growing wide when I saw the massive damp spot where my hips had once been.

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m mean—No. I don’t do that.”

Maddox crawled over it and closer to me, propping himself up on an elbow when he reached my side. His chest was slick, and he grabbed my hand, placing it directly over where his heart was slowly returning to a normal rhythm. “Damn near waterboarded me, woman.” I was mortified, but his face was filled with an amused grin. “Not a bad way to die, though.”

I wrenched my hand away. “Stop. It’s not funny.”

“You’re right. It’s not funny. It was hot as hell. I’ll be reliving it for years to come when I’m stroking myself in the shower. Spank bank sufficiently filled thanks to you.”

When I only stared at him, with my face flaming to the point where I knew it had to be beet red, he lifted my hand to his lips, kissing the palm. “Did you need any further proof that you’ve only been dealing with boys before now?”

Jesus. When he puts it like that . . .

Not that I needed him to drive the point home, but Maddox chose that moment to shift his weight so his impressive length brushed my thigh. At some point, he’d shed his underwear, and I took advantage, reaching down a hand to grip him tightly.

Maddox groaned at my touch, his eyes sliding closed. When I realized my fingers couldn’t meet around his girth, I peeked down to confirm he was as large as I remembered. Yep, the man could put porn stars to shame. My core clenched, remembering how sore I was after our last encounter, but I eagerly anticipated experiencing that feeling again.

“Definitely a man,” I purred, stroking him.

His breathing hitched when I lowered down the bed to lick a path up the underside of his cock. Maddox anchored a fist in my hair but let me take him inside my mouth at my own pace. Pulling the crown between my lips, I gave a strong suck as I continued to run my hand up and down the base. I fought back a satisfied smirk at his strangled cry.

Unlocking my jaw, I took him deeper; my lips stretched to the max, the corners burning. But it was worth it to hear the sounds of pleasure rumbling from above. As he said, he was a man, not a boy, and there was an implication that he was experienced. I took it as a personal challenge to make him unravel, to know that I could please an older man. Lord knows I could use a confidence boost after the shitshow of the last twenty-four hours.

Maddox’s hips rocked slightly, easing him further down my throat. Sliding one hand around to grip his ass, I pulled him closer, moaning as I took him deep enough that it triggered my gag reflex, but I battled against it, knowing my throat muscles massaging his sensitive head would drive him wild.

And I was right.

Maddox let out a guttural groan as he struggled to hold back. “Fuck, Bristol. Your hot little mouth is gonna make me come.”

I hummed around his shaft, wanting nothing more than to witness him losing control. Heat pooled low in my belly. Pleasuring him, hearing him say my name like a prayer, was the ultimate turn-on.

Shoving him onto his back, I let his dick slide free as I straddled his thighs.

Staring down at him from above, I was struck by how truly gorgeous he was. His sweaty skin glistened, each muscle defined as his chest heaved with the ragged breaths he took. Dark hair fell over his forehead, and the tiniest hint of a five o’clock shadow graced his sharp jaw.

Placing my hands on his abs, I bit back a smile when those muscles tensed beneath my fingertips. I walked them up his chest until my body was flush with his, my hands toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Beside his ear, I asked, “You wanna come in my mouth or on my tits?”

Hands gripped my shoulders, forcing me back enough that Maddox could see my face. Time stood still as we stared at each other. The intensity of his green gaze had me squirming, shifting my hips over his eager cock. Our faces were so close that we were breathing the same air, and suddenly, I didn’t want there to be any space between us. I wanted us to be one.

“Fuck me, Maddox,” I demanded, effectively nullifying my earlier offer.

There was the tiniest flash of something I couldn’t place across his face, but it was gone so quickly that I wondered if I’d imagined it.

Before I could blink, I was flipped onto my back, Maddox’s hulking frame lurking above me.

“Is this what you want, baby?” His voice was gravelly as his cock traced a path over my seam.

“Yes,” I hissed, arching my hips, trying to draw him closer.

The blunt head of his dick nudged at my entrance, and I writhed on the bed, desperate for him to slam inside, to pummel my pussy like he had before. The memory of it was still so vivid in my mind but could never compare to the experience itself.

“Please, Maddox. I need you.”

A rumbling hum came from deep within his chest as he maneuvered just the tip over my pussy, teasing me with it.

If his aim was to heighten the pleasure with anticipation, it was working. I could feel my arousal leaking onto the sheets beneath my ass. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been so wet, so desperate to be claimed.

I let out a sigh of relief when the head of his cock slipped barely an inch inside. Finally, he was going to put me out of my misery.

When he slipped out again, I whined, needy and desperate to be dicked down.

The bed shifted, and Maddox said, “I don’t think you’re ready for this.”

Wait, what?

It took a second for the words to filter through the lust-induced haze overtaking my brain. But when I opened my eyes, I saw him standing by the side of the bed as he pulled on his boxer briefs.

“What the fuck? Are you leaving?” I didn’t bother to hide my outrage. After all the shit he said to get me back into bed, he was going to walk away before finishing the job?

Maddox kept his eyes on me as he bent to retrieve his pants. “I didn’t come here for this.”

Was that him saying he didn’t want it? He sure acted like he was enjoying himself. Especially when he went down on me without prompting.

Suddenly feeling exposed, I pulled the blanket resting at the foot of the bed around my naked body.

He sighed, running a hand through his thick hair after fastening his belt buckle. “I don’t want it to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, Bristol.”

“You’re not,” I protested. “I was consenting. You didn’t force anything on me.” Meeting his tortured gaze, I said for good measure, “I want you, Maddox.”

He shook his head. “You think you do, but it’s because you’re reeling after seeing your ex. You think that sleeping with me will help you forget about what happened.”

I cringed, knowing his assessment was partially true. Yes, I wanted to forget about Nix and all of his bullshit, but I also wanted Maddox because of what we’d previously shared.

“I’m done playing games,” he declared. “So, I’m gonna be straight with you. It’ll break me if you wake up tomorrow and push me away again. I don’t want to turn into another one of your regrets.”

All I could do was clutch the blanket closer to my chest as he slid his arms through his shirt sleeves and began to button the front.

“I think there’s something here between us beyond casual sex. And I’m interested in exploring that. Until you’re sure that’s what you want too, I can’t agree to take this further. I’m walking away now in hopes that we can have a future. I’m sorry if that’s upsetting, but it’s how I feel.”

Was he fucking kidding me? He was willing to walk away from a guaranteed offer of sex?

Because he wants something more. Isn’t that what you want too?

Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore. The pain of having my heart broken was too fresh; the wound ripped open last night at seeing Nix. Maddox was right about one thing: casual sex wasn’t the cure. But there was no guarantee that jumping into another relationship was either.

Stepping forward, he knelt on the bed, coming close enough to cup my cheek. Softly, he said, “You deserve to be the center of a universe. And if I’m being honest, you’re starting to become the center of mine.” He huffed out a wry laugh. “I almost threw away my coaching career for you without a second thought. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.” I leaned into his touch. “But you’re not there yet. And that’s okay. I’m happy to wait until you’ve shed the past. I’m a patient man.”

Maddox pressed his lips to mine quickly before pulling back.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” He dipped his chin and left the room. A few minutes later, I heard my front door latch and knew he was gone.

I was torn between melting into a puddle at his words or being pissed that he’d left me hanging. Anger—or more accurately, frustration—won out with the persistent throbbing between my thighs, a reminder of how close I’d been before he walked away.

A switch was flipped, and the weak woman Nix left behind was gone.

Maddox made a point of saying he was done with games, but in reality, he’d laid down a challenge. Maybe he was playing hard to get after I’d rejected him too many times, wanting me to experience how it felt to beg.

Oh, there would be no begging. Not from me. Not after tonight.

I’d have him on his knees by the time I was done with him. No man was so strong they could walk away more than once. I was determined to push the boundaries of his restraint.

I knew one thing for sure: I wouldn’t be the one with regrets.

After getting a much-needed assist from one of my handy helpers since Maddox had failed to finish the job, I pulled up the covers and reached for my phone. The orgasm helped to relax my body, but my mind still churned after the events of the evening.

Most people had their parents as the top number on their speed dial, but mine was Dakota. If anyone knew how to flip the script on Maddox, it would be her.

The phone rang on speaker as I lay in bed.

After a few rings, there was a breathless “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

There was a muffled male voice in the background, which I could only assume belonged to Braxton. Dakota said to him, “It’s Bristol.”

Braxton’s voice became clearer as he asked, “Is she okay?”

“I’m fine,” I spoke loudly, hoping he could hear me through her earpiece.

I heard the unmistakable smack of lips before he said to Dakota, “I’m going to get water.”

It dawned on me exactly what I’d interrupted, and I groaned. “Shit, Dakota. I’m sorry. I assumed you’d still be out with the team after the game.”

My best friend sighed into the phone. “Braxton was a little amped up at beating his brother for the first time, so we skipped the team celebration.”

I bit back a smile. “Surprised he could wait till you got home.” There was a scene in her first hockey book—the one that was about her and Braxton—where the couple had steamy car sex post-game.

“Oh, he couldn’t. You caught us on the tail end of round three. He was really excited about the win.”

At least one of us was getting thoroughly laid.

Her playful tone morphed into a concerned one. “Braxton’s gone. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on that has you calling me late at night?”

Groaning, I closed my eyes. “Maddox came over tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” Hope lit up her voice.

“Don’t get too excited,” I grumbled.

Dakota huffed. “The man threw down for you last night. He’s made his feelings clear. Why do you keep fighting it?”

“Oh, trust me. I wasn’t the one fighting it.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line. “I don’t understand. What happened?”

I blew out a heavy breath. “Let’s see. He came over, said he wanted to check on me and to apologize.”

“Awww.” I could hear her heart melting.

“Yeah, I know. And that’s got nothing on him begging me to give him a chance. That he wanted to cherish and worship me.”

Dakota sucked in a sharp breath. “Does that mean—”

I cut her off. “It means nothing. Because we went into the bedroom, and everything was amazing. Like seriously, the guy acts like he might die if he doesn’t get to go down on me.”

Dakota giggled, and my cheeks heated, remembering why I was purposely avoiding one side of my mattress.

“Um, random question, and then we’ll get back to the story, but have you ever squirted before?”

A gasp came through the line. “No! Have you—Did you?”

I threw my hands over my flaming face even though she couldn’t see me, thus muffling my reply, “Yes.”

She squealed, “Holy shit! Damn, Maddox. Might need to have him give Braxton a few pointers. Not that he needs any help, but sheesh. Talk about leveling up, Bristol.”

“Well, that part at least was great, albeit a little shocking,” I admitted.

“I’m still waiting to hear the bad part. There is a bad part, yes?”

“He walked away.” The sharp pang of rejection settled in my chest at the memory.

“What do you mean he walked away?” she asked, confused.

“I mean that he was right there, literally a thrust away from being inside me, when he stopped, put on his motherfucking pants, and ended it.”

“That man has been a jealous fool for weeks, even over Braxton. And you’re telling me he finally gets what he wants—you—and doesn’t take it? That doesn’t make any sense. Did he say why?”

This was where I was going to lose her; I knew that. That girl was all about the romance. And she didn’t just live it; she wrote it.

“He said that he didn’t want to be a regret in the morning—a knee-jerk reaction to Nix’s reappearance. He wants more with me. And that he was walking away so we can have a real chance when I am finally ready.”

I braced for the emotional reaction, and Dakota didn’t disappoint.

“That’s literally the sweetest thing,” she gushed.

“No. It’s not sweet,” I snapped. “What he did was the literal definition of being a cock tease!” I defended my outrage, knowing it would fall on deaf ears.

“I can appreciate that you’re upset over being denied an orgasm.” I could hear the smirk in her voice.

“Don’t patronize me,” I warned.

“Fine, then I won’t. I’ll be straight with you because that’s what you need right now. You both know what’s at stake if you sleep together again. It’s smart for him to be sure that you’re not risking either of your careers for a fling. Because if you do this, you’ll both have to come clean at some point. It can’t stay hidden; that’ll only make it worse when it gets out. Do you think any of those other jerks you’ve been with would care? They’d take what they want and throw you under the bus to come out as clean as a whistle.”

I hummed, knowing she was right but not ready to admit it. Wasn’t I allowed to have my moment to be upset first?

“And let’s take a minute to discuss the level of restraint it took for him to walk away. Especially if penetration was imminent.”

“Can you not say penetration?” I groaned. “It’s weird.”

“Look, I work in words about sex. Everyone wants words wiped out of books, but guess what? For every word that someone hates, someone else likes it. If I compiled a list of all the ick words for every person, I would have none left to use. It’s the technical term based on your description. Deal with it.”

“Ugh, you’ve made your point. Yes, that’s exactly where we were. The man was playing a game of ‘just the tip’.”

Dakota snorted. “Right. Most men wouldn’t be able to stop at that point if you asked them.”

“Oh, is Braxton one of those men to claim that he’s past the point of no return?” I challenged.

“You know he’s not,” she shot back sharply.

Yes, I did know that. The sweetest man alive had once offered to stop once he’d already crossed that threshold with my best friend.

Her voice softened. “And that should tell you everything you need to know about Maddox. He’s a good man. He’s not just looking to rack up the body count in bed or string you along like someone we know. Maybe taking a step back and evaluating what you want from a potential relationship is a good idea.”

Frustration still simmered beneath my skin. I couldn’t sit idly by and wait for him to decide when I was “ready.” How would he know that anyway?

“Or,” I hedged, “I can take a page out of Hannah’s book.”

Her cringe was audible through the phone. “I’m afraid to ask which one.”

An evil grin crept onto my face. “The one where she took what she wanted.”

Hannah had called to explain what had gone on between her and Maddox after the fight, emphasizing that it occurred years ago. Cal had interrupted them before things could progress too far while they were dancing at the club. Yes, Maddox had slid a hand up her dress, but she put it there. And yes, she’d had her hand on his dick, but only over the clothing. Maddox had bolted at Cal’s mention of Hannah’s hockey legend father. He wasn’t willing to risk his career for her.

But he is for you.

Dakota groaned. “The man is trying to be honorable. Can’t you let him have his white-knight moment?”

“I might have been more sympathetic to that before he got me naked and then had a change of heart. Now, I want him to beg for it. He won’t be able to walk away twice. Guaranteed.”

“So, what’s the plan? You make him beg, then give in? Or is this just a way of getting back at him? You need to really think about what you want out of this. Is it just sex, or do you want more? Because you know where he stands. If you don’t want the same, you’re no better than Nix, using him. And that’s not the Bristol I know.”

Dammit, why did she have to be so reasonable?

“You’re right. I’ll think about it. If I decide I want the same thing—to explore a relationship—then you’re on board to have a little fun with him?”

“Look at who you’re talking to. I love it when a woman brings a man to his knees. If—and that’s a big if—you decide you’re interested in Maddox for more than a little fun between the sheets, I’ll even help you.”

“Deal. Now, enjoy the rest of your night celebrating with your softie of a hockey hunk. Sorry again for interrupting.”

“Eh. It’s not like pausing for twenty minutes will kill him,” she teased. “Never be sorry. You’ve always been there for me, and I will never not pick up when you call. Day or night. Promise.”

“Thanks, Dakota. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

We hung up, and I felt marginally better. Dakota was right. Taking sex out of the equation was important. While it was a critical part of determining compatibility with a man, it shouldn’t be the determining factor—case in point: Nix. We had chemistry in bed—though nothing compared to what I’d shared with Maddox—but he was a shitty human being. What separated the men from the boys was whether they could stand by your side when life got tough, if they could help carry your burdens when they grew too heavy to handle alone.

If I really thought about it, Maddox had tried to do that. Some might view his fight with Nix as irrational jealousy over an ex-boyfriend, but it was more than that. He wanted to protect me from the man who tore me down and made me feel like less. He wanted to prove to me that I was worth more than a casual fuck.

I was scared—scratch that, I was terrified—of what opening up my heart might mean, but Maddox had given me no reason to doubt him. As upset as I was that he’d left me wanting tonight, I couldn’t deny Dakota’s point that a lesser man wouldn’t have stopped. They would have sought sexual gratification, not caring about what came after. That alone set Maddox apart.

If I needed further proof, there was that first road trip with the team, when he was there for me. I could only imagine Nix telling me how dramatic I was being and to suck it up. But not Maddox. He’d taken care of me, not only in calming my panic and talking through my fears, but after we landed, when he’d demanded that I be treated for my self-inflicted wounds.

The evidence was mounting that Maddox was unlike any man I’d encountered. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized he deserved a fair chance to show me what an equal partnership looked like.

But not before I had a little fun with him first . . .

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 18

Maddox

Walking away from Bristol was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do, but it was what she needed. If I was going to prove I was nothing like her dipshit ex, I had to put her first.

She was struggling. Not just from what he had put her through for years, but from the other night when he’d tried to force her to agree to another night. He was selfish, and it was imperative that she see that I was nothing like him.

Dressing in front of her as she stared at me in disbelief while I laid all my cards on the table, I could see that she felt unwanted. But nothing could be further from the truth. I wanted her so badly that I was willing to step back and let her sort out her emotional baggage. Sure, it could backfire and she might write me off for good, but I was willing to take that risk.

In the days following our late-night encounter at her place, she’d slipped back into her professional role, as did I. She asked her questions, and I answered. However, I did notice the tiny hint of animosity she held for me was notably absent.

That had to be a good sign, right?

Before, there was always a slight edge of irritation when she spoke, like she was annoyed that interacting with me was a necessary evil to do her job. Now, she was more neutral. I could spend hours overanalyzing what that meant, but I would likely drive myself insane.

So, instead, I focused on work.

We were heading out West to play the California teams, and I needed the Speed to be ready. That meant my time at the rink was used to prepare the team, and at home, I was immersed in film study until my eyes grew tired from staring at a screen for hours on end.

It would take some getting used to the fact that my nights were no longer my own in this new role. More hours working for less pay, but I wasn’t the talent. I was only guiding and preparing them.

Now, the only thing holding me back was my mind. It was difficult for my brain to grasp that I would never get another chance to gear up and play at the highest level. Even when I instructed my players during a game, coaching them how to respond based on the situation they faced, there was a nagging voice in the back of my head saying: I could have done it better. I would have reacted quicker.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t let go of unfinished business. I wasn’t sure enough time would ever pass to ease that ache.

As promised for their victory over the Comets, I bought the first round in the hotel bar once we landed in San Francisco.

It was possible that I had a hard time letting go of my career because I still felt like one of the boys. I stayed away from Pipes, but on the road, I went to team dinners when invited and grabbed drinks at the bar with my players during hotel stays.

Before my taking over at the helm of the Speed, a clear line had been drawn between the staff and players. I could honestly say that I’d never hung out with a coach over the course of my career. But Jared kept harping that they chose me because I was close to the players. So I wouldn’t let doubts nag at me that I was doing something I shouldn’t. If anything, it tricked my mind into forgetting the tragic events that had forced my retirement for a few hours.

Jenner and I were perched at a high-top table near the back, placing bets on which players would end up leaving with one of the plethora of bunnies who had recently arrived, looking for a night of no-strings sex as we passed through town.

This might be a new vantage point for me, but it wasn’t for my best friend.

Jenner had come into the league attached to his then-girlfriend, Evie, who now was his ex-wife. So he’d always been the quiet observer while the rest of us single guys picked up chicks. I had to say, it was interesting watching the guys work. Some were smooth—their flirt game was strong. Others made sure to buy a prospective bed partner a few drinks, not bothering with more than a flash of a credit card and mention that they were professional hockey players.

It really made me wonder whether I’d looked as ridiculous as they did. And was the sex really that good that women didn’t care about how shallow it made them seem?

There was no connection, no substance, just a string of meaningless hookups.

How had it taken me this long to realize that?

While I was lost in thought as I sipped my beer, my phone buzzed in my pocket. On autopilot, I pulled it out, bringing it into my field of vision. I frowned when I saw a text message from an unknown number.

Swiping a finger across the screen, I unlocked my phone.

Unknown Number: Your face and dick are both so pretty that I don’t know which one I want to ride first.

Beer sprayed from my mouth as I read the filthy text.

“What the hell?” Jenner yelled, wiping at the droplets of spit and beer that had landed on him.

“Sorry,” I muttered, clutching the phone to my chest to hide the screen.

He eyed my protective hold on my cell. “Care to share with the class, Mr. Sterling?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice.

Eyes wide, I shook my head. “Nope.”

A corner of Jenner’s lips turned up. “Oh, come on. It’s gotta be something good to get such a reaction out of you.” He held his hand palm up in front of him, wiggling his fingers in a gimme motion.

With no name attached to the text, what did I have to lose? I sighed, handing over my phone.

Jenner’s eyes lit up from more than the glow of the phone screen. “Whoa, baby. Coach is getting laid tonight!”

I scoffed. “Yeah, right. I don’t even know who sent it.”

“Whoever it is, they know you. How else would they get your phone number?”

He was right; most of us had unlisted numbers and also took the extra precautionary step of having our service providers block our number on caller IDs. When we called someone who didn’t have our number saved, it read as No Caller ID. It was a tiny layer of protection in keeping our personal lives private.

“Think it’s some bunny in San Fran? One that wants an encore?” Jenner asked, returning my phone.

Just then, we heard the sound of female voices snickering nearby. My head snapped up, searching the small bar for the source. It didn’t take long to lock eyes with Bristol, seated near Alyssa, on the other side of the room. When I raised an eyebrow, shaking my phone, she folded her lips inward, trying her hardest not to smile.

“I think I know who it is,” I mused.

Jenner followed my line of sight and groaned. “Is that seriously still going on?”

I shrugged. “Depends on your definition of ‘going on.’ As you can see, I don’t even have her phone number.”

He let out a heavy exhale. “Really thought you’d learned your lesson after the fucking bar fight.”

“It’s not what you think,” I argued.

“Sure it’s not.” Jenner rolled his eyes. “The sexting is pretty telling.”

“I care about her, okay?” I needed my best friend to understand. “And if you need more proof, I went over to her place a few nights ago to check on her after what happened at Pipes. We ended up naked, but I walked away. I want more than a few meaningless fucks. There’s something between us, a pull I can’t explain. But she’s still messed up from Nixon. So, I told her to take her time and sort it out. That I’ll wait until she’s ready.”

Jenner snorted. “Looks like she got over it pretty fast. A few days?”

“She’s young and headstrong,” I explained. “And beyond gorgeous. Having a guy stop right before the point of no return was probably a blow to her ego. But it had to be done. She can send all the naughty texts she wants. I know she’s not ready yet.”

Impressed, he sat back in his chair. “Damn, look at you all grown up. Turning down guaranteed sex? That’s not the Maddox I know.”

“You know how it is. Sometimes, the right girl can knock you right on your ass.”

A shadow passed over his brown eyes before they dropped to look at his hands, where he absentmindedly rubbed a thumb over his left ring finger. “Yeah, I do know.”

Way to go, Maddox, making the poor guy think about his wife and how much he misses her.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun with her, though,” I offered, trying to shift the mood back to a more playful one.

Jenner grabbed his beer and took a swig before nodding. “What did you have in mind?”

I smirked. “She’s not the only one who can send dirty texts.” My fingers were poised over my phone screen, but I was drawing a blank. “What should I say?”

His eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Don’t look at me! How would I know?”

“I just assumed you had experience.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Coach, but video calls are where it’s at.”

I cringed. “Yeah, didn’t need that mental image.”

Jenner snapped his fingers. “Oh! You know who would be good at this?”

“Who?”

“Braxton!” he declared.

I was ready to tell him that was a terrible idea, considering Braxton was not a fan of Bristol and me being together, when the man himself spoke from behind us. “You two talking about me?”

Fuck me. This wasn’t going to end well. I ran my hands through my hair, mentally preparing for the backlash.

Jenner was oblivious to my distress, turning in his seat to face Braxton. “Yeah, we need help, seeing as you’re going to marry someone who writes sexy lines for a living.”

Braxton smirked. “If she says yes.”

“She’s going to say yes,” I grumbled.

“Anyway.” Jenner waved a hand. “Our coach here needs help coming up with a sexy comeback to a text he just received.”

One of Braxton’s dark eyebrows rose. “Okay . . . What are we dealing with here?”

I held my phone in a death grip, but Jenner pried my fingers loose, chiding, “Come on, don’t be shy.”

Glaring at my best friend, I threatened, “Just remember who’s in charge tomorrow on the ice.”

Freeing my phone, he replied, “Punish me all you want. We’re doing this.”

Jenner handed Braxton the phone, letting him read the message. He stared at the phone far too long for such a short text, and I began to sweat. The last thing I needed was for him to make a scene in the crowded bar.

Brows furrowed, he mused, “I’ve seen this before.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

Braxton placed the phone on the table, pointing at the screen. “These words. There’s something familiar about them.”

Jenner and I stared at him expectantly, until finally, he gasped.

“What is it?”

With his whiskey-colored eyes trained on me, the lids narrowed dangerously. “Dakota wrote this.”

I held my hands up in a gesture of surrender, shaking my head. “Look, man. I want nothing to do with Dakota, I swear.”

Jenner grabbed the phone, reading over the words again. “Oh shit, he’s right!”

Did he seriously just throw me under the bus? I knew Bristol had sent the text, not Dakota. A misunderstanding of this level would be a disaster. A coach accused of fucking around with his players’ girls? If I was looking for a way to fuck up my new career, that was a surefire way to do it.

One glance at my look of sheer terror, and Jenner’s head dropped back as he laughed. When he recovered, he pointed in my direction. “You should see your face.” My chest rumbled in annoyance. “No one is saying you’re messing around with Dakota. When Braxton says she wrote this, she did—in one of her books.”

Relief washed over me so forcefully that the edges of my vision darkened. “Jesus. Thanks for the heart attack, guys.” I punched Jenner’s arm. “And since when have you been reading romance novels?”

His brown eyes sparkled mischievously. “What can I say? The girl can write some good porn.”

Braxton snatched my phone from Jenner, tapping on the screen. “Fuck, Maddox.”

“What?” I tried to play innocent.

“The Hartford exchange on the number is hard to miss. What the hell happened? Because the last time I checked, Bristol was not at all interested in you, and now she’s sending you dirty messages, which I can only assume are meant to get you into bed.”

“Would it help if I said I wasn’t going to give her what she wants tonight?” I asked hopefully.

“No, because that girl will get what she wants. If not tonight, another one. And because I know you’re interested, it’s only a matter of time.” He sighed. “I get it. She’s young and cute, but if you hurt her, I’ll be forced to take out your good knee.”

Jenner leaned over to stage-whisper, “I think he’s serious.”

“Fuck off.” I nudged his shoulder, forcing him back into his seat.

Braxton ran a hand through his hair. “She’s been through a lot.” I opened my mouth to tell him I knew that already, but he continued before I could. “I think it bears mentioning that I lived with Levi Nixon.” Just hearing that fucker’s name had my fists clenched beneath the high-top table. “The way he talked about her behind her back paled in comparison to how he treated her.”

Through gritted teeth, I growled, “Should have killed him when I had the chance.”

“And don’t think I’m not grateful for you looking out for her the other night. But you have to remember that Bristol is important to me too. Without her, I wouldn’t have landed the love of my life. So, I have a soft spot for her. I always will. She’s my future wife’s best friend, and she came out to Indy all alone. I’ve taken it as my responsibility to look out for her.”

“I’m not looking to hurt her, Braxton,” I vowed.

Jenner chimed in. “Yeah, he looooooves her.”

“Shut the fuck up!” I whipped around to yell at him, drawing the attention of a few patrons gathered near us.

He shrugged. “Just stating facts. Not my fault you can’t own up.”

Braxton gripped my shoulder, turning me to face him. “Seriously?”

I blew out a breath. “I have feelings for her. I wouldn’t go so far as to categorize them as love.”

“Not yet,” Jenner taunted from behind. “But I’ve seen this show before.”

I bit back a retort asking how well that had worked out for him, knowing it wasn’t his fault his marriage had fallen apart.

Without asking, Braxton grabbed my beer and drained it. Slamming the empty glass onto the table, he huffed out, “I’m gonna need something stronger.”

“You and me both,” I muttered.

Holding up a hand, I signaled a passing waitress, ordering us a round of whiskeys. The only unfortunate side effect was I couldn’t drink the damn liquor without getting hard at the memory of drinking it with Bristol. If we were going down this sexting path, I was going to end up with a raging boner anyway, so what did it matter?

Once the lowball glasses containing two fingers of whiskey each were placed before us, I asked, “Okay, so what should I message back?”

Braxton sipped his drink. “How about we leave me out of this?”

Jenner scoffed. “Whose team are you on?”

A pained groan sounded loudly from our young friend. “Fuck me. I thought I left all that behind in Hartford.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

He dropped his head, explaining, “The girls versus guys teams. It was kinda their thing.”

“Whose thing?”

“The Comets, or more accurately, Jaxon and Natalie’s core group. Fair warning: the girls always win. Hannah’s mildly terrifying on her best day, but give her an objective? She’s like a dog with a bone; she won’t rest until she gets what she wants.” He gave me a smirk. “You know about that, don’t you, Maddox? Heard you two had quite the run-in a few years back.”

A shudder racked my body. “Don’t remind me. Dodged a bullet on that one.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well. There’s a mostly sisterless pack of women in Connecticut who always stick together. And if this evolves into something more than a few text messages, I’d lay good odds that they get involved here too. Dakota’s one of them, and Bristol is an extension of her.”

“Great, so I’m not just messing around with one girl but four?”

Braxton snorted. “Try seven. You’re forgetting about Benji’s partner and Natalie’s sisters-in-law. Good luck to you, man, because you’re gonna need it.” He clapped me on the shoulder before walking away with his drink.

Jenner stared at Braxton’s retreating form. “So, I guess that’s a no to helping?” He shrugged, turning back to our target across the room. “Eh, we don’t need him. We’ve got this in the bag.”

“Says the man who didn’t know what to say the last time I asked him.” I took a sip of whiskey, letting it burn a path down my throat.

“Okay. I got this.” I picked up my phone and typed out a reply.

Baby, I can’t wait to make you squirt again. My cock is dying to play in the sprinkler.

It wasn’t long before a strangled shriek sounded from across the room, and I leaned back, taking in the view of a red-faced Bristol and Alyssa covering her mouth with both hands as her wide eyes stared in my direction. The second I raised my glass in a cheers gesture, she averted her gaze, and a flush crept up her neck.

Curious beside me, Jenner asked, “What in the world did you say to her?”

I flashed him a peek at my screen, and he choked on his own spit. Amused, I patted his back as coughs rattled his chest.

“Holy shit. Did you actually make her squirt?” His voice was rough from the coughing fit.

Sipping my whiskey, I murmured around the rim of the glass, “What do you think?”

Jenner cleared his throat a few more times. “Fucking legend.”

My phone vibrated, and I glanced down to read her reply.

Bristol: Next time I suck your dick, I’m putting your legs on my shoulders.

I’ll take it as my responsibility to practice safe sex. I’m gonna tie you to the bed so you won’t fall off.

Bristol: When you’re around, I don’t wanna feel butterflies flapping in my stomach. I wanna feel your cock.

Your pussy is my favorite midnight snack. The cravings are so intense I have the phantom taste of you on my tongue.

Bristol: I wanna be choked and pounded into the mattress while you spank my ass raw as you call me your good little girl.

That last text from Bristol had me standing so abruptly that my chair clattered to the ground. My cock was throbbing behind the fly of my jeans, and my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. Raking a hand down my face, I managed to mouth, Well played, to Bristol across the room. Seeing her triumphant smile was worth it.

I turned to leave as Jenner said to my back, “Where are you going?”

“Gotta take a cold shower. See you tomorrow, buddy.”

I wasn’t sure a cold shower would be enough to tame the beast within tonight. She was testing my restraint, but I reminded myself it was mind over matter.

I could keep my hands off her long enough for her to come to terms with her past.

Or at least, I hoped.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 19

Bristol

Watching Maddox read my texts from across the room in San Francisco was satisfying, especially when the last one elicited a physical reaction so strong that he had to walk away.

Since I’d made my peace with attempting a relationship with him eventually, I decided there wasn’t much point in keeping our brief history from Alyssa. I was still sitting with Braxton on the plane rides, but as soon as we landed, I grabbed my only female friend on the road and spilled my guts. We video-chatted with Dakota in my hotel room and devised a plan: send naughty texts to Maddox and see if we could get him to bite.

In the back of my mind, I knew it was too soon for him to think I was ready, but it would be fun to rile him up.

And it worked. I mean, the man was so hung you could’ve seen that erection from space, let alone the other side of the dimly lit hotel bar. And he wasn’t the only one turned on by our sexy exchange. The second I got to my room, I had a little one-on-one time with the detachable showerhead.

The game against the San Francisco Bridgers went well. They were a strong team, but the Speed players executed their matchups and minimized turnovers while capitalizing on any mistakes their opponent made. Everyone was riding high on the short flight late at night as we moved toward LA for a game against the California Cougars.

While the team was amped up after the win, hitting the town once we landed, I went straight to my hotel room. An idea hatched in my brain on the flight, but I needed a little help setting it in motion.

Hoping to catch Dakota before Braxton called her for whatever intimate time they shared while he was on the road, I propped my cell on the desk and hit the video call button beside her number.

It rang only twice before she answered, the glow of her computer screen illuminating her face in an otherwise pitch-black room.

She didn’t bother to stop typing as she asked, “You guys make it to LA?”

“Yeah.” I smiled at her preoccupied state. “Book coming along?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The sound of the keys being pressed furiously filtered through the phone.

“I sure hope you give Braxton a little more eye contact when he calls you,” I teased.

Laughing, she stopped typing and looked directly at me through the screen. “Oh, come on, Bristol. You know I give him a lot more than ‘eye contact’.” She threw in a wink for emphasis. Leaning back in her chair, she gave me her full attention. “What’s up?”

I chewed on a corner of my lower lip. “I was hoping you could call in a favor for me.”

“What’s the favor?”

“Do you think you could reach out to Lucy and see if she could get me a private shopping session at the Arabella Reign LA location?”

Lucy Remington was Natalie’s former sister-in-law, but they were still very close. Not only was she a princess, but she was a world-famous fashion designer. Arabella Reign was her secret baby, an insanely popular high-end lingerie brand. Formerly only sold online, it had grown to be carried in select boutiques, then to the point of her being able to open dedicated storefronts in the world’s largest cities.

A devilish gleam entered Dakota’s eyes. “Oh, I’m sure Lucy would be happy to help. I’ll text her as soon as we get off the line, and hopefully, she’ll get back to me when she wakes up. Dawn is only a few hours off on the East Coast.”

“You’re amazing. Thank you.”

The picture cut out on my screen, and Dakota declared, “That’s Braxton calling. I gotta go. I’ll let you know when I hear from Lucy.”

“Have fun with your man. Love you!”

“Night!”

She hung up, and I allowed myself a moment to picture what I was going to do if Lucy agreed to my request.

Maddox wouldn’t know what hit him.

A text awaited me from Dakota when I woke up the following morning.

Dakota: Lucy says she got the store to shut down between three and five this afternoon just for you. Get whatever you like. It’s her treat. All she asks in return is that you tell her about it when we go to Connecticut in a couple of weeks since I gave her the bare bones of your current mission.

That was more than I could have ever asked for. Shutting the store down and turning away customers in a busy location was already going to cost her, but for her to offer me a free shopping spree? It was almost too much. I owed her big time.

Let her know how much I appreciate it!

Dakota: Will do!

I could barely think straight through the team’s morning skate. Thankfully, Alyssa was willing to share her notes because my head was not in the game. While the team was on the ice, I texted Maddox, so he’d have a little surprise waiting for him when they were done.

Free this afternoon? If so, maybe you could meet me at 9652 Wilshire Blvd? I’ll be there around three.

We were waiting to be debriefed after practice when his reply came through.

Maddox: Are you trying to lure me to a sex club, Miss Cooper?

Fuck, my thighs clenched at reading his use of my formal name, hearing the way he said it in my head.

How many sex clubs do you know of that are open at three in the afternoon?

Maddox: I wouldn’t put it past you to find one that is.

Guess you’ll just have to show up and find out, then. *Shrugging woman emoji*

His green eyes were blazing during his brief remarks to the press, and I shifted restlessly the entire time, trying to ease the ache his intense gaze stirred within me. This plan could totally backfire. Prancing around in lingerie was meant to get him to cave, but I knew if I let him put his hands on me, talk dirty in my ear, I would be the one begging instead of him.

Here goes nothing.

I had a plan. And it was a good plan, one I felt confident in until I heard Maddox’s voice through the intercom talking to the saleswoman as he stood on the street, unsure if he had the correct location.

My hands shook as I assessed my appearance in the floor-length mirror of the private dressing area at the back of the store. Even the glass of champagne offered to me upon arrival wasn’t enough to ease the nerves.

Maddox had seen me naked, more than once. But standing scantily clad in sexy lingerie, I knew I was poking the bear—teasing a man who’d made it clear he wanted me, not only for my body but for my soul.

What are you worried about? You’re trying to push him past the breaking point, remember?

Filling my lungs with a deep breath, I let it out slowly. What was the worst that could happen? He didn’t fall at my feet? The tension between us finally broke, and he acted on it? I was prepared for both scenarios.

“Bristol? Are you back here?” Maddox’s skeptical voice grew nearer.

Striking a seductive pose, crossing my heel-clad feet and leaning with one hand against the wall, I purred, “Back here, baby.”

The red curtain separating the dressing alcove from the shopping area was pushed aside, and Maddox appeared, but he froze when he saw me. His burning green gaze started at my feet; I could feel the heat of it traveling up my thighs, pausing where my pussy was barely concealed by lace before skimming over my heaving breasts and landing on my face.

I gave him what I hoped was a sexy smirk. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, running a hand down his handsome face.

“Are you going to stand there all day or come inside? I have so many outfits to try on and need a man’s opinion.” I spun around, letting him see that the back of the one-piece I wore featured a thong.

His guttural groan was music to my ears, and I relished that small victory. Plucking two items off the rack inside the room set up for me, I returned to where he stood, now just inside the curtain, the erection tenting his pants making my belly flip. It was almost as if I could still feel his size, the power with which he yielded the appendage between his thighs. Fuck, if I didn’t want anything more than to experience it again.

Raising the hangers holding scraps of fabric that passed for lingerie in my hands, I asked, “What do you think? Red or black?” I bit my lip. “Maybe both? They are Speed colors, after all.”

A strangled noise rose from his throat as he reached for me, but I shimmied away, shaking my head. “Not so fast, big guy.” I nodded to the velvet upholstered couch in the center of the room. “Sit.”

Like a good boy, he fell into the seat, no doubt conditioned from an early age to follow orders. I bit back a smile at how eager he was to please.

Sauntering to the area designated for changing, I delighted in sound of his heavy breathing. I hadn’t felt this confident in forever, but I was slowly coming back to myself. I wasn’t sure if the space from Nix spurred the transformation or if it was the man behind me. Either way, I was glad to be back.

Reaching the curtain meant for privacy, I tossed the hangers on the settee inside before spinning around to face Maddox. Gripping a fistful of the fabric in each hand, I leaned forward enough that my breasts threatened to spill out. His hungry gaze, combined with the white-knuckle grip on the cushions near his thighs, told me he was barely holding on.

I’d spent a little time before his arrival with the saleswoman, choosing items to try on. If he was this close to breaking already, I knew just the piece to send him over the edge.

“No peeking,” I teased in a sultry voice before pulling the curtains together and obscuring me from his view.

The room was bursting with nearly everything in the store. Lucy was incredibly talented but kept this part of her career secret. I could only imagine why. She lived a high-profile life and wanted to protect the image of her family. But I could respect her need to dive into this area of fashion. Who didn’t love to be naughty every once in a while?

Peeling the one-piece from my body, I reached for the one I knew would drive Maddox wild. Men loved the idea of lingerie, sure, but the end game was getting women naked. This next item featured easy access, so you didn’t need to remove the garment to have a good time.

Once I was certain I had all the straps in the right place and did a quick check in the mirror, messing up my hair to give the appearance of being freshly fucked. Then I took a deep breath, ready to face the man waiting for me.

“Ready or not, here I come,” I purred seductively.

Instead of throwing the curtains wide for a big reveal, I teased him a little through the space where they met. First, I slid a bare thigh out, my fingertips trailing from my knee to my hip. The rumble that sounded from his chest had my heart skipping a beat. There was only so far I could push him before he broke. But fuck, if I wasn’t ready for him to punish me.

There was no denying I wanted him. It was a good thing everything I planned to model for him was already paid for and coming home with me, or I’d end up in debt with the amount of lingerie that would be ruined by my arousal.

Showtime.

Taking a steady breath that did nothing to calm my racing heart, I stepped into the waiting area.

Those green eyes that had captivated me since the night we met were nearly black, his pupils eating away at the emerald irises. A lesser woman might’ve been frightened by the feral, predatory look on his face, but not me. I was desperate to have his hands on me again, his cock stretching me to the limit as he pounded into me. It was all I could think about; it was taking up all the available space in my brain.

“Fuck, Bristol.” His voice was strained. “You look fucking incredible.”

I chewed a corner of my lower lip as I fought a smirk, taunting, “Good enough to eat?”

Those beautiful eyes slid closed as his head tilted back with a groan. “I know what you’re doing.”

“And what’s that?” I eased closer, hoping to gain the element of surprise.

“You’re trying to tempt me into touching you, going back on my word to wait until you’re ready.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “So fucking tempting.”

“Baby, I’m right here. All you have to do is reach out and grab me. Stop fighting what we both want.”

Using his lack of sight to my advantage, I propped one heeled foot onto the seat beside his thigh, widening my stance with my other foot firmly planted on the ground. When he opened his eyes, a sexy little surprise would be waiting for him—one that no red-blooded man would be able to resist.

Releasing a sigh, he lifted his head, but whatever words were poised on the tip of his tongue died the moment he saw my bare pussy on display.

Crotchless lingerie for the win.

A smug smile crept onto my lips, and I teased, “Cat got your tongue?” Clicking mine, I mused, “Would be a damn shame since I’d kill to have it buried between my thighs. The thought of it is keeping me awake at night.” My voice grew breathy as I begged, “Please, Maddox. Just a little taste.”

Lightning quick, he stood, and I stumbled backward as his chest brushed mine. A hand circling my upper arm kept me steady.

This was it. I’d finally done it. Gotten him to take action. My thighs clenched as my clit throbbed, knowing he was about to put me out of my misery.

What I wasn’t expecting was for him to march me halfway across the room, stopping once we reached a wall of mirrors. Holding my shoulders, he made me face forward as he stepped up behind me, his large frame dwarfing mine, even in heels.

I leaned against his chest as my body trembled, my knees threatening to give out. The anticipation was overwhelming, and I craved a release only Maddox could provide. Getting off on my own wasn’t scratching the itch. I needed him and only him.

His burning gaze met mine in the mirror as he brought a hand to my hip, his head dipping beside my ear. “Do you see how good we look together?”

“Yes,” I breathed out, tempted to close my eyes but unwilling to miss a minute of the erotic sight playing out before me in the reflective glass.

Maddox’s other hand trailed a path up my arm, the featherlight touch setting a fire beneath my skin, and I moaned, my head lolling back against his shoulder. Finally, settling that massive palm over my exposed sternum, he pulled me further into his embrace until our bodies were completely flush.

His erection pressed into the small of my back, and I tried to rub against him, to drive him as insane with lust as he made me, but he kept his hold firm, not allowing any movement.

Voice husky and low, he rasped, “Can you feel what you do to me?” I could only whimper in response. “My cock can sense his home is near. He wants to come out and play.”

“Please.” I wanted nothing more than for him to fuck me in this dressing room. I was so ready.

“Hmm,” he hummed in my ear.

The vibrations of his chest pressed to my back had me clutching onto his forearm, banded across my chest. I needed an anchor.

That arm shifted beneath my touch, his eyes never leaving mine as his hand encircled my throat, putting pressure on the arteries he found right under my jaw. The slight restriction of blood flow only heightened my arousal.

“Is this what you wanted when you texted the other night? For me to choke you?”

My lips parted, but I couldn’t manage to speak.

His teeth tugged on my earlobe before musing, “What was the other part of the message? Something about doing it while I pounded into you, spanking your ass raw? You know just what I like to hear, don’t you, love? You’d do almost anything to be my ‘good little girl.’ Isn’t that right?”

I involuntarily swallowed against his palm, and a sexy smirk lit up his face.

“That’s what I thought.” He tsked. “But you underestimated me, sweetheart. I’m not going to bend you over and fuck you raw. Not today, anyway.” When I whined, he tightened his grip on my throat. “But I will grant your request for me to taste your sweet pussy.”

I sagged in relief. I was willing to compromise if he put that skilled tongue to use. It was better than nothing.

Maddox slid the hand holding my hip over my stomach as his foot kicked my legs wide. Using two fingers, he spread me open, making sure I could see my pussy in the mirror.

“That’s the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen in my life, Bristol. And I’m just fine waiting because I know it already belongs to me.”

When my eyes drifted closed, he barked, “Eyes open!”

I jumped in his hold at the harsh tone he used.

“I want you to watch as I fuck you with my hand. I want you to witness what I already know to be the most beautiful sight on Earth—you coming on my command. Only then can you appreciate my level of restraint. Because it’s fucking addicting. And seeing it in my dreams doesn’t compare to the real thing.”

I’d started this; now, I had to finish it. Even if I was about to pass out, my head swimming with the lack of oxygen and overwhelming lust.

“Now, if there are no complaints, I’d like to see about getting that taste to tide me over.”

Our eyes remained locked as he dipped his fingers through my slit, brushing over my clit. My gaze dropped to his hand, watching as he ventured further between my thighs. There was a sharp hiss in my ear as he brought his hand back out, letting the wetness coating his fingers glisten in the harsh lighting of the room.

“Fucking drenched for me, aren’t you, love?”

A sigh escaped my parted lips when he brought those fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. The satisfied hum he let out left no doubt that he enjoyed the taste of me. Until now, I couldn’t help but wonder in the back of my mind if his insistence on going down on me was only aimed to impress, but the expression of pure ecstasy on his face when he smacked his lips put that subject to rest.

Maybe karma was finally coming around to reward me for putting up with guys who had treated me like shit when their dicks weren’t buried inside me.

Who was I to question hitting the jackpot with a man who cared not only about my emotional well-being but my physical pleasure?

Seems too good to be true, don’t you think?

“Hey, where did you go?” Maddox’s voice softened.

My eyes shifted from his face to mine in the mirror, where twin lines had formed between my brows.

When I cleared my throat to respond, telling him I was fine and not to stop, his hand fell away, and I knew instantly that getting lost in my thoughts had broken the spell he’d been under.

A chill met my back when Maddox stepped away, putting space between us.

Noooooooooooo.

My heart sank as he said, “I’m sorry.”

Spinning around, I closed the gap, throwing my arms around his neck in desperation. “Please, don’t say that.”

A heavy sigh had his chest kissing mine, but his gaze was full of tenderness. “I want all of you, Bristol. And right now, you can’t give me that. I understand. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait as long as it takes until you can truly be mine.”

My vision blurred, and I stepped back, turning away so I wouldn’t be further humiliated by having him see me cry. It cut deep that he didn’t want me now, that he thought I was broken in some way, and it didn’t matter that he was right. If he cared about me like he said he did, wouldn’t he want to help put me back together instead of letting me figure it out on my own?

There was the sound of rustling fabric and a whoosh of air at my back, almost as if he reached for me but decided against making body contact at the last second.

“Go get dressed. Bring that little number back out with you, and I’ll buy it for you. I want you to save it for when I finally claim your body again.”

Without a word, I closed myself inside the curtained dressing room, sinking onto the settee and silently sobbing as the hot sting of rejection took hold. I’d been so sure this plan would work that I hadn’t considered that I would be leaving this store unsatisfied or, worse, sad that my past was ruining my chance of a decent future.

When was Nix going to stop ruining my life?

Wiping the tears away, I took a few calming breaths, hoping my skin would return to its normal pale color instead of its current blotchy red state. When it became clear that wouldn’t happen any time soon, I dressed in the street clothes I’d worn to the shop and left behind the black lingerie. Instead, I grabbed a pair of long-sleeved silk pajamas and pushed through the curtain.

One look at my face, and Maddox’s transformed into one of anguish. Good, let him see what this push and pull was doing to me. He didn’t get to pretend to be a white knight and expect me to be grateful when he pushed me away, regardless of his motives.

“Bristol . . .” My name hung in the air, but I shoved past him into the showroom.

Silently, he trailed behind me until I reached the counter where the saleswoman, Melissa, stood waiting with a smile. “Find everything all right?” She smartly elected not to bring attention to the fact that I was a hot mess after spending God knows how long alone with a hot man in the dressing room of a lingerie store.

“Yes, thank you.” My voice was thick from my private crying session.

I laid the navy blue button-up set on the counter, and she gushed, “Oh, I just love this one. It’s a beautiful color to complement your eyes.”

I dipped my head, not in the mood for small talk. We had spoken earlier, and she knew that everything left behind in the dressing room was to be sent to my hotel later that evening.

Maddox stepped up to my side, a black credit card dangling from his fingertips. “Put it on my card.”

Melissa’s eyes shifted to me, and I gave a slight shake of my head. She plastered on a bright smile and waved him off. “It’s already been taken care of.”

He turned to face me, but I kept my eyes trained straight ahead. “Why won’t you let me buy this for you? I said I was sorry. Let me do this small thing.”

I swallowed before replying, “Someone else beat you to it.”

Finally, daring to peek at him, I saw the disbelief etched on his face before anger flared behind those green eyes, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Care to explain who is buying you a two-hundred-dollar set of silk pajamas?”

Shrugging, I had no qualms about riling him up after what transpired in the dressing room. “Someone who cares about me more than you do.”

Plastering on a fake smile, he held up a finger to Melissa, muttering, “Just a minute,” before dragging me far enough away that we wouldn’t be overheard.

My earlier sadness switched to anger at his possessiveness, and I crossed my arms, ready for battle. “Is there a problem?” I goaded.

Maddox ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Is this my punishment for giving you time to heal? Why won’t you listen when I tell you it’s for your own good.”

I rolled my eyes, laying the sass on thick. “You might be significantly older than me—”

“Significantly is a stretch,” he protested.

“But I don’t appreciate being treated like a child. I already have a dad.”

He crowded my space, forcing me to crane my neck to maintain eye contact. His voice lowered to one resembling a growl. “I had my hands on your bare pussy mere minutes ago. I think we can rule out any type of fatherly thoughts.”

Scoffing, I stepped back. “I’m capable of knowing what I want. I don’t need you to tell me.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “And what is it that you want, Bristol? Other than for me to fuck you into next week?”

Damn. I cursed the flash of heat that pooled between my thighs at the mental image his dirty words conjured.

We’re mad at him now, not turned on! Get the message!

Yeah, yeah. There’s a fine line between love and hate, girlfriend. If he told you he changed his mind and wanted to fuck you, you’d have no hesitation in spreading your legs.

That thought sparked inspiration.

I stomped to the back of the store, where there was a special secluded section featuring a variety of sex toys. Lucy had brokered a partnership with an adult novelty company called Desire Selects. It was genius, really. Yes, women might be buying lingerie to impress or excite a partner, but many couples implemented toy use in the bedroom. Cashing in on that combo was a brilliant business move.

Too pissed off to care that whatever I selected would be seen through the X-ray machines at security when we flew first to San Diego and then back to Indianapolis, I grabbed a flesh-colored realistic-looking dildo, the biggest size they had. Not stopping there, I picked out a clit suctioning toy next. After an evil smirk back at Maddox, my final selection was a jewel-tipped butt plug.

Let him stew on that while he’s jerking off alone in his hotel room later.

Walking confidently back to the counter, I handed over the items. “These as well, Melissa. Thank you.”

Nodding, she tried not to smile, likely having overheard our conversation—I had gotten a little loud. Handing me a bag overflowing with tissue paper carrying the Arabella Reign logo, I thanked her before exiting the store. Beverly Hills bustled around us, and I pulled my phone out of my purse, intending to call a car.

“Let me.” Maddox stepped up beside me.

“No, thanks.” I typed the hotel’s address into the app.

He let out a heavy breath. “We’re going to the same place.”

“I need space. Isn’t that what you wanted? For me to be alone?”

“That’s not what I said . . .”

“Careful what you wish for,” I shot back.

Good job proving you’re not a child . . .

My car approached, and the driver rolled down the passenger side window, calling out, “Bristol?”

“Yep, that’s me.” I stepped toward the vehicle waiting at the curb.

Before I could reach the handle of the backseat, Maddox opened the door for me. Even if I was mid-tantrum, my manners were hard to overrule. “Thank you,” I grumbled, sliding into the car.

Leaning inside, he placed his lips beside my ear, and his following words sent a shiver down my spine.

“Make sure to think of me tonight when you’re alone in your room because I’ll be picturing all the dirty things you’re doing to yourself while I’m stroking my cock three doors down.”

He placed a chaste kiss on my cheek before sealing me inside and giving a mock salute as we drove away.

Holy mother of God.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 20

Maddox

Tonight was a re-do. Not just for me, but for Braxton. The last time he’d attempted to propose to Dakota, I’d ruined it. This time, the risk of a run-in with Levi Nixon was low, as the momentous occasion would take place at the home of Jaxon Slate, with the Speed in Hartford for their upcoming match against the Comets.

Jenner and I shared a car over to the suburban Connecticut mansion. The Slates were gracious hosts, asking everyone to arrive several hours earlier than the couple. It had the feel of a surprise party instead of a proposal.

“How nervous do you think Braxton is?” I joked with Jenner on the ride over.

“Considering some big brute ruined the last one, I’d say doubly nervous that you’ll be in attendance again.” The humor in his voice was audible, even though I couldn’t see him well in the darkened backseat.

I bumped shoulders with him. “Shut up.”

“But seriously. The fact that he wants an audience? The boy’s got balls of steel. I’ve never been more terrified than when I was down on one knee. You think you know the answer, that it’ll be a no-brainer, but there’s this tiny second of doubt before she says yes when you think the world might end if she doesn’t. Pretty sure I stopped breathing and was about to piss myself.”

“Wanna place bets on whether he cries at the wedding, though?”

“Fuck off,” Jenner huffed. “You’ll see what it’s like if you ever stop fucking around long enough to settle down. That moment when you see the love of your life standing at the end of the aisle is the same one when you realize your life is finally about to begin. It’s indescribable. Anyone with a soul would bawl like a baby.”

I’d been the best man at Jenner’s wedding. There was nothing but love between that couple. It was a damn shame that factors beyond their control tore them apart. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done if I were in his position—there was no winning or losing, only endless heartbreak.

“Yeah, maybe,” I said as we pulled up to the house.

Jenner stepped out with a whistle. “Damn! Must pay really well to be the face of the league.”

Thanking the driver, I exited the vehicle to view the mega-mansion for myself. Its stone exterior gave off castle vibes, and that’s when something triggered in the back of my mind.

“Wasn’t his wife royalty or something?”

A snap sounded by my side. “Shit, you’re right. Forgot about that.”

I purposely avoided mentioning that you needed tons of space with five kids. That would only reopen wounds my best friend was struggling to let heal.

Stepping up to the double doors at the entry of the home, I knocked, but after a few minutes, no one answered. I could hear the hustle and bustle inside, so I cracked one side of the door open hesitantly.

No wonder no one had heard my knock. There were people everywhere, talking over one another.

Opening the door wider, Jenner took a peek and chuckled. “I don’t think they’ll even notice if we slip inside.”

Our hosts were nowhere to be seen, so we crossed the threshold and stepped into the gathering of guests to witness a beautiful display of love later in the evening.

I had to hand it to the Slates; they knew how to throw a party. Not only was their house magnificent but they had cater waiters passing through the crowd, offering hors d’oeuvres and champagne, with small standalone bars set up throughout the space.

Despite the rivalry between our two teams, the Speed and Comets mingled. Braxton might be the common denominator tonight, but many of these guys had played together in the past or currently trained together during the offseason. But you’d never know it when our teams clashed on the ice.

Jenner clapped me on the shoulder. “I’m gonna grab a drink. You want anything?”

“Yeah, a whiskey neat is fine.” I would never admit it out loud, but the drink would forever remind me of Bristol and our first night together, and tonight, I wanted to feel close to her.

Stepping through the crowded room, I nodded to a few Comets players I knew, chatting with those from the Speed. While I was usually more social, there was one woman in attendance I needed to find. I could sense her presence, and until I laid eyes on her, I wouldn’t be able to breathe.

I fully expected Bristol to be socializing with Dakota and Braxton’s tight-knit group—the same group that had saved my ass the night of the fight at Pipes—so I stopped short when I spied her sitting alone on a large sectional, bouncing a baby in her lap.

Dressed in a cream sweater and black faux leather leggings, she was stunning. But if I was being honest, she always was.

Leaning against a pillar separating the living room from the kitchen, I watched her interaction with her tiny companion. Bristol’s face was visible from her seated position, and the expression of pure joy as she held the baby high over her head before bringing it back down to the sound of giggles, had my heart threatening to burst. She was a natural.

Kids had never been on my radar. Hell, settling down, period, hadn’t been. Not until now. Not until her.

Bristol walking into my life changed everything I thought I wanted.

Suddenly, I could picture her with a little redheaded baby in her arms instead of the blond one she held. I was guessing it was a boy from the blue overall set it wore, but you could never be sure. Most guys wanted a miniature version of themselves, but I couldn’t think of anything better than having a tiny version of Bristol looking at me like I’d hung the moon, like I was her hero.

A glass was pressed into my hand, and I assumed Jenner had returned with my whiskey. Paying him no attention, I brought it to my lips, my brows furrowing when I tasted scotch instead.

I was just about to turn around and roast him for getting a simple drink order wrong, but the voice that spoke did not belong to my best friend. “It’s scary how your life can flash before your eyes when you meet the right woman, isn’t it?”

Jaxon Slate stepped up beside me, nodding his head in the direction of Bristol.

“Is it that obvious?” I asked, wondering if the entire room could see my thoughts written on my face.

He chuckled. “Only to someone who has been exactly where you’re standing now. I knew the moment I saw Natalie that she was meant to be mine. It didn’t matter that she was married or had a baby already. I could just feel it, you know?”

I sucked in a breath, rubbing across the ache in my chest. “Yeah, I do.”

“So, why are you standing here watching her when you could be over there? You have an advantage I didn’t have. She’s available, and from what I can tell from when we came to Indy, she’s got feelings for you.”

Sighing, I sipped my scotch. “It’s complicated.”

“Love usually is,” Jaxon remarked. “But it’s always worth fighting for.”

“Even if we didn’t work together, people will think she’s too young for me.”

Shrugging, Jaxon replied, “If I cared about what people thought, I would never have taken on a single mom. ‘People’ don’t have to live your life. They can have an opinion all they like, but as long as the two of you are happy? Screw everyone else.”

He had a point, but I still had hang-ups. Well, more accurately, Bristol did.

“She’s dealing with a lot,” I explained.

“If I can offer a word of advice?” I nodded, so he proceeded. “There’s no magic spell that can erase the damage a bad ex leaves behind, even long after he’s gone. Patience is key, letting her deal with it at her own pace and being supportive no matter what. It takes time, and even years later, the triggers remain. The trauma of being mistreated will never leave her; it’ll resurface when you least expect it. Your job is to be there for her through it all. Be the one she can depend on, even on her bad days. That’s what she needs, but she’ll never ask for it.”

Jaxon spoke as if he knew from experience. And maybe he did. I didn’t know much about his wife’s ex-husband, but it couldn’t have been an amicable split for Jaxon to have adopted the man’s children.

But if what he said was true, I’d done the exact opposite. I’d pushed her away, telling her what she needed instead of asking how I could support her. And if the look on her face outside that lingerie shop in Beverly Hills were any indication, I’d hurt her with my rejection.

She hadn’t spoken to me since that day—outside of a handful of interview questions with lots of witnesses present—and dread settled in my gut. In trying to decide I knew best for her, had I lost my chance?

My chest felt tight, and I struggled to breathe as the thought of losing her sank in.

“Fuck, man,” I breathed out. “I think I messed this all up.”

“Been there. But the one thing I learned? You’re not going to fix it by keeping your distance. If you want her, go get her. She’s right there.”

“Thanks.” I downed the rest of my drink and handed the empty glass back to him.

Heart racing like a teenager approaching his first crush, I moved toward the redhead who had turned my world upside down.

Bristol was so engrossed with the baby in her arms that she didn’t appear to notice when I sat down opposite her on an adjacent loveseat.

“Who do we have here?” I reached out to tickle the baby’s tummy.

If she was still angry with me, it didn’t show. I might have to thank the chubby cutie in her arms for being the perfect distraction.

There was a longing in her brilliant blue eyes when they met mine, and she gave me a soft smile. “This is Theo Mason. He’s Benji’s baby.”

“Ah.” I nodded. “Another future all-star, then.”

“Probably.” Her light laughter rolled over me. I was itching to switch seats to sit beside her, but I had no right after the way I’d treated her. “They’ve got hockey sticks in hand before they can walk around here.”

I chuckled. Several Speed players who were fathers had come and gone during my tenure with the team. Family skates with the team were great moments when the kids got to come out and play. You were hard-pressed to find a player’s child who couldn’t skate from a young age. They all wanted to be like their dads, including the girls. Jaxon’s daughter, Charlie, was a prime example of that, and I knew she would take advantage of the rapidly expanding girls’ game.

Staring at the woman I was quickly learning I didn’t want to live without, I asked, “So, you do like kids?”

Confusion flickered across her face. “What made you think I didn’t?”

Shit. Had I put my foot in my mouth again? Why couldn’t I get this right with her? I’d been so smooth the night we met.

Yeah, because there was nothing on the line other than sex. It’s more now.

I pulled on the back of my neck. “Um.” Clearing my throat, I realized I was in too deep now to cover my ass, and the truth was the best course of action. “When we were in Pittsburgh, I made a joke about a secret love child, and you said that was your nightmare.”

Bristol’s eyes widened, and her mouth parted. “You remember that? It was months ago.”

Shrugging, I laid my heart on the line. “I remember everything about you, Bristol.”

Her breathing hitched, and she stood suddenly, tucking baby Theo into her side. Glancing around the room, she seemed almost panicked as she rushed to say, “I need to find his parents. Excuse me.”

Turning her back on me, she scurried away, leaving me alone and no closer to figuring out how to fix whatever had been growing between us. I dropped my head into my hands, letting out a heavy exhale.

Who knew relationships could be so difficult?

Jaxon received a text from Braxton, letting him know they were on their way back from the Comets’ practice rink. I guess they had a history there, so that’s where he decided to take her before proposing.

When they got closer, Natalie dimmed the lights, turning them off completely once the audible sound of a car door shutting reached us.

The plan was simple. We waited in the dark and let Braxton handle the rest.

Excited energy buzzed through the air as we waited, anticipation growing higher with each minute that passed before the couple entered the house.

Bristol had elected to surround herself with the Comets WAGs since our brief interaction on the couch, but I made sure to have my eyes on her at all times. Even in the dark, with the moonlight casting a slight glow through the wall of windows behind us, I kept my gaze on her instead of turning when the front door opened.

Dakota’s voice echoed in the two-story foyer. “Where is everyone? They said we were having a girls’ night when we were done with our date, didn’t they?”

Braxton latched the door behind them, and their footsteps grew closer. “Maybe they’re out back on the deck?”

If the loss of my sight hadn’t heightened my sense of hearing, I might not have noticed the way his voice took on a slightly higher pitch. My young player was nervous, but he needn’t be. Dakota loved him. Anyone with eyes could see it. There was zero possibility that she turned him down when he asked her to marry him.

Now, if only I could get Bristol to look at me like that.

“But why are all the lights off?” Dakota questioned, confused.

Braxton brushed her off. “You know how it is. Those big windows right next to the deck. Gotta turn off the lights; otherwise, it’s too bright to enjoy the fire.”

“Maybe . . .” She didn’t sound convinced.

He chuckled. “Would it make you feel better if I turned them on?”

“Please,” Dakota breathed out. “Just until we find everyone.”

There were three soft taps on the wall near what I assumed was the light switch, a silent signal for everyone to get ready. Then the lights came on.

A smirk crept onto Braxton’s face, and he threw his arms wide, seemingly pleased with himself. “Found them!”

Dakota stared at the gathering in shock. She tucked her head into Braxton’s chest, trying to hide, before finally finding her voice. “What’s going on? It’s not my birthday.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, pulling her into the center of the room.

She tried to dig her heels in, but she was no match for his strength and was powerless to stop their trek as they became the main attraction.

Braxton cupped his girlfriend’s cheek, acting as if they were the only two people in the room. “The last time wasn’t quite right. While we had some of our tiny little family present, we were missing some pretty important pieces.”

A wrinkle formed between Dakota’s brows, and she shifted her gaze to Bristol, mouthing, The last time? Bristol gave a slight shake of her head before indicating with a hand that she should turn her attention back to Braxton.

While Dakota was occupied, Braxton had dropped to one knee, a velvet ring box held in his hand.

A soft gasp filled the silence, and Dakota breathed out, “Oh my God.”

With his free hand, Braxton gripped one of hers. “I told you a long time ago that we would always end up here. It was just a matter of when. It wasn’t always easy, and we’ve been through some rough patches, but we came out stronger than ever. I knew that you were special the moment I saw you, and you’ve proven me right every day since. There’s no one else in this world I want to spend the rest of my life with, to build a family with.”

He cracked the ring box open, revealing a glittering diamond. Most of the women in attendance were swooning at the romantic scene before them. Hushed gasps mixed with whispered “aws” as hands found a resting spot over their hearts.

“Dakota Elise Danielson, will you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife?”

Tears slid down Dakota’s cheeks, but she nodded her head as the tiniest of sobs escaped her lips. “Yes.” The single word was said so softly you could barely hear it.

Braxton jumped to his feet, pulling her into his arms and kissing her passionately.

Hannah called out, “Save something for the wedding night!” and everyone chuckled as the pair broke apart.

Cheers sounded as he slipped the rock on her finger.

It was a beautiful moment, and I watched as Bristol’s lower lip trembled before she placed a hand over it, turning and weaving through the crowd. I tracked her movements, noting that she slid out the glass door to the deck.

My feet made the decision to chase after her before my mind caught up.

It was time to make things right between us.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 21

Bristol

Watching my best friend get engaged was so special. I was beyond happy for her, but I couldn’t help but be a little bit sad for myself.

What if I never found that kind of love?

The silly, naïve girl I used to be had thought she’d already found it. Only to be proven very, very wrong.

Maybe I’d made a mistake somewhere. Men thought they could take advantage of me because I liked sex. Was that really so terrible? Did that make me less valuable than any other girl? I’d heard all the stories about girls with a stick up their ass who wouldn’t put out. Guys seemed to hate it. But then there was me, who was admittedly easy, and they didn’t want that either.

What the hell did they want? Whatever it was, I needed someone to tell me because I was tired of feeling this way—like I wasn’t good enough to earn a decent man’s love.

Before I knew it, tears were burning behind my eyes, and I knew I had to get out of there before I ruined Dakota’s big day for the second time with my emotional baggage. My vision blurred as I murmured, “Excuse me,” to those standing between me and a door that led onto the massive back deck.

The cold December air was a shock, and I gasped but pressed on, even as I shivered with no coat. Closing the glass door behind me, I was finally alone.

Alone. That seemed to be the theme surrounding my life these days.

Nix had cast me aside, which was fine—I was better off. But Maddox keeping me at arm’s length stung. He’d made his intentions clear, then flipped a switch, saying I wasn’t ready for what he had to offer.

The more time I had to think about it, the more it seemed like he was really saying that he didn’t want to deal with the messy parts of me, the broken shell of a girl trying to put her life back together. He was only interested in a version of me that I wasn’t sure would ever exist—a strong woman who wasn’t overthinking everything in an attempt not to be hurt again.

The first tear slipped down my cheek, and I didn’t bother wiping it away. Maybe letting them loose would cleanse the bad energy surrounding my life.

Why couldn’t I catch a break? Why couldn’t I be unapologetically me and have a man love me for it? It didn’t seem fair.

Life’s not fair.

I knew there was more to life than being on the arm of a man. I had a career, one that I loved. So, even if I did find “the one” someday, I wouldn’t give it up. Maybe my need to be loved came from reading about it daily in Dakota’s books. Those men were incredible, but perhaps the cynics were right—maybe they did set unrealistic expectations.

“Bristol, you’re shivering.” Maddox’s voice sounded behind me, concern bleeding into his tone.

Great, this is just what I need. Him finding me in another moment of weakness.

Hands gripped my upper arms, spinning me around. Rubbing vigorously to warm me, he abandoned that idea and ripped off his suit jacket, still dressed from the plane ride to Hartford.

“Here, take this,” he offered, placing it over my shoulders.

I peeked up to meet his tortured green gaze, and a fresh wave of pain shot through me. He was gorgeous and kind, but I wasn’t good enough for him. At least, not in his mind.

“Thanks,” I muttered, dropping my eyes to the ground.

His fingers gripped my chin, not allowing me to look away. “What’s wrong?”

I swallowed. “Nothing.”

Maddox let out a heavy sigh. “It’s not nothing. You’re out here in the freezing cold without a coat, crying right after your best friend got engaged.”

“Would you believe me if I said I was crying happy tears?”

“Nice try.”

Closing my eyes briefly, I said, “It’s stupid.”

He shifted his hand to stroke a thumb over my cheek, wiping the tears away. His voice softened. “No, it’s not. Talk to me, Bristol.”

Eyes fluttering open, I could almost convince myself he was being genuine—like he really did want to hear my inner thoughts and fears—and I might have, if he hadn’t used my insecurities as an excuse to push me away.

With nothing left to lose, I said the words aloud. “I’m so happy for them. It’s just . . .”

Maddox nodded in understanding before finishing my sentence. “You wish it were you.”

“Yeah.” Shame coursed through my veins at being selfish on my friend’s big day. “I’m sure you think that makes me a horrible person.”

“Of course not,” he said. “It’s a natural human emotion to be envious, even of those closest to you.”

Suddenly, I was tired—tired of the push and pull between us, the constant switch between hot and cold. I needed to know where we stood so I could move on with my life, one way or the other.

Sighing, I asked, “What are we doing, Maddox? You said you didn’t want to play games, but it feels like we are anyway.”

He tucked a piece of hair that had blown into my face behind my ear. “What do you want to be doing?”

I huffed. “Right there. More games.” I tried to pull away, but he held firm, keeping me in his arms.

Maddox searched my eyes. “You know what I want.”

“Right.” I rolled my eyes. “You want me to snap my fingers and erase all the bad things that came before.”

“No. I thought I was doing the right thing, giving you space, but I know now that was the last thing you needed. I should have offered to carry your burdens instead of expecting you to shoulder them alone. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t a better man for you. I never meant to hurt you.”

A lump lodged in my throat when he pulled me against his chest, offering comfort. I held him tight, needing an anchor, overwhelmed by his words of apology and understanding.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispered against the top of my head.

“Honestly?”

“Always. Please.”

I took a steadying breath, preparing to lay my soul bare to the man holding me close.

“I’m terrified I’ll end up shattered again. I don’t trust my own judgment anymore.”

The silence stretched between us, and I started to mourn a relationship that had never gotten the chance to properly form.

But then he took a half step back and captured my face in his hands.

“Those are valid concerns. And I can’t make any promises. Life is unpredictable. There’s no telling what external forces might threaten to tear us apart down the road. But what I can do is tell you how I feel.”

I blinked up at him, nearly holding my breath, awaiting his next words.

“You’re not the only one who’s scared. I find myself searching for you in any room I enter. It’s easier to breathe when I know you’re near. I’ve never felt such a strong connection with anyone, and it doesn’t make sense how I could share it with you almost instantly. That night at the bar, I was drawn to you. Every cell in my body screamed for me to get closer. That morning after we were together, I fought the urge to leave my number, even when I so desperately wanted to. I wanted to respect your wishes, but the thought of never seeing you again killed me. It was a shock and a relief to see your beautiful face only hours later in that press room.

“The universe put you in my path not once but twice. There must be a reason it keeps throwing us together. How about we stop trying to question it?”

He really felt that way about me? That we were somehow meant to find each other out of the billions of people milling around on this Earth?

Still trying to wrap my head around his conviction, I couldn’t help but tease, “You never struck me as the type to believe in fate.”

“I’m not.” A smile curved on his handsome face. “But I’m not going to ignore the signs that some force greater than us believes we belong together.”

“Maddox?”

“Yeah, love?”

“I think you better kiss me now.”

A relieved sigh split the still of the night. “With pleasure.”

Unlike all the other times we’d locked lips—where it was frenzied as we raced toward the ultimate goal of sex—this time, Maddox took his time, savoring the moment. His forehead pressed to mine as his hands gently caressed my cheeks. Our breaths mingled as our mouths drew so close that I could feel the phantom brush of his lips.

I let out a shaky breath of anticipation. I didn’t want to rush this moment; it felt bigger than us, like our lives were about to change forever.

Maddox’s lips ghosted over the corner of mine as I clung to him, threading my fingers through his hair, not urging him closer, just holding on for dear life.

One brush of his lips. Two. Then a third before our mouths fused.

I parted for him instantly, but Maddox was in no rush, acting as if we had all the time in the world. The tenderness of our kiss made me dizzy. No one had ever kissed me like this, just like they’d never put my pleasure first in bed.

The evidence was mounting that Maddox was different. In so many ways.

He tugged my lower lip between his teeth, and I moaned, pressing my body flush against his. I could feel his erection pressed to my belly, and I rubbed against it as the ache grew between my thighs. I was desperate for more.

Maddox dragged his mouth along my jaw, teasing the skin of my neck with his teeth. I shrugged the suit jacket away, bordering on overheating. That gave him access to my shoulder, bared by the neckline of my sweater.

“Fuck, Bristol. You’re a goddamn dream come true.” His breath was hot in my ear as he whispered those words.

Looping my arms around his neck, I hitched a leg around his thigh before grinding against it. Maddox took the hint, sliding his hands over my ass to grip the back of my legs and lifting, pulling me into his strong arms.

I was jostled slightly as he carried me across the length of the deck. I gasped when my back met with a freezing cold stone wall but groaned when Maddox pressed closer to pin me against it, the ridge of his cock lining up perfectly between my open thighs.

Fuck it. I didn’t care where we were. I needed him now.

“Please, Maddox.” My breathy voice betrayed my desperation.

“What is that you need, love?” His hands drifted up from my waist to brush the swells of my breasts.

“You.” I sucked in a sharp breath when he tweaked a nipple. “Please.”

He let out a low chuckle. “You look so pretty when you beg.”

I moaned, my head lolling back against the side of the house. He was teasing me, and I was ready to combust.

Two can play at this game.

“I bet I’d look even better on my knees with your cock in my mouth.”

“Jesus Christ,” Maddox hissed. A hand tangled in my hair, forcing me to meet his gleaming green eyes in the moonlight. “Maybe later, baby.”

That was the last thing he said before his mouth slammed onto mine, and all traces of softness vanished. His tongue demanded entry, battling mine with practiced strokes, setting me on fire. His grip on my body grew punishing, skirting the line of pain, but I didn’t want him to stop.

His cock strained against his fly as he ground against me, sparking the flames that grew hotter with each passing minute. I was fairly certain if I didn’t have him inside me soon, I would die. That’s how badly I needed him.

“Bristol? Are you out here? Oh shit. My bad.” A familiar feminine voice broke through my lust-induced haze, and I froze.

Maddox had the same reaction, breaking the kiss and turning his head to glare at whomever had interrupted us.

I tracked his gaze to find Hannah standing five feet away with a “cat caught the canary” grin on her face. Of all the people to find us like this.

She gestured a hand toward where Maddox still had me pressed against the side of the house. “I see we’ve moved past the denial stage. Please, proceed.”

With both hands anchored on my waist, Maddox slid me down his body until I was set on my feet. My legs were unsteady, so I held onto him to make sure I didn’t collapse and embarrass myself further.

“Shame.” Hannah clicked her tongue in disappointment.

“What do you want, Hannah?” Annoyance laced Maddox’s tone.

“Apologies again, lovebirds. The bride-to-be was searching for her maid of honor, and I thought I spied her sneaking out onto the deck.”

Shit. Dakota was looking for me? And in an official wedding capacity? I could already imagine the girls were pouring over their calendars, trying to find a date that worked best for the ceremony.

That was the reminder I needed to snap me back to reality.

“I should go,” I whispered, stepping out of Maddox’s arms.

“Bristol—” Whatever he was going to say died on his lips, and he let me go.

When I got close enough to Hannah, she lowered her voice. “Did that feel as hot as it looked?”

I blew out a heavy breath, murmuring, “Oh yeah.”

“Well done,” she praised as I headed for the door.

From behind me, I heard Maddox mutter, “Always a pleasure, Hannah.”

“Oh, I know.” Her resulting laughter tickled the back of my brain, reminding me that even if they hadn’t taken things as far as Maddox and I had, there had still once been an attraction, and even now, there was a familiarity between them.

Would there ever come a time when the idea of there being “other women” didn’t bother me? I sure as hell hoped so, or I was screwed.

Maddox had offered to share a ride back to the hotel, but the girls had begged me to stay behind and join them in their post-party girls’ night. When he rubbed at the center of his chest, his eyes swimming with the uncertainty of leaving me behind, I was reminded of his words on the deck.

“It’s easier to breathe when I know you’re near.”

Had he really meant it? Was it truly painful for him when we were apart?

And then there was the biggest question of them all: why me?

Guys knew I was down for a good time, so they never took me seriously, but now, here was this seemingly mature man who wasn’t shy about sharing how deeply he cared about me.

Honestly, I didn’t know how to react. This was all so foreign to me.

Reluctantly, Maddox gave me a sad smile, nodding as he accepted my decision, and told me he’d see me tomorrow at Comets Arena.

The minute the door shut behind him, Hannah pounced, demanding, “All right, spill.”

Dakota’s brows drew down in confusion, even though the permanent glow of happiness never left her bright eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Hannah’s lips curved into a wicked grin. “You want to tell her, or shall I?”

I groaned, throwing back the contents of my wine glass. I held it out for a refill, and Natalie was quick to pour me a healthy serving before offering, “You know, it’s better if you share the details yourself. Hannah has a habit of embellishing for dramatic effect.”

Placing a hand to her chest in mock indignation, Hannah huffed, “I would never!”

Lucy snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

Hannah bit into her lower lip to hide a smile. Holding her index finger and thumb close together, she admitted, “Fine. Maybe just a little.” She spared me a glance, adding, “But our young friend doesn’t need any help in that department. Isn’t that right, Bristol?”

When I glared at her, Dakota snickered. “I remember a time when you were sooooo jealous that I was friends with Hannah. You’re definitely getting a lesson in being careful what you wish for.” She pointed a finger in Hannah’s general direction. “Forget secrets or private moments; Hannah’s all up in your business. And as you’ve already learned, moving halfway across the country doesn’t slow her down.”

Hannah tapped an impatient foot. “We’re waiting . . .”

I took another too-large sip of wine. “It was no big deal. Hannah happened to catch Maddox and me making out on the deck earlier. That’s all.”

Dakota’s blue eyes widened. “Wait. He finally broke?”

“Not exactly.” I still wasn’t sure what to make of his confession.

Lucy held up her hands, halting any additional questions. “Does this have anything to do with me shutting down Arabella Reign for you?”

My free hand flew to the bridge of my nose, pinching against the headache beginning to form. “Yes.”

Hannah jumped in. “Oh, please tell me you gave him a private little lingerie show and then got down on your knees to pray to the altar of his hot-as-hell body.”

“If only.” I scoffed.

“It didn’t go well,” Dakota explained.

“Correction: it started off great, but nobody got a happy ending—if you know what I mean—and I ended up taking my own car back to the hotel for some alone time. By the way, Lucy, you’re so smart for adding sex toys to your storefronts.”

Lucy beamed with pride. “Thanks. But I’m confused. You were prancing around, wearing next to nothing, and he didn’t pick up what you were putting down?”

“He started to. I mean, a crotchless teddy is hard to resist. But then he put a stop to things when he remembered that I’m still dealing with the demons left behind by Nix.”

Sympathy shone in Natalie’s warm brown eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I waved a hand. “It’s fine. Guess it’s what I get for letting him use me for so many years. I’m paying for it now.”

Hannah’s lips twisted in thought. “This doesn’t make any sense. He rearranged Levi’s face because he said or did something to you in that karaoke bar in Indy. Maddox wasn’t keen on learning that’s who your ex was, but still. He’s seriously punishing you for getting sucked in by a sleazeball who had no problems bragging about how he was using you?”

I averted my gaze as shame burned at hearing her say everyone knew what a fool I’d been for staying with Nix. I could only imagine what these women must think of me, especially since they were all happily attached to good men.

The other redhead in the room, Amy, raised her hand. “I’ve got this one. Only because when I was too close to the situation myself, I couldn’t see it for what it was.” Her green eyes, almost as vibrant as Maddox’s, met mine. “He’s trying to protect you. Am I close?”

Stunned, I stared at the group before me. Their tight-knit reputation was something to be coveted, but until this moment, I hadn’t been able to appreciate how each of them came with a different perspective wrought from life experiences that made them a valuable asset when you felt your life was crumbling.

“Uh, yeah. That’s exactly it,” I said in a daze.

Dakota crossed the room, plopping down beside me and looping an arm around my shoulders. “Crazy how, no matter what, someone knows how you feel, right?”

I huffed out a laugh. “It’s kinda freaky.”

Liv had a sleeping Theo tucked against her chest. “You’ll get used to it. Took me a minute.”

Amy gave me a knowing smile. “Does he think he’ll hurt you? Is that why he’s keeping his distance?” The way she said it made it seem as if that had been the hangup with her husband.

“No.” I shook my head. “He thinks I need space to sort out my shit.”

Her eyebrows rose. “He said that?”

I shrugged. “Not exactly. I think he’s worried he’s gonna end up being my rebound from Nix, and he wants more. I believe his exact words were, ‘I’m happy to wait until you’ve shed the past’.”

Natalie sighed. “So that’s what Jaxon was talking about.”

“Excuse me?” I was lost again.

“He mentioned something about Maddox not understanding that past trauma isn’t easily overcome, especially not alone. They must’ve had a chat at some point.”

The pieces clicked into place. “That tracks. When he followed me outside, he apologized, saying he should have offered to help carry the burden instead of sitting on the sidelines.”

“So, you two are good now?” Dakota hedged.

“Maybe? We shared this really great kiss that someone interrupted.” I slid a side-eye to Hannah, who didn’t show any signs of being apologetic. “And I think he was upset when I didn’t leave with him. I don’t know where we go from here.”

My best friend leaned her head on my shoulder. “I think when we get home, the two of you really need to talk. It seems like you have pieces of conversations but never a full one. Don’t become one of those couples who think they can read the other one’s mind. It never ends well.” Humor filled her voice. “And people hate a miscommunication trope. Believe me.”

That got me to laugh, and I hugged her. “You’re right. Thanks for setting me straight.”

When we pulled back, she smiled. “Maybe someday, I’ll be the maid of honor in your wedding. Or matron. Is that how it works?” She looked to the other ladies for clarification.

I shoved at her shoulder. “Let’s get through your wedding first, okay?”

She smirked, admiring the beautiful diamond ring gracing her left hand. “Fair.”

Tonight, my emotions had been all over the place, but for the first time since moving away from Hartford, I felt hope.

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Chapter 22

Maddox

Sleep eluded me as thoughts of Bristol filtered through my mind.

Was she thinking of me, or had that life-altering kiss already been forgotten?

In the darkness of my hotel room, I checked the bedside clock for at least the hundredth time in the last two hours. It read: 3:08 AM.

Fuck, I would be dragging tomorrow. I didn’t even get the benefit of taking a nap pre-game like the players anymore. No, my afternoon would be spent making last-minute line adjustments and reviewing film on the Comets with my coaching staff.

Groaning, I sat up in bed, rubbing both hands over my face. Desperate to turn off my brain, I threw on athletic shorts and a T-shirt before lacing up a pair of sneakers on my feet. The hotel gym was open 24/7, and a few hours spent pushing my body to the point of exhaustion was my only hope of passing out tonight.

I snatched my cell phone and key card, tucking both in my pocket, before I opened the door, but stumbled back in shock.

With her hand raised like she was preparing to knock, stood Bristol.

A gasp slipped from her lips when the door opened without warning. When her eyes met mine, her cheeks pinkened, drawing my attention to her beautifully make-up-free face and the barely noticeable freckles along the bridge of her nose.

Since she was stunned speechless, I took the lead. “Hey. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathed out.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I asked, even though the answer was obvious.

She nodded.

“Me neither. Sorry if I scared you by opening the door. I was headed to the gym, hoping to wear myself out.”

“Oh.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she took a step back. “I’ll let you go.”

When she turned to leave, I panicked, snaking a hand out to snag her wrist and spinning her to face me.

“Please don’t,” I begged.

“You want me to stay?” The hope shining in her eyes was enough to bring me to my knees. I knew at that moment I would give her the world if she asked for it.

“More than anything,” I confessed.

“Okay.” Bristol dipped her head, allowing me to tug her inside my hotel room.

I turned on a lamp. It cast enough of a glow that we could see each other without being too harsh in the middle of the night.

Gesturing to the armchairs in the corner near the window, I offered, “Care to sit?”

“Sure.” She crossed the room, dropping into one and tucking her legs beneath her.

Sitting opposite her, I dared to touch the fabric of her navy silk pajamas. They were the same ones she’d bought when we were in LA. “These look comfortable.”

That got a tiny smile out of her. “And modest too. Couldn’t be roaming the halls this late at night in any of the other items.”

I cocked my head. “Other items?” As far as I could recall, she’d left the shop with only the PJ set she was wearing and the sex toys that had fueled my fantasies of getting a chance to use them with her.

Bristol bit her lower lip, trying to hide a smile and failing. “Um. Nearly every piece in stock in my size was delivered to the hotel later that evening.”

My eyes bulged. “Everything?” If a pair of pajamas cost two hundred dollars, one of everything had to be in the thousands.

She nodded in confirmation.

Jealousy churned in my gut, remembering she’d said someone else was paying for her purchase.

Jaw clenched, I gritted out, “Who’s your mysterious benefactor?”

“A friend.” Bristol shrugged, her eyes avoiding mine.

“A male friend?” Fuck, I sounded like a possessive asshole. But I couldn’t help it.

“Would it really bother you if it was?” she asked earnestly, without a hint of sass.

“Fuck yes.” My voice was strained, chest tight at the thought of her with another man.

“Why?”

I ran a hand through my hair, which was likely sticking up in all directions with how I’d been restlessly rolling around in bed for hours wide awake, thinking of her. “Because I care about you, Bristol. I meant what I said earlier. I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you lately. If you’ve moved on, I won’t cause further emotional distress by pulling you in another direction. That’s the last thing you need right now. It’ll kill me not to fight for you, but I’ll respect your decision. It’s your life, not mine. But I can tell you, I’ll regret losing you for the rest of my life.”

She sucked in a sharp breath before whispering, “There’s no one else.”

At her admission, I sagged in my chair, relief washing over me. “So, there’s still a chance for us?”

“What is ‘us’?” Bristol challenged. “I’m serious. How do you see this working out? It’s not strictly against the rules for us to date, but it’s severely frowned upon. I would be forced to come clean to my editor. I won’t be the woman hidden in the shadows. Not again.”

“I would never ask that of you,” I vowed. “But you would be willing to risk your job? For me?”

She dipped her chin, peering at me through her eyelashes. “Isn’t that what you did for me? That night at Pipes? Taking Nix on could have cost you everything, but you did it anyway.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“No.” She shook her head. “It was personal with him, and we both know it. You could have chosen the high road, let him walk away after he ran his mouth. But you wanted to hurt him for hurting me.”

“Yes.” I couldn’t deny it.

Bristol took a deep breath. “Okay. When we get back to Indy, I’ll set up a meeting with my editor. Then we can give this a shot. See where it takes us.” A yawn split her face. “I think I’m ready for bed now.”

She stood to leave, but I jumped up to stop her. “Will you stay?”

Raising an eyebrow, she eyed the bed. “I don’t know . . . I’d prefer we get everything out in the open before we jump back into”—she made a circular motion over the bed—“all of that.”

I flashed her a smirk. The weight constantly settled over my chest had finally lifted. “As tempting as that is, I was just hoping to hold you. But if you’re not interested—”

“That sounds nice.” She cut me off.

Leading her to the bed, I pulled back the covers. She crawled beneath them, and I quickly followed. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Bristol wiggled a bit, trying to find a comfortable spot on the mattress. “Sure.” A teasing tone entered her voice as she added, “I promise not to use it in one of my articles.”

For that, I tickled her side, and she squealed.

Pulling her body flush with mine, I took a deep whiff of the floral scent of her shampoo still lingering in her hair. Nipping at her earlobe, I relished the shiver that I could feel with how closely I held her.

“I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since the first night we were together,” I confessed.

“That’s the secret?”

“Mmhmm.”

She was quiet for so long that I wondered if she’d fallen asleep. I was almost there myself when she said softly, “The girls paid for the shopping spree.”

My eyes popped open. “Who are ‘the girls’?”

“The Comets WAGs and friends.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Guess Braxton was right.”

Bristol turned in my arms. Her eyes searched mine in confusion. “About what?”

“He said something about not wanting to go to war against Hannah and her crew. That it was a losing battle.”

A sleepy sigh fell from her lips, and she snuggled her head into my chest. “Yeah, they’re kinda awesome like that.”

“I’m glad you have people you can count on.” I stroked her hair as her breathing leveled out.

Once I was sure she was fast asleep, I added, “But I’m here now to take care of you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

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Chapter 23

Bristol

I paused on the sidewalk, staring up at the office building in downtown Indianapolis that housed the Indy Sports Review.

Being a smaller publication, only covering sports, they required little office space with most correspondents in the field, traveling with their assigned teams. As a result, the Indy Sports Review offices only took up half of one floor for editorial and marketing staff.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath through my nose, letting it out from my mouth. I could do this. I was a big girl. I was doing the professional thing, disclosing a relationship that could be seen as a conflict of interest to my superiors and willing to deal with the consequences. That had to count for something, right?

As I pushed through the revolving glass doors, my heels clicked on the polished floor in time with my heartbeat. It likely wouldn’t settle until after my meeting with my editor, and maybe not even then—the outcome was still uncertain.

Thankfully, the elevator was empty, and I leaned against the back wall, pressing a hand against my queasy belly.

Was I really doing this again? Risking it all for a man? Had I learned nothing?

Maddox is different. You know he is.

I clung to that thought as the ding signaled my destination. Stepping out, I turned to the right and pushed through the glass door to an office full of gray cubicles. One side of the space had offices with doors, and a conference room was visible on the other.

I hadn’t been here since my interview. There hadn’t been much need as I submitted my articles electronically each day. I was grateful that I had the opportunity to be in the field; this place was kinda depressing.

“Miss Cooper!” my editor, Barry, shouted from where he stood in the open doorway to his office near the back.

Tipping my chin in recognition, I walked to where he waited, offering, “Bristol is fine.”

He gave me a tight smile. “We’ll leave it at Miss Cooper for now, shall we? Can never be too careful when a female subordinate is involved.”

I cringed, well aware that sexual harassment was prevalent in a male-dominated field such as sports reporting. With a greeting like that, this meeting should be fun.

Barry gestured for me to precede him into the office but left the door open when following me inside.

Jeez, he’s being really careful. Does he have a personal history of taking advantage of women?

My skin crawled at the thought. Shaking off the bad vibes, I sat in the seat opposite his desk, placing my purse across my lap.

Leaning back in his desk chair, Barry asked bluntly, “Are you pregnant?”

Pretty sure my jaw hit the floor, but I managed to shake my head. “No.”

“Hmm.” He tapped the chipped, wood-print vinyl lining the top of his desk. “Usually, that’s why the ladies request an in-person meeting. To quit because they’re starting a family. So, now I’m intrigued, Miss Cooper. What brings you here today?”

I swallowed, and my knee bounced, betraying my nervousness.

When I remained silent, Barry checked his watch pointedly. “I’m sure we both have better things to do today than stare at each other.”.

“I came to disclose that I’m involved in a relationship with Maddox Sterling.”

Barry’s bushy eyebrows shot up high on his forehead. “As in . . .”

Was he really going to make me say it?

“As in, the head coach of the Indy Speed.”

Instead of reprimanding me—telling me all the reasons why a relationship between someone I interviewed and reported on for a living was wrong—a sinister grin appeared on his ruddy face.

“Look at you. I have to say, I’m impressed. Though I shouldn’t be surprised, a young thing like you catching the eye of an older man.”

And there it is. The door is open, but that doesn’t stop him from being a pig.

“Excuse me?” My tone was sharp, my voice raising in volume.

Barry seemed to remember himself and wiped the salacious smirk off his face before clearing his throat. “Right. Well, I’ll admit I knew you’d have off-the-clock access to the team, but this exceeds my wildest expectations. I hired you because we needed a woman on the sports staff after the last one left”—he made a gesture in front of his own gut to indicate a pregnant belly—“and your connection to Braxton Slate was too good to pass up. Plus, we know the players can’t resist a cute girl and would likely give you the best interviews. But this goes beyond. A relationship with the new head coach? You’ll have the inside scoop.”

I bit back a retort as he admitted to openly ignoring my qualifications when hiring me. I knew my looks had played a factor in beating out more experienced candidates—I wasn’t stupid; even though it wasn’t right, that’s how the world worked—but to hear that he expected me to abuse my friendship with Braxton made me feel gross. Even worse, he assumed I would get privileged information from Maddox in the form of pillow talk.

Not gonna happen.

It was time to set this creep straight.

Crossing my legs, I lifted my chin. “If you think I have any intention of exploiting my relationships, with either players or staff, you are sorely mistaken. I pride myself in maintaining journalistic integrity, and I feel like my articles to this point have proven that. I’m not willing to compromise that, even if it’s at the expense of my current position with the Indy Sports Review.”

Barry huffed out a laugh, and the tiniest flicker of respect entered his eyes. “I may have misjudged you, Miss Cooper.”

I did a little victory dance inside my mind for having stood my ground and come out on the other side alive—at least, that’s how it seemed.

I stood, making it clear that I had nothing left to say. But I was nothing if not professional, so I asked, “Is there anything else?”

“No. Keep up the good work, Miss Cooper.”

Turning on my heel, I left his tiny office feeling like I was walking on air.

Knowing my job wouldn’t be affected was a huge first step. And there was only one person I wanted to share the news with.

It was torture trying to make it through the workday. All I wanted was a minute alone with Maddox.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off him—looking sexy in his Speed-branded tracksuit—throughout practice, knowing we were free and clear to pursue whatever was brewing between us. The dull ache between my thighs wouldn’t let up, and I shifted restlessly in the hard plastic seat of the practice rink.

My pussy knew the dry spell would be ending tonight. It had been just about three months since Maddox and I met for the first time at Pipes before the season began, and that’s how long she’d been craving action that wasn’t of the silicone variety.

When the team left the ice and we moved onto the interview portion of the afternoon, Maddox was quick to pick up on my distress, arching an eyebrow in my direction in the press room when I couldn’t make my body settle. I gave him a subtle shake of my head, but I was struggling to keep my arousal contained.

As soon as we were dismissed and given approval to access the locker room to talk to the players, I begged Alyssa to cover for me. Then, I sweet-talked my way into gaining access to the executive floor by making a security guard extremely uncomfortable by telling him that I’d gotten my period and didn’t have any supplies on hand, but a female staff member said there were feminine hygiene products available in their bathrooms on that floor.

It worked like a charm. He started to sweat as I explained in vivid detail how messy it could get if I didn’t take care of the situation immediately and swiped his card at the dedicated bank of elevators to get rid of me as quickly as possible.

Pressing the button for the fifth floor, I bit my lip. He was going to be so surprised to see me. I only hoped it was happy surprised and not what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-up-here-are-you-crazy surprised.

The elevator door slid open, and I checked the hallway to make sure an important member of the management staff didn’t spot me as I slipped into Maddox’s office. The coast was clear, so I tiptoed as stealthily as possible in heels until I reached his door.

I knocked, my body practically vibrating in anticipation.

“It’s open,” his deep, masculine voice called through the thick wood.

Turning the doorknob, I pushed inside, latching the door behind me. His attention was on the computer screen, eyes moving rapidly, which told me he was watching the film—the only thing I couldn’t discern from my position was if it featured the Speed or one of their upcoming opponents.

“What can I do for you?” Maddox didn’t bother to look up.

Biting my lip to stifle a giggle, I silently waited for him to discover that the two of us were alone in his office.

He let out an annoyed sigh, lifting his eyes over the top of the monitor. When he caught sight of me, those beautiful green gems widened, and he stood.

Heat curled through my body as his burning gaze scanned my appearance from head to toe. I was dressed in a plain white blouse and black pencil skirt—basic professional attire, but form-fitting enough to show off my curves.

The air in the room grew thick as we continued to stare at each other wordlessly. Three months of sexual tension were coming to a head, and we both knew it was going to be explosive.

“Hey.” The single word came out as a breathy pant, my heart racing.

Maddox swallowed as I stepped closer, rounding the edge of his desk and perching on the edge next to his computer screens.

When he remained silent, I reached up to stroke the skin of his jaw, already rough with stubble after his morning shave. “Is this a bad time?”

His eyes slid closed, and his lips turned up as he shook his head. “No.” He cleared his throat when the word came out gruff. “It’s just I’ve never understood the appeal of pornos set in an office until you walked in.”

My hand slid higher into his styled hair. “Hmm. Are you having inappropriate thoughts about the young reporter, Coach Sterling?”

Maddox’s chest vibrated with the force of his growl as those brilliant green eyes snapped open. I gasped, stunned by the intensity of arousal swirling in his gaze.

“Who knows you’re up here?” he asked.

I peeked back toward his door. “Only a security guard. And trust me, he won’t be making eye contact with me anytime soon. I think we’re good.”

A dark eyebrow arched high on his forehead. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

Yeah, I wasn’t going to kill the mood by divulging my excuse to access this restricted floor. “Doesn’t matter how I got up here. It only matters that I did.”

Smirking, Maddox dipped his head to graze against the sensitive skin behind my ear. “Hmm. What is it that brings you to my office, Miss Cooper?”

I tightened my grip on his hair as he trailed a path of hot kisses down my neck before flicking open the top two buttons of my blouse and skimming the swells of my breasts.

“I went to visit my editor this morning,” I rasped as he tweaked a nipple through the fabric of my shirt and bra.

Head snapping up, Maddox searched my face. “And?”

Huffing out a wry laugh, I said, “Let’s see. The meeting started with him assuming I was pregnant and there to quit.” Maddox made a choking sound, and I rolled my eyes. “I’m not, but it’s good to know where your head’s at.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”

“Right.” I blew out a breath, looking toward the ceiling.

“Shit,” Maddox cursed softly. “I’m fucking this all up again.”

“It’s fine.” I was used to it by now. Lowering my gaze, I refused to meet his eye.

“No, it’s not.” He gripped my chin, turning my face until I had a view of the regret etched on his. “I don’t want you to jump to any conclusions in your mind. So, I’ll be totally honest with you. You caught me off guard, that’s all. I’m not opposed to the idea of kids, especially with you.” My heart caught in my throat as he pressed on. “But what I really want is a chance for us to explore our feelings, to test out what a life together could look like, without the added pressure of an unexpected addition. I don’t want anything between us to feel forced or rushed because of a perceived obligation toward one another.”

Oh, wow. Was this how grown-ups talked? If so, I needed more of this in my life.

“Now,” Maddox said gently, sliding his hand to the side of my neck. “Tell me what happened in your meeting.”

I blinked at him for a full minute before my mind was finally able to push his words aside and recall the details from my talk with Barry earlier.

“He got excited over the prospect of an ‘inside scoop’ with us being together.” Every muscle in Maddox’s body tensed, but I quickly set his mind at ease. “But I set him straight and told him where to shove his job if he expected me to exploit my personal relationships within the team.”

Rearing back, a flicker of surprise flashed through his eyes before pride replaced it. “How did he take it?”

A victorious grin crept onto my face. “Believe it or not, I think I earned a little bit of respect from the guy.”

“So . . . you still have a job?” Maddox hedged.

I shrugged. “For now.”

“That’s amazing. Look at my girl standing her ground, taking no prisoners.”

My girl. Two simple words had my pulse accelerating.

“Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” I teased. “That’s a pretty serious claiming statement you just made.”

He flashed me that deliciously cocky smirk. “Are you going to pretend you haven’t been mine since the first night I took you home?”

My head tilted, and I raised an eyebrow. “If memory serves, I took you home.”

“Semantics.” His nose teased the side of mine.

“You sure you still want me, now that it’s no longer forbidden? That was part of the thrill, wasn’t it?“ I had to be sure because I was dangerously close to falling for him, and my fragile heart wouldn’t survive another break so soon after the last one.

A low chuckle reached my ears before he gripped my hand, bringing it to the front of his track pants, where they were tented by his erection. With his hand over mine, we palmed his length as he rasped, “Does this feel like I don’t want you?”

“Mmm.” I curled my fingers around him, relishing the sound of his throaty groan.

His hands gripped my waist, and I squealed when he lifted me without warning. Setting my feet on the floor, he spun me around, forcing my chest onto his desk until my cheek rested against the cool wood surface.

Maddox’s weight pressed into my back, and his lips grazed the shell of my ear. “I answered your question, so I think it’s only fair you answer mine.” He paused, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room. “Think you can be quiet, love? These walls might not be thin, but they’re no match for the sound of your screams when you come.”

My breathing hitched, and I nodded wordlessly.

“Good girl,” Maddox praised, and the dull ache between my legs became an insistent throbbing, desperate for relief.

He moved behind me, skimming a hand down my back, over my ass, and along the outside of my leg until he reached my ankle.

“You know, I’ve been wondering for months about these stockings.”

What? He has?

“Every time you walked past, I pictured them as a different type—pantyhose, thigh-highs, perhaps the kind attached to a garter belt. It drove me insane not knowing. Today, I’m finally going to find out.”

Tapping the inside of my ankles, he indicated that he wanted me to spread my legs. Thankfully, the pencil skirt I wore was a stretchy material, and I was able to force my feet to stand shoulder-width apart.

Maddox hummed his satisfaction at my obedience before sliding one hand up the inside of my calf, pausing at my knee to tease the inside of the joint with his thumb. He was drawing out the anticipation. I wasn’t sure if it was for himself or for me, but it was working—I was on fucking fire, my hips grinding against the edge of his desk.

His fingers continued their upward trek, only an inch away from where he would discover that I wore lace-edged thigh-highs, when there was a knock on the door. I gasped, and Maddox stood suddenly behind me.

“Yeah?” Maddox’s husky voice addressed whoever awaited on the other side.

“Maddox, you have a minute?”

Fuck. I knew that voice. It belonged to Jared McCall, the Speed’s general manager.

It was one thing to come clean to my editor, quite another to be caught alone with Maddox in his office by his boss. There would be blowback on Maddox since I wasn’t supposed to have access to this floor.

Lifting my head, I frantically searched for somewhere to hide.

With a regretful expression, Maddox gestured for the only place available—beneath his desk.

I sank to my knees as he mouthed, I’m sorry, and I backed up until I was completely concealed in the dark alcove. Maddox sat in his desk chair and rolled it close to where I was crouched, his dick still standing proud right in front of my face.

Don’t even think about it.

My conscience knew it was a bad idea, but in my aroused state, my body was calling the shots and up for the risk.

“Come in.”

The minute Maddox invited McCall into his office was the same one I pulled down the waistband of his pants and freed his cock.

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Chapter 24

Maddox

Is she out of her fucking mind?

There wasn’t time to tell Bristol not to mess around down there before Jared pushed through the door to my office, closing it behind him.

Thank God I was sitting down because my knees would have given out the minute Bristol’s hot mouth swallowed my cock. It had been far too long, and I silently cursed that I wouldn’t be able to savor every minute of her sucking me off because I had to focus on not giving away that I was getting a blowjob under my desk in front of my boss.

“What can I do for you, Jared?” My voice came out harsher than I intended, with my teeth gritted against a fresh wave of pleasure.

His brows furrowed as he took a seat opposite my desk. “Everything all right, Maddox?”

“Fine.” I gave him a tight smile as Bristol swirled her tongue over the head of my cock.

“Good. I wanted to come down and touch base about Dream Day coming up.”

With all my blood pooled below my waist, I struggled to focus on what he was talking about. “Dream Day?”

Jared eyed me carefully. “We do it every year, bringing in a few kids with life-threatening conditions whose dream it is to be Speed players.”

“Right.” Jesus, how could I forget? Those kids who came in year after year were little warriors fighting against conditions and diseases that brought grown adults to their knees. “How many do we have this year?”

“Five. They’re coming in next week after we get back from Wisconsin.”

“Great. I’ll make sure to speak with the guys about it.” I hoped that was enough to satisfy him and he would leave because I wasn’t going to last much longer with Bristol’s skilled mouth going to town on me like I was her last fucking meal on Earth.

“The PR staff will set everything up, but I wanted to touch base with you personally because one of their dreams was to be a coach.”

Stunned, I sat back in my chair before realizing my mistake because my dick was out and sat forward again suddenly. “A sick kid’s dream is to be a coach?”

“Would seem so.” Jared nodded.

Coaching became my consolation prize after my playing career had come to a screeching halt. To know it was someone’s first choice, their dream? It was hard to wrap my mind around.

There wasn’t much time to think about it, though, as Bristol took me so deep that she gagged, the sound loud enough that Jared’s eyes widened.

Fuck. I had to cover this up and fast.

Placing a hand to my stomach, I let out the groan I’d been holding in the entire time she’d been servicing me beneath the desk. “Sorry. Haven’t felt the best today.”

Jared stood, backing away like I might projectile vomit on him. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off.”

I waved him off. “I’ll be fine. You’d think after learning I was lactose intolerant, I would lay off the dairy, but I can’t resist it. Comes with a price, though.” Those final words sounded as if I were in pain as I struggled to keep from blowing my load, but it worked to sell my story.

When he realized I wasn’t contagious, Jared visibly relaxed but still stepped toward the door. With his hand on the handle, he turned back. “Oh, and about the reporter.”

Those were the magic words that had Bristol slipping her mouth from my throbbing length mere seconds before I lost control.

“What about her?” I couldn’t keep the bite from my tone.

“Relax, Maddox. I know how it goes.”

My eyebrows raised. “You do?”

Releasing the handle, he leaned against the door, facing me. “Most people don’t know this, but Tori was working for the Heroes when we met. I sustained an upper-body injury that kept me out of the game for about six weeks, and she was the physical therapist assigned to the players who stayed back to rehab while the team traveled. We spent a lot of time together that led to a friendship, and eventually more.” He chuckled. “Thirty years later, we have four kids and three grandkids. All I ask is that you keep it professional at the rink.”

I nodded. “Got it. Thanks, Jared.”

He opened the door and left, latching it behind him.

Hands pushing on my knees forced my chair to roll back enough to allow Bristol to climb out while I tucked myself away in case any additional visitors dropped by.

Wide-eyed and flushed, she asked, “You disclosed our relationship to the team?”

I hauled her onto my lap. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t?”

Bristol dropped her gaze, chewing on a corner of her lip. “I don’t know.”

“Have I not made myself clear? I want to be with you. I’m a grown-ass man, and I have no desire to sneak around like a teenager when it comes to our relationship. You went to your boss today, so I did the same. It’s not a big deal.”

She let out a shaky breath. “After what Nix put me through, being the booty call he never took out in public, it is a huge deal. I’m so used to giving one hundred percent in a relationship because my partner never met me halfway that it never occurred to me that you would take the same leap I did this morning.”

I bristled. “Is that what you think of me? That I’m no better than him?” Venom dripped from that last word.

“Of course not,” she rushed to say. “It’s just . . . I don’t know what it’s like to have an equally invested partner.”

Cupping her face, I let out a sigh. “That breaks my heart, Bristol. You’re this beautiful, intelligent, caring young woman. And don’t get me started on those flashes of sass that peek through. They drive me wild. Any man who couldn’t see the prize sitting before him needs to have their head examined because when I look at you, I truly believe I’m the luckiest man in the world to have your attention.”

The tiniest hint of a smile tipped up on her kissable lips. “I think we both know you have more than my attention.”

“Affection, then,” I countered, hope blossoming in my chest that she might admit it went beyond that.

Bristol blushed and nodded.

My mind hadn’t found a label for my feelings for her, but I had a sneaking suspicion it would eventually land on love. I’d been witness to it with my best friends. Braxton was utterly smitten with Dakota. And Jenner . . . Well, if Jenner felt even half of what I did for Bristol about his ex-wife, then I wasn’t sure how he was still standing.

Losing Bristol at this point was unimaginable—it would wreck me. She had quickly become the air I breathed, my light in the dark, my reason for living.

Hockey had been at the forefront of my life for so long it was strange to have something steal focus from it. But my role had changed, and it was good to have a new purpose—one that still revolved around the game but kept me a hell of a lot warmer at night.

Now that I had her, I never wanted to let her go.

“Dinner tonight?” I asked.

Beautiful blue eyes peered up at me. “Sure. I’ve got to get home and write my article, but I can meet you afterward. Send me an address, and I can meet you wherever.”

As much as I would love to show her off, tonight, I wanted her all to myself. But she’d find that out later.

“Perfect. I’ll send that over when we’re done here.”

She reared back, confusion filling her face. “Done with what?”

Dark laughter fell past my lips. “Oh, sweetheart, did you think you were going to get away with that little stunt under the desk with my boss in the room?”

Bristol’s plush lips parted, and she stammered, “Um—I really didn’t—I don’t think—”

I silenced her with a finger pressed to her mouth. “That’s right, love, you didn’t think. That’s the problem.” Shoving her off my lap, I gestured toward the door. “Lock it.”

She nodded, her footsteps muted by the carpet lining my office. She flicked the lock on the doorknob before returning to where I sat in my desk chair and awaited her next instruction.

Leaning forward, I inched the hem of her skirt up her thighs, revealing that her stockings were indeed lace-lined thigh-highs and humming in satisfaction at that discovery. I continued to tug it over the curve of her hips until it bunched around her waist. Dipping my head to the juncture of her thighs, I paused for a moment to inhale her scent. It was intoxicating, and I couldn’t help darting my tongue out and tasting her through the fabric of her black lace panties.

Bristol’s moan reached my ears, and I glanced up to find her eyes closed.

“You heard what McCall said. It stays professional while we are at the rink.”

Those baby blues flew open, filled with lust and a question—was I going to leave her hanging?

Not on your life.

“Starting tomorrow,” I rasped, sliding her panties to the side and diving back in.

Her hands fell to my head with an anchoring grip in my hair as my tongue swiped through her slit. I couldn’t get deep enough and let out a growl of frustration. I wanted to swim in her juices, to have the taste lingering for hours until we could be together again.

Digging my fingers into the flesh of her soft hips, I lifted her onto my desk as I stood. Her heels made a soft thud when they slipped off her feet and landed on the floor. Placing a palm between her breasts, I urged her to lay flat. Her heartbeat raced beneath my touch as her chest heaved in cadence with her panting breaths.

“Think you can be quiet, love?”

She nodded, but we both knew that was a lie. Scanning the area with something to gag her with—my hands intended to be otherwise occupied as I feasted on her pussy—I honed in on her thigh-highs.

That’ll work.

Peeling the silky-soft sheer material down first one leg then the other, I balled them up, commanding, “Open wide.”

Obeying without a second thought, she parted her lips, allowing me to stuff the makeshift gag inside. Convinced that would dull her screams enough not to draw too much attention, I eased her panties off before dropping to my knees, putting myself at eye level with her glistening pink pussy.

God, it had been too long.

“Naughty girl,” I teased, dragging a finger through the wetness and rubbing a tight circle over her clit. “Drenched for me at the thought of being caught beneath my desk.”

I slid that finger deep inside her, and Bristol’s back arched, a muffled moan barely audible in response. Her warmth gripped me tight, and I could only imagine how incredible it would feel around my cock later tonight. The thought had me rock hard, my hips bucking as my cock sought relief.

Easing in a second finger, I teased the sensitive skin of her inner thighs with my lips and teeth, nibbling before soothing the hurt. The memory of marking her was fresh in my mind; this was a location I could do so where no one else would see.

Bristol writhed on the surface of my desk, silently begging for more as her walls gripped my fingers.

I could draw this out, take my time with her, edging her until her brain was mush and she would be unable to walk out of here on her own power. But we both had work we needed to finish this afternoon, and I consoled myself with the fact that I could keep her up all night long, hearing her scream as loud as she wanted in my bed.

Flattening my tongue, I took a long drag through her dripping pussy, coating it in her flavor. I hummed against the slick flesh, and she jolted against my face.

“Does that feel good, baby?” I murmured.

I received a muffled sob in reply. That was good enough for me.

That swollen little bud demanded my attention, so I latched on, sucking gently at first. Bristol’s hips bucked against my face, chasing her pleasure as I increased the level of suction on her clit. My fingers slid in and out of her, the pace quickening when I felt the first warning spasms that she was close. Flicking my tongue rapidly, I banded my free hand over her waist, keeping her still, only allowing her to take what I was willing to give.

Her thighs shook violently where they were placed over my shoulders, and I fucked her harder with my hand and mouth until her entire body seized, growing taut as her orgasm slammed into her, and her pussy gripped my fingers so hard I worried she might break a bone.

Licking up every drop of arousal, I eased her down slowly until she was left lying boneless, draped across my desk. Rocking back on my heels, I scanned her flushed face and knew I’d never seen a more beautiful sight. Visions of this woman’s sated form were so breathtaking they deserved to be hung in museum galleries. And she was all mine.

Fucking finally.

The sharp sound of her trying to catch her breath through her nostrils had me jumping up to ease the stockings from her open mouth. The thin material was soaked through. But they’d served their purpose, even if not their intended one. I’d buy her more, so I could ruin them all over again.

I dragged a hand along my jaw, rubbing her juices over my skin, trying to soak her in. It was going to be a hell of a long afternoon without her, but the scent would serve as a reminder that she now belonged to me.

My cock was painfully hard, but he, too, would have to wait until later. He’d been patient during all the back-and-forth teasing between me and Bristol over the past few months, but tonight, he would be rewarded with more than just my hand. Not to mention the promise of steady sex for the foreseeable future.

I extended a hand to Bristol and she took it, allowing me to pull her into a sitting position. Dazed post-orgasm, a lazy smile curved on her face. “Hmm.” She threw her arms around my neck. “Wanna carry me outta here?”

I nuzzled her neck, breathing her in. “There’s nothing I’d love more. But we both know I can’t.” Chuckling, I reminded her, “We are still at work.”

“Oh yeah.” She sighed like she’d completely forgotten. “I think I may have to institute a rule about only fooling around in direct proximity to a bed if you’re going to use your voodoo tongue powers on me.”

Pulling back, I let out a hearty laugh. When her personality shone through, it made me want to lock her down immediately. It was too soon, I knew that, but she was something else.

“Voodoo tongue powers?”

She gestured to my mouth with a hand. “I don’t know what else to call it when you steal my ability to walk every time you go down there. If you can’t control yourself until we are in a position where I can lounge for the next several hours while I regain feeling, then I may have to limit your access.”

Fisting her stunning red hair, I tugged, forcing her head back as I claimed her mouth in a punishing kiss. Teasing my tongue deep into her throat, I took what was mine. Only breaking away when we were both breathless and panting, I growled, “There will be no limiting access, understood? Going down on you gives me life.”

Bristol closed her mouth and swallowed hard. “Uh-huh.”

Patting her thigh, I helped her down, righting her clothing and slipping her heels onto her bare feet. Making sure she was steady enough to walk, I guided her toward the door, whispering as I unlocked it, “Maybe take a nap when you’re done with work because you’re not going to get any sleep tonight.”

She twisted her head around, her eyes sparking with mischief. “Promise?”

I would have to set a reminder on my phone to rub one out before she came over tonight because there was no way I would last more than sixty seconds with that vixen in my bed.

Giving her one last kiss, I sent her on her way.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 25

Bristol

I cross-referenced the address Maddox had texted earlier with the giant house I was parked in front of for the third time, my brain still not wanting to believe that this was where he wanted to have dinner.

Blowing out a breath, I hit dial on his contact and placed the phone to my ear.

It rang twice before his rich timbre filled the speaker. “Hey, babe. You almost here?”

“Um. Maybe? I’m sitting in a very upscale neighborhood and thinking I took a wrong turn.”

“561 Filmore Street, right?”

That matched the placard affixed beside the front door and the lettering on the mailbox near where I was parked. “Yeah. I thought you were taking me out to dinner.”

I could hear the smile in his voice. “I never said that.” The front door opened, his massive body filling the doorframe. “Are you gonna sit out there all night or come inside?”

“I’m coming.” I sighed. This was not at all what I had expected.

“No, but you will later tonight. As many times as I can manage before you pass out from the pleasure.” His husky tone had me clenching my thighs.

I had been lucky to get any work done after our little rendezvous in his office. My mind couldn’t focus on the words I tried to type. Ironic, considering I’d made a point to Barry earlier this morning that my relationship with Maddox wouldn’t impact my job performance. It was just in a different way than he was expecting.

Hanging up, I took a cleansing breath.

Yes, he’d seen me naked. Yes, we’d slept together. Yes, his face had been buried in my pussy mere hours ago.

But that was sex. It was about making each other feel good.

This—him inviting me over to what I could only assume was his home for dinner—was decidedly different. It was borderline domestic and so different from anything I’d encountered to this point in my life.

I had a feeling that the moment I crossed the threshold, I would be entering another world. One where the man living inside had made it clear he wanted to take care of me. And not only in bed, but all the time. It was frightening and exciting in the same breath.

Maddox’s eyes tracked my movements as I exited my car, his legs crossed as he leaned against the doorframe, hands tucked into his pockets. There was nothing but adoration shining in their green depths, and it warmed me to the core while sending tingles down my spine.

The man looked edible in a gray sweater over dark wash jeans, his feet bare even though it was December. His dark hair was messy, lacking the product he used to style it while at the rink, likely having showered once he’d returned home.

In a suit, he was powerful and sexy, but I liked him dressed down like this better. It gave off an aura of coziness, making me want to curl up in his arms before a fire.

“I’m overdressed,” I said, gesturing to my dress and heels as I climbed the porch steps.

A warm smile filled Maddox’s face, and the second I was within reach, he pulled me into his arms, brushing his lips against mine in a soft kiss. “You look amazing.”

I shivered at the sincerity of his words. “Thank you.”

Stepping backward, he tugged me further into the house, closing the door behind us. My eyes scanned the interior of the open-concept house. The staircase in the foyer featured a wrought iron railing, leading to what appeared to be an open hallway bridging both sides of the house. That overhead hallway created a thruway to the visible living room, which I could tell from here spanned two stories.

“This place is beautiful,” I mused.

Point for the older guy, being well-established already.

Maddox chuckled beside me. “Thanks. I was slightly nervous you’d think it was a shack after being in Jaxon Slate’s house.”

The Slates did have an impressive residence, but I would never expect Maddox’s home to rival theirs. They had a large family, whereas he was a single man.

I shot him a teasing smile. “Guess that’s the difference between a player and a coach.”

A shadow passed over Maddox’s face, and his body tensed as the playful mood between us shifted.

“Come on.” His voice was gruff as he urged me further into the house with a hand on the small of my back. “Don’t want to burn dinner.”

Shit. Did I take it too far and mess this up already?

Mentally kicking myself, I let him lead me into the kitchen, which was completely open to the living room. Maddox pulled out a stool at the marble island for me, and I took a seat while he moved to check on whatever was simmering on the stove. With his back to me, I could see the tension vibrating through his muscles.

The silence was deafening, so I asked, “Can I help with anything?”

Maddox’s body shook with the force of a heavy sigh, but with it, he seemed to relax, and when he turned around, he was smiling. He was dealing with something, that much was clear, but he shoved it aside so as not to ruin our night. Maybe someday, he would talk to me about it. When he was ready to share, I’d be there waiting. Just like he’d been there for me.

“You wanna grab a bottle of wine out of the chiller?” He gestured to a glass case near the fridge.

“Sure.” I nodded, sliding off the stool. Pausing at the wall of wine, I asked, “You have a bottle in mind?”

“Dealer’s choice.” Maddox didn’t spare me a glance, back to working the food on the stove. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious, the aroma making my mouth water.

I could see the label for a chardonnay on the top shelf, so I raised on my tiptoes and stretched my arm to reach it. My fingers grasped the cool neck, pulling it down. When my heels came down, my trick ankle twisted, and I stumbled, the bottle slipping from my hand.

Almost as if in slow motion, I watched the glass crash to the tiled floor and shatter into a thousand pieces. Wine splashed everywhere, drenching my legs and the front of my dress.

My gasp was drowned out by Maddox’s shout of, “What the fuck?”

Instantly, arms banded around my waist, lifting me into the air. My ass hit the cool marble of the island as Maddox stood before me, scanning for injuries.

The chill of the wine soaking through my clothes had me shivering, but I managed to get out through chattering teeth, “I’m okay. Just clumsy.”

His eyes closed in relief, and he asked, “What happened?”

Trying for levity after embarrassing myself, I joked, “Didn’t quite land the dismount.”

That did the trick, and Maddox’s laughter filled the space. Pressing his forehead to mine, he whispered, “Scared the hell outta me.”

My hands threaded through his hair. “I’m sorry. And I’ll clean all this up. Just point me in the direction of where you keep your broom.”

I moved to slide off the counter, but he held me steady. “You’re going to sit right here. I don’t want to see your feet touch the ground until I’ve cleared it of every sliver of glass, do you understand?”

A thought tickled at the back of my brain, and I protested, “You’re barefoot, Maddox!”

“I’m a big boy. I’ll be fine.” He gave me a stern glare. “I expect to find you sitting right here when I get back with the broom.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, wincing as he stepped around the mess I’d made.

This is why we can’t have nice things. Because of me. I’m a little girl compared to his grown man, and it shows. Why would he even want to be with me when I’m a walking disaster with baggage for days?

“I can see your brain working overtime from here.” Maddox’s voice had my head snapping up to find him standing near a closet, broom in hand. “I’m not mad. I’m just glad you’re not hurt. You’re all that matters. Got it?”

Swallowing, I managed a nod, pushing my doubts to the back of my mind.

He eased me onto my feet after sweeping the glass and soaking up the remaining wine with a towel. I noticed the food was off the burner as we passed the stove, and he ushered me toward the stairs.

Nervous laughter fell from my lips as we entered what could only be Maddox’s bedroom. “Are we skipping straight to dessert?”

He pinched my ass as he stepped past me, and I jumped. “Tempting, but no. You’re in desperate need of dry clothes.”

Crossing my arms, I teased, “Not sure we’re the same size.”

Maddox’s eyes heated as they trailed over my body in appreciation from where he stood, digging through a dresser drawer. “No. Definitely not.” He plucked out a T-shirt and a pair of joggers before handing them to me. “But this will have to do.”

“Thanks.”

“Dinner’s almost done. Get changed and come down when you’re ready.” He pressed a kiss to my lips before leaving the room.

Now that I was alone, I took a moment to appreciate that I was in Maddox’s private space. Whoever he paid to decorate did a great job capturing his essence. The room screamed of masculinity.

The walls were mostly cream, but black crown molding lining the ceiling matched the black-stained hardwood floors. The only pop of color came from a slate blue accent wall behind the mahogany headboard of a king-sized bed made with black silk sheets.

Everything smelled like him, and I wondered if there was a way to smuggle a pillowcase out of there without him noticing so I could put it on my pillow at home. Bringing the clothing in my hands to my nose, I took a deep whiff of his scent, finding the hints of sandalwood and amber comforting.

Resigning myself to the fact that I was going from overdressed for dinner to underdressed, I stripped off the wet clothing. The chardonnay left my skin sticky where it had soaked through the fabric, so I stepped into his bathroom in search of a washcloth to wipe myself down.

The ensuite matched the theme of the bedroom. Black marble was featured on the sinks, and an open shower stall featured three shower heads. A white claw-foot tub rested beneath a corner window facing the west, perfect for sunset baths.

There were two doors inside the bathroom. The first revealed a toilet room. The other was the linen closet I’d come in here to find.

Snatching a washcloth, I ran it under warm water from the sink before cleaning myself off the best I could under the circumstances. Maddox would probably have no issue with me showering, but he’d said dinner was almost done, and I had already caused enough delay.

My panties were another casualty of my earlier blunder, so I slipped into Maddox’s joggers commando. I was an average-height woman at five-five, but Maddox had at least ten inches on me, so I was forced to roll the waistband of his sweatpants three times and then the ankle cuffs twice. I looked ridiculous, especially after adding the T-shirt, which swallowed me whole, the hem coming to rest slightly above my knees. Deciding to go all in with the frumpy look I was sporting for dinner, I threw my red locks into a messy bun atop my head.

So much for making an impression on a “first” date. I looked like a little girl playing dress-up in her dad’s clothing.

Taking a deep breath, I walked down the stairs. This was the moment of truth. He either took me in all my messy forms, or he didn’t.

I knew I was safeguarding my heart by even thinking that. Maddox had already proven himself to be a better man than anyone I’d dated. Nix would have screamed at me for being a klutz the minute he heard glass shatter before spouting off how much money he’d spent on that particular bottle. Then, he would have demanded I clean it up, not caring if I was cut or bleeding as a result. God, what the hell had I been thinking, being with him?

Because you’d never had a guy treat you right, and that was your benchmark.

I paused at the threshold to the living room, keeping out of sight as I heard Maddox setting what sounded like the island for dinner.

“Might as well stop lurking and come join me.” The humor in his voice carried to where I stood.

Stepping into view, I threw my arms wide as I spun in a circle, showcasing my new look. “What do you think?”

Maddox leaned a hip against the island. “Honestly? I like you better like this.” When I rolled my eyes, he doubled down. “Seriously. Because right now, when I look at you drowning in my clothes, I see a girl who belongs in my home. My girl.”

I raised an eyebrow, closing the gap between us. “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm.” He pulled me into his arms once I was within his reach. “You’re gonna smell like me.” Maddox dipped his head, letting his nose trail along the curve of my neck.

Arching into his touch, I sighed. “Maybe I’ll just keep these clothes, then.”

“They’re yours. Everything I have is yours.”

I pulled back, frowning. “Come on, Maddox. We just got the all-clear to date today. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

He let out an annoyed huff. “Do you really believe that? That today is the start of us?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Not in my mind. We’ve been tiptoeing around this for months, on a collision course with this moment right here, where you finally accept that there’s something deeper between us. It was always going to end here. With you in my arms, in my home, a permanent fixture in my life.”

Bristling, I stepped back. “So, that’s how it’s going to go? You’ve decided the rest of my life for me without asking what I might want?”

“Of course not.” His brow furrowed. “I don’t want to bully you around in our relationship, and I’m sorry if that’s how you see it. All I’m trying to do is tell you how I feel.”

“And how is that?” I challenged, my heart racing in anticipation of the unknown answer.

“That I’m falling for you. Hard. So fucking hard. And it’s terrifying to think that you might never get to that same place.”

My lungs stopped working, the ability to draw in air seizing at his words.

Maddox’s hands cradled my face, concern alighting in his stunning emerald eyes. “Why are you crying?”

“Am I?” I brushed my fingers across my cheeks, surprised when they came away wet.

“Was it too much? I know you think it’s too soon, but I can’t help it.”

Swallowing, I tried to find the words. “I think I am too.”

“You’re what?” His eyes searched mine.

I knew once I said it, there would be no taking it back. But my heart had already decided, so what was the point in denying it any longer?

“Falling.” When Maddox simply stared at me, I added, “In love. If that wasn’t clear.”

He let out a ragged breath, his eyes sliding closed as his face transformed into an expression of pure relief. “Thank God.”

It was impossible to stop the joy bubbling within me. Maybe this was it. I’d kissed my fair share of frogs and had finally found my prince. Only time would tell, but for now, I would allow myself to be happy with a man who wanted to cherish me—his words, not mine. Seemed like a pretty good deal from what I’d witnessed of my best friend’s relationship.

“Maddox?” I looped my arms around his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Suddenly, I’m not very hungry anymore.”

His head dropped to the crook of my neck. “Hmm. That’s too bad. Because I’m starving.”

I moaned when his teeth sank into the skin of my shoulder where the neck of his shirt I wore gaped. Maddox gripped my hips through the loose fabric of his clothing, lifting me with ease, and I locked my ankles around his waist.

Moving rapidly up the stairs, he laid me gently onto his massive bed, eyes scanning hungrily when I sat up to tear the T-shirt over my head to reveal I wore nothing beneath.

“Fuck yes,” Maddox groaned, his hand dropping to palm his hardening cock over the fabric of his jeans.

“Your turn.” I gestured to his clothes.

His sweater was gone in a flash, revealing his muscular torso. I bit my lip, eager to run my hands over every hard-earned ridge. His jeans were wrenched off next, leaving him wearing only tight boxer briefs that did very little to hide the size of his cock. My mouth watered, remembering the feel of it in my mouth while hiding underneath his desk.

“Keep looking at me like that, and this isn’t going to last very long.” His voice was low and rough.

I smirked up at him, easing the loose joggers down my thighs and kicking them away. “I’m not too worried. My boyfriend loves to go down on me, so even if he’s a two-pump chump, I’ll leave satisfied.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” Maddox quirked an eyebrow, shedding his underwear and stroking his cock as he stepped up to the side of the bed, his eyes fixed on where I lay open for him.

“Is there a problem?” I teased, my fingers trailing over my breasts, over my stomach, intent on easing the ache between my thighs.

“No. Sounds amazing rolling off your lips.” His hand clamped down around my wrist, moving it to the side as my hips bucked, searching for contact. “Oh no, you don’t. This is my pussy. It’s my job to take care of it.”

“Then do it already,” I whined.

He swiped a finger through where I was drenched for him, humming. “Goddamn, Bristol. You’re so fucking perfect. Every inch of you.”

His praise had my back bowing, trying to take him inside.

Maddox chuckled. “Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you, love?”

“Please,” I begged. “I need you, Maddox.”

“Fuck,” he cursed. “I can’t wait to hear you screaming my name all night long.”

That was the last thing he said before he shoved two fingers inside me and lowered his head. His groan at the first swipe of his tongue sent shockwaves of pleasure down my spine. I fisted the sheets by my side, trying to hold back, but there was no stopping the orgasm that barreled through me—courtesy of his skillful mouth. I gasped as my vision darkened, my body trembling with the force of pleasure crashing over me in intense waves.

When he didn’t stop, I tugged on his hair, weakly trying to pull him away, too sensitive to handle any more. There was a momentary reprieve when Maddox lifted his head, his chin glistening with my arousal, a lazy smile on his face.

“That one was too easy,” he taunted. “Besides, you didn’t scream my name. Let’s try to do better this time, shall we?”

My mind was hazy, so it took a minute to register that “next time” meant right now. I got the message loud and clear when his teeth latched onto my clit, and his fingers pressed on the perfect spot inside me. The deep groan that filled the air sounded foreign, but my raw throat suggested it came from me.

The pulsing of his fingers grew rougher as his tongue toyed with the sensitive bud he held hostage. Every muscle in my body coiled tighter and tighter in warning that I was about to shatter. There was no denying Maddox was staking his claim on my body—proving he owned my pussy—and I was more than happy to let him if it meant a lifetime of this.

Just as he wanted, it was his name I cried when I came on his tongue for the second time.

“Such a quick learner,” Maddox breathed against my inner thigh, where his head rested.

I couldn’t manage a reply as I sucked in huge gulps of air, my heart beating out of my chest. I was only vaguely aware of him crawling up my body, my eyes sealed shut even as tears leaked freely down my cheeks.

Maddox kissed a path across my skin on his upward trek, setting tiny fires everywhere his mouth touched. He paused to lick across my nipple before sucking it deeply into his mouth. My whimper was barely audible over the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

Fingers dug into the flesh of my hips as he nestled his pelvis between the cradle of my thighs. I gasped when the length of his cock pressed against my seam. Maddox groaned into my neck, nipping at it as he rocked his hips.

“Oh my God,” I moaned. With how overstimulated I was, it wouldn’t take much rubbing against him to get me off again.

Rising on his elbows above me, Maddox captured my lips in a druggingly slow kiss, letting me taste myself on his tongue. Breaking away, he said softly, “I’ll be right back, baby.”

He tried to move, but I dug my fingers into his back, holding him in place. “Don’t leave me.”

His forehead dropped to mine. “Gotta grab a condom.”

Right. Of course. It made sense. Except . . .

“How about you don’t?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Rearing back, Maddox stared down at me in surprise. “What?”

Hair had fallen into his eyes, so I shoved it back with my hand, only to have it spring forward again.

Maddox swallowed so hard that the sharp point of his Adam’s apple visibly bobbed along the length of his throat. “What are you asking me for, Bristol?”

I rushed to explain, “I’m clean. I got tested after . . .” My voice trailed off; I didn’t want to say his name. Not here. Truth be told, if I never said it again, it would be too soon. “And I’m on birth control. I don’t want there to be anything between us. If you want me to be yours, then I am.”

Those green eyes I’d come to love widened, and he let out a sharp breath. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

Uncertainty filled his voice. “I’ve—I’ve never . . .”

He had a past, but he’d been safe. It was comforting to know, considering I hadn’t always been smart enough to protect myself.

I turned my head, unable meet his eye as I said, “It’s okay. We don’t have to.”

“No.” Maddox’s fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I’ve never trusted anyone enough to go bare.” A corner of his lips turned up. “I’m glad you’re the one.”

Thank God I was lying down because that would have been enough to make me swoon.

“You ready, baby?”

“Yes.” I rocked my hips in answer.

He pulled back enough to center himself, the tip of his cock nudging against where I so desperately needed him. We’d been this close before, only to have him leave me. I wouldn’t survive if that happened again, so I brought my legs around his waist, locking my ankles so he couldn’t escape. I mean, he probably could’ve if he tried—he was a lot stronger than me—but that simple action got the point across, and he drove home in a single thrust, stealing my breath away with the sudden stretch.

Maddox’s groan sounded in my ear from where his head had dropped as soon as our bodies joined. “You feel so fucking good, Bristol.”

“And you feel . . . big.” Yeah, I wouldn’t be winning any awards for writing poetry anytime soon.

His raspy chuckle vibrated where our chests touched.

The skin-on-skin was intimate, and I could appreciate he needed a minute—hell, I probably needed more than a minute to adjust to the size of him—but the throbbing between my legs was insistent. I needed him to move and couldn’t wait, so I thrust against him.

“Jesus.” He moaned, and it was the hottest thing I’d ever heard.

When he lifted his head, I could see the restraint noticeable in every tensed muscle, the tendons in his neck pronounced with his jaw clenched.

“We’re gonna do this my way,” he gritted out, gripping my hands and clasping them together before raising them above my head.

I tried to buck against him, but he raised on his knees, widening his stance enough to dislodge my hold around his hips, my legs falling to the side.

Bringing his mouth to my ear, he whispered hotly, “I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of this; draw it out for as long as I’m able.”

Practically pinned beneath him, I threw my head back on a breathy moan as he pulled back and thrust forward with agonizing slowness. I was on fire as his length dragged along every nerve ending I possessed.

“Maddox.” His name was said on a breathy sigh.

He hummed, gliding into me again and again steadily, never increasing his pace. Moving our hands to rest beside my head, he kissed my jawline before sealing his lips over mine. His tongue slid into my mouth as slowly as his cock, the combination driving me wild.

I’d never had sex like this—something I was coming to discover described every time with Maddox so far. I was used to guys grunting as they pounded into me hard, racing toward the end goal of their climax. This slow, sensual dance was foreign to me, but I didn’t hate it. I was quickly learning that the connection was as crucial a factor as knowing which erogenous zones to exploit.

Maddox was making love to me, his body trying to coax mine into falling over that sharp cliff with him. Not just over that peak of pleasure, which promised ecstasy, but the one where you jumped on blind faith, the future unknown. It was a tempting proposition—one I was dangerously close to accepting.

Our skin grew slick with sweat, and I writhed beneath him as his slow strokes teased me with the promise of an orgasm that loomed just out of reach.

“Please,” I whined, fingers curling to grip his hands tighter.

“Do you need to come, love?” Maddox’s voice was strained. He was holding back.

“Yes!” I cried as he ground his hips leisurely, like he could do this all night.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he gritted out.

“I’m yours! Please!” I sobbed, mindless with pleasure.

A low growl sounded, and the next time his hips pulled back, it wasn’t a slow, firm stroke; it was a jarring slam. My neck arched as my eyes closed, and I gasped, “Right there. More.”

One hand let go of mine. His forearm hooked under my knee, spreading me open even wider. Maddox grunted, pounding into me, sending me careening over the cliff I’d been teetering on all night.

“Fuck yes!” I screamed, my throat raw, as my pussy clamped down on his cock, never wanting to let it go.

After a few more jarring thrusts, Maddox stilled on a guttural groan, his eyes slamming shut as he emptied himself inside me.

When he collapsed off to my side, he tucked me against his heaving chest, keeping our connection intact. Normally, I was the first one to jump up to clean myself, but with him, I didn’t mind the mess. His arms were where I belonged, where I felt safe, and nothing else mattered more than that.

Our breathing leveled out, and Maddox hooked his fingers beneath my chin to tilt my face up. With a dazed expression on his, he asked, “Are you sure this isn’t a dream?”

My heart swelled. “If it is, I never want to wake up.”

Placing my ear directly over his beating heart, I let the steady rhythm soothe me until my eyes grew heavy.

My last thought before I slipped into unconsciousness was one of thanks to Braxton for his interference on my first night in Indy. If Maddox and I hadn’t hooked up after connecting at Pipes before I knew who he was, I wouldn’t be here, wrapped in his arms, happier than I’d ever been in my life.

All the hardship between that moment and now was worth it if this was the end result.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 26

Maddox

Athletes often found themselves in the spotlight, under constant scrutiny from the media, and while that might seem oppressive and intrusive, most of us had found a way to use that attention to spark good in our communities. Players used their platforms to bring awareness to important causes, not only by writing large checks to support worthy causes but by volunteering their time and making a personal impact.

Everyone had charities that were near and dear to their hearts. Braxton often served meals at soup kitchens, feeding the homeless and those who struggled to provide hot meals for themselves. Jenner gravitated toward children’s charities. He went to group homes and mentored youth without strong role models.

For me, it always came back to hockey. I was the one funding youth leagues for families who found the cost barrier to the sport I loved too high, supporting the cost of equipment and ice for entire teams. The kids and parents alike went wild when I made guest appearances at practices, but I’d stopped doing that after the injury. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go; I just figured they wouldn’t want me. I wasn’t the Maddox Sterling they idolized anymore; instead, the one who’d lost it all, whom they pitied.

Beyond our personal endeavors, the Indianapolis Speed, as an organization, sponsored several events throughout the year for the entire team to attend and give back. Events like passing out pre-packaged Thanksgiving meals at the food bank, sponsoring the cost of winter clothing for underprivileged youth, and a Christmas trip to the Children’s Hospital. Today, it was Dream Day.

Nothing was more heartwarming than making a dream come true for a kid battling a life-threatening condition or illness. Even though life had been supremely unfair to them, you never heard a word of complaint; they were always the happiest, most gracious children you’d ever meet. We might be the ones granting their wish, but at the end of the day, they always managed to give us something more important—perspective.

We might grumble about sore bodies, injuries, and the rigors of constant travel, but we had it better than most. This day served as a reminder of that fact.

I arrived at the rink early in preparation. Our public relations head, Lily, was sorting through four sets of youth gear in the locker room.

“Need some help?” I offered, stepping inside.

“Hey, Maddox.” She turned to smile at me. “If you’ve got a minute, I could use an extra hand. Thanks.”

“Sure thing.” I dropped to my knees beside her.

Lily pointed to a list of names and sizes. “Everything came in one giant box, and I’m trying to make sure I get the gear right for each child.”

“Seems simple enough.”

I grabbed a pair of skates, checked the size, and placed it in a pile for a child named Will. The next pair belonged to Jamie, then Tyler, and Victoria. I smiled, thinking of a girl wanting to be a hockey player. It was great that the game was growing and becoming more inclusive.

“Check this out.” Lily’s voice drew my attention away from my methodical sorting.

Turning my head, I caught her holding up a tiny tracksuit embroidered with the Speed logo of a red racecar over the chest and the name Coach Jack.

“Isn’t this the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” she gushed.

I chuckled. I had to admit; it was pretty damn adorable.

“Jack is gonna be your little buddy today. How great is it that one of them wanted to be a coach?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, still blown away that a child would forgo glory on the ice for a spot standing behind the bench.

That lesson in perspective is definitely needed today.

Lily stood, clapping her hands. “Everything looks great! They should be here in an hour, so I’ve got lots to do. Thanks for the help, Maddox.”

“Anytime,” I said as she bustled from the room, intent on her next task.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I headed for my office. Even though we had special guests coming, I would be running a full practice after they left and needed to prepare my practice plans.

The first lesson in coaching was that there were no days off.

The press room was packed, every reporter covering the Speed in attendance. Ten-year-old Jack stood on a platform to see over the podium as they asked him questions as if he were the head coach.

He was a cute kid. His mom had pulled me aside when they arrived to explain that Jack had cystic fibrosis, a condition that impacted his lungs. He loved hockey, but his specific case was too severe to allow him to play such a high-intensity sport. Undeterred by his diagnosis, Jack decided to study the game and become a coach one day.

I was impressed. Life had handed the little dude a rough draw, but he was upbeat, finding new ways to chase his dreams.

Standing beside him, I called each reporter by name since Jack didn’t know them personally to do so himself.

When my favorite redhead was next, I smirked, keeping my eyes on her as I spoke to Jack loud enough that the entire room could hear. “Fair warning, Miss Cooper has been known to ask the toughest questions.”

Her blue eyes sparkled, and a smile split her face as those gathered in the room chuckled. Our relationship was well known within the ranks of the press corps by now, but she hadn’t let up on her hardball questions daily.

God, I fucking loved her.

Clearing her throat, Bristol pretended to check her notepad. “Coach Jack, would you care to share your starting lineup for tomorrow’s matchup against the Atlanta Aviators?”

Jack peeked up at me, but I nodded my head toward the reporters, letting him know it was up to him to respond. His broad grin, as his eyes shone with adoration, made my heart flip.

My single days were behind me, and more and more, I wondered what it might be like to start a family—in particular, a family with Bristol. I wouldn’t mind a little boy who stared at me like I was his hero or a spunky, inquisitive little girl who kept me on my toes. I knew I was moving too fast, that what we shared was too new, but I couldn’t help it. Maybe it was because I was older, and many guys my age had already settled down. But Bristol was still young; we had plenty of time to discuss what we wanted out of a potential life together. As long as we were together, I didn’t care about the rest.

“That’s a great question, Miss Cooper.” Jack kept his voice professional, and I bit back a smile. He was handling the room like a champ. “I think our standard starting lineup is solid, but there is one change I would like to make. It’s a no-brainer for Goose to start in net. Our forwards will remain the same with the Knight-Slate-Lawson line, but at defense, I will be pairing Wyatt Banks with Logan Ford instead of Saint Booker.”

Bristol raised an impressed eyebrow, asking in response, “Any particular reason for the shakeup at D?”

Jack nodded, unruffled by her follow-up question. “Saint Booker is a hothead.” He’s not wrong there. Cheap shots are his guilty pleasure. “Beyond that, Ford might not be the best defenseman on paper, but if you look at his overall game, he’s the strongest player we’ve got.”

“Thanks, Coach.” Bristol flashed him a bright smile as we called on the next reporter.

“All right, bud, what kind of drills do you want to run today?” I asked Jack from where we stood behind the bench after I’d laced up his skates.

Jack was all business. “We need to work on winning the face-off and maintaining puck possession. These are professionals; I shouldn’t see blind drop passes and slapping at the puck. Too often, they’re just trying to survive, to clear the zone, instead of executing breakout passes. All they end up doing is giving up turnovers and getting stuck in the defensive zone for too long.”

I gaped at him. Were we sure he was only ten? That was some serious analysis. And he was spot on with his assessment.

Holding my arm out, I gestured to the ice full of players. “Well, then, Coach Jack. Put ’em to work.”

On wobbly legs, he stepped onto the ice. I gripped his elbow, keeping him upright, and blew my whistle to gain my team’s attention.

“Listen up!” I boomed, and all chatter stopped, eyes turning to me. “Coach Jack will be running practice. You answer to him. Understood?”

My players nodded, and the four kids in head-to-toe gear cheered. From what I heard, they’d gotten chummy this morning while signing their one-day contracts with management.

Jack squeezed his hand whistle—he was in a helmet with a cage to protect his face. “I want Jamie and Tyler at center ice!” The two boys skated forward, placing their sticks down on the Speed logo, standing opposite each other. “They will demonstrate properly winning the face-off. I expect the rest of you to pay attention. If you’re not winning face-offs, especially in the defensive zone, you’re giving your opponent an opportunity.”

From the corner of my eye, I caught Braxton giving an appraising nod. His nephew, Beau, was about the same age, and I could imagine he saw the potential in Jack.

Truth be told, I did too.

“Say thank you to Coach Sterling,” Jack’s mom, Debbie, prompted.

Immediately obeying, he chirped, “Thank you, Coach Sterling!”

Tossing him a wink, I offered, “I think since we’re colleagues, it’s safe for you to call me Maddox.”

His blue eyes grew comically large, and he nodded in a daze. “Maddox.”

I ruffled his blond hair. “That’s better. And you’re more than welcome.”

Turning to Debbie, I held out my phone. “If you want to give me your contact info, I can see about getting Jack into a few more games before the end of the season.” The Dream Day participants would be viewing tomorrow night’s game from a luxury box, courtesy of the Speed, but I wanted to do a little something for Jack.

Uncertain, she eyed the cell where I extended it. “Oh, you’ve already done enough.”

Shaking it, I stood firm. “Please let me do this.”

“Pleeeeeease, Mom,” Jack begged, watching our exchange.

Sighing, she gave in. “Oh, all right. If you insist.” Debbie typed in her phone number before handing me back the phone.

Immediately, I texted her my number. “Great. Now you have my info too. If Jack ever wants to catch up or has any more extremely valuable insight into my team he’d like to share, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

Placing her hand on her son’s shoulder, she guided him toward the exit. “We should get going.”

“Nice meeting you, Jack. Hope to see you again soon,” I called after them.

Debbie turned around, gratitude in her eyes as she mouthed, Thank you, before rounding the corner out of sight.

This event always made an impact, but I had a feeling this year’s would leave a lasting mark on my soul. And who knew, maybe someday I could offer Jack his start in coaching? Wouldn’t that be wild?

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 27

Bristol

It might’ve only been a couple of weeks, but Maddox and I had fallen into a rhythm. We kept our relationship professional while at work, but the minute we were at home—usually his—a transformation occurred, and we fell into our domestic roles.

Maddox was an amazing cook. He insisted that he prepare meals for us to share and joked that from now on, he would hand-select our wine pairing each evening. I was happy to allow him to take care of me, even though it took a minute to get used to.

And boy, did he take care of me at night. It was a miracle I could walk straight when entering the arena most mornings. With how little sleep we were getting, you’d think I’d be dead on my feet, but instead, I was invigorated. The steady stream of orgasms had my skin glowing.

It was so noticeable that Alyssa hounded me daily, demanding to know my secret. Eventually, I was forced to tell her the truth. It was sex. Lots and lots of mind-blowing sex with a virile man who made my toes curl with only a look.

She’d muttered, “Lucky bitch,” under her breath but said she was happy for me, and I knew she meant it. I’d disclosed my past during our early days of working together, so she knew I was due for a good guy to sweep me off my feet.

And that’s precisely what Maddox had done. I was walking on air.

I’d just pressed send on my daily article to my editor when Maddox plopped down onto his oversized leather couch beside me, plucking the computer from my hands and placing it on the coffee table.

Laughing, I teased, “Guess it’s a good thing I was done.”

He eased me into his arms, and I inhaled his scent. “I knew you were. I was sitting on my hands in the kitchen, patiently waiting until it was my time.”

I peeked up at him. “Your time, huh?”

Maddox smirked. “Best time of the day.”

Yeah, I couldn’t argue with that. I snuggled deeper into his hold, and he sighed in contentment.

“Bristol?”

“Hmm.” My eyes had slid shut, and I was dangerously close to falling asleep.

“Have you given any thought to Christmas? I was thinking we could take a quick trip during the mini break the league gives us. A few days in Mexico, maybe? Or the Caribbean? I’m not picky, as long as it’s warm. I know winter just started, but I’m sick of the cold already.”

“Umm.” I pushed off his chest to find panic in his eyes.

“Did I push too far? Is taking a trip too much? I just thought—“

I held up my hand, cutting him off. “It’s not that. All those ideas sound amazing. But I already have plans.”

“Oh.” Maddox’s mouth dropped open on that single syllable.

Intertwining our fingers, I gave a gentle squeeze. “I’m going home to Hartford. Apparently, my parents miss me or something and begged me to visit for the holidays. Plight of being the only child, I suppose.” I huffed out a dramatic sigh.

His warm chuckle rolled over me. “I get it. I’m a part of that club too, but mine are used to me being so far away. Plus, they see me a good bit during the summer, so it evens out with the Speed only visiting Seattle once a year.”

“Do you have a summer home there?”

“Sure do.” He nodded in confirmation, and I watched as fondness filtered into his gaze at the memory of home. “You’d love it there. Right on the Sound. It’s magical watching the sun set over the water. There’s nothing like it.”

I smiled, hopeful for the future. “Maybe you’ll take me there someday.”

“I’m counting on it, love.”

That term of endearment meant so much more now than the first time I’d heard it fall from his kissable lips. Because I knew that he did love me. And that knowledge warmed me from the inside out.

“So, we’re staying cold for Christmas then?” Maddox hedged.

“We?” I raised an eyebrow.

He stuck his lower lip out in a pout and gave me sad puppy-dog eyes. “You’re going to leave me here? All alone? On Christmas?”

“Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” I couldn’t help but laugh at his antics.

“Is it working?”

Rolling my eyes, I admitted, “A little.”

Maddox grinned wide at his triumph. “Great! Send me your flight details, and I’ll see if I can snag a last-minute ticket.”

When I cringed, he knew instantly that something was off. “What is it?”

Closing my eyes, I couldn’t bear to see his face when I said the words. “I’m driving.”

“Are you out of your mind?” His voice rose in volume.

“You know how I feel about flying,” I sighed, daring to peek at his reaction. He wasn’t so much mad as distraught.

He ran a hand through his thick hair, blowing out a heavy breath. “I get that. But you have to realize how much more dangerous it is to drive right now. You’d be going around Lake Erie in Ohio, so there’s lake-effect snow to consider, and then you have to drive through the mountains in Pennsylvania. There are always pile-ups on the interstate in those areas in winter. I thought you were doing better. You haven’t had a meltdown since that first trip.”

Those were excellent points, and I was forced to admit the real reason I’d elected to drive. “I’m afraid to die alone.” My lower lip trembled at the thought.

“Oh, Bristol.” Maddox wasted no time in gathering me into a hug so tight it threatened to suffocate me, but I didn’t care. He understood when nobody else did, and that was enough to allow the floodgates to open, and I wept into his chest.

“It’s okay, babe.” He stroked my hair gently, providing comfort. “I’m right here.”

Eventually, I managed to calm down to the point where only the occasional hiccup lingered.

“Sorry.” I sniffled, wiping my nose with the back of my wrist. “I know it’s silly.”

“No, it’s not,” he countered. “Everyone is scared of something. Take me, for example. The idea of you driving cross-country alone in winter and something happening to you is paralyzing, to the point where I’ll probably have nightmares tonight.” He cupped my face. “I can’t lose you, Bristol. It would kill me.”

“Really?” It was one thing for him to confess his love, but this went beyond. He was implying that he couldn’t live without me.

“What more can I do to show you how much I care?” He tapped my temple with a fingertip. “Words don’t seem to be getting through to you up here, so what’s it gonna take? You want action? How about a shiny diamond on your left hand?”

My eyes widened, and I slid to the other side of the couch. “That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

“How can you be so sure?” I was genuinely curious.

Maddox closed the gap between us. “Because when I’m with you, I’m whole.” He grasped my hand, placing it over the center of his chest. “Do you feel that? That’s my heart beating for you. Only you, Bristol.”

It was a lot to take in, so I dialed it back. “How about we start with the ‘meet the parents’ thing first?”

There was a flicker of disappointment in his green eyes, but he covered it quickly. “So, I can come?”

“Why not?” I shrugged. “Maybe I can get away with you being my dad’s gift. I’m sure he’ll forgive you for being a member of his hometown team’s rival the second you set foot over the threshold.”

His head dipped to kiss a path along my neck. “Should be easy. I got his daughter to switch allegiances.”

“That’s not exactly how I remember it happening.”

He ignored me, slipping a hand up my shirt and cupping my breast while he thumbed the nipple until I moaned, my head falling back onto the couch cushions.

“Not sure I can use the same tactics, though.”

“You’re ridiculous.” I sighed as his body covered mine.

When Maddox Sterling wanted something, he got it. I was living proof of that.

We pulled up to my childhood home in a rental SUV on Christmas Eve after a short flight from Indy, seated in first class. Maddox had taken care of all the arrangements after I agreed to let him accompany me home for the holidays. I hadn’t alerted my parents of the change of plans, only offering that I was bringing home a guest—a male guest. That meant they weren’t expecting us for a couple of hours yet. I hoped the element of surprise would work in our favor and my dad would be forced to act chill.

Yeah, keep dreaming. You brought home a high-profile former player who was once on his most-hated list as a die-hard Comets fan.

“This is it?” Maddox asked from the driver’s seat, surveying the modest two-story home.

“Yep.” I popped the P.

“It’s really close to the airport.”

“I’m aware,” I deadpanned, my muscles tensing at the reminder of why I hated to fly.

As if on cue, a plane flew overhead on its way to landing at the airport mere miles away, and I jumped.

Maddox gripped my hand, stroking my knuckles with his thumb—as he had the entire flight to Connecticut—to keep me calm. “Does that have something to do with—“

“Yes, and I don’t want to rehash it when I have to get on a plane back to Indy in forty-eight hours.” My words were clipped, and I realized it was the panic talking. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

I heard the creak of leather as Maddox shifted in the driver’s seat beside me. His free hand gripped my chin, turning my gaze away from the window until my eyes locked on his.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked, knowing how much the topic upsets you.” When I gave a slight nod to acknowledge his apology, his remorse slipped away, and a corner of his lips turned up. “I only mentioned it because I thought about how many times I’ve passed over this exact spot multiple times a year for the past decade and a half, never knowing the girl who would light up my world was right here.”

Gripping his wrist, I turned my face to kiss the center of his palm. “That’s the funny thing about people. Everyone’s a stranger until the day your paths cross.”

Maddox leaned across the center console, his hand sliding to the back of my neck to haul me in for a kiss. I opened for him instantly, clutching the collar of his wool coat to try and bring him closer. In the back of my mind, I wondered if we could sneak away to a hotel for a few hours since my parents wouldn’t be expecting us for a while.

He broke away first, pressing his forehead to mine as our ragged breathing mingled. “I thank God every day that our paths crossed.”

I would be in big trouble if he kept talking to me like that. After years of mistreatment by men, I was an absolute sucker for the romantic words freely falling from Maddox’s lips. I swear, some days, he put the heroes Dakota wrote to shame.

“We should probably head inside and see your folks.”

Letting out a whine, I pouted, “Do we have to?”

Pulling back, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek. “Aw, come on. They miss their baby girl,” he teased with a smile.

“Ugh.” I groaned. “They should’ve had more kids. How did that become my problem?”

“They got it perfect the first time. Why tempt fate?”

I shoved at his face, turning it to the side. “That was probably the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said. Please go back to the sexy Maddox I love before we go inside.”

“Say it again,” he growled, green eyes darkening.

“That was cheesy?” I knew what he wanted me to repeat, but I enjoyed messing with him.

“Nuh-uh. The other part,” he commanded.

“You’re sexy?” I bit my lip hard, fighting back a smile.

“Getting warmer . . .”

“Oh!” I exclaimed dramatically, like a lightbulb had gone off. “I love you?”

“That’s the one.” Maddox’s husky voice had my thighs clenching.

“Have I not said it before? I’m almost certain I have.” I tapped my index over my lips in mock thought.

“If we weren’t sitting outside your parents’ house right now, I’d put you over my knee.” There was a note of warning in his tone, and I knew he meant every word.

“That wouldn’t stop Sexy Maddox.” I winked.

A rumble worked its way up his chest. “Bristol . . .”

He was adorable when he was worked up, but since I’d had my fun, I decided to put him out of his misery.

Slipping from teasing to serious, I reached out to grasp his hand, saying softly, “I love you, Maddox.”

“Fuck.” His eyes slid closed, and his head dropped onto the headrest of his seat. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words?”

“Can’t have been more than a couple of months. Unless you’ve been stalking me, big guy.”

Maddox cracked an eye open to glare at me. “Why do you have to go and ruin it?”

I sighed, letting the vulnerability leak through my words. “Because it scares me, okay? The last time I told a guy I loved him, he cast me aside.”

His jaw tightened. “I’m not him.”

“I know you’re not.” My gaze slid out the passenger side window, ashamed that my past was tainting our budding relationship.

Maddox’s heavy exhale was loud in the small space. “I need you to look at me when I say this, Bristol.”

Swallowing, I turned to face him.

“I never knew I could love another person as deeply as I love you. I gladly take on the responsibility of caring for your physical and mental well-being. Your fights are my fights, no questions asked. And I will take it as a personal challenge to make you feel so secure in my love that you never have to wonder if I’m going to choose you day in and day out—because, in my mind, there’s no question about it; loving you is the only option.”

A tear rolled down my cheek, and I swiped it away quickly, muttering, “I’m gonna look like a hot mess,” as more flowed freely.

With a tender smile curving on his lips and pure love shining in his stunning green eyes, Maddox declared, “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

That statement was a testament to his love, and it set me over the top as a muffled sob sounded from my lips where I’d pressed a hand against them.

Maddox took action, unclipping my seatbelt and hauling me over the console and onto his lap. It was a tight squeeze, my hip jostling against the steering wheel, but I didn’t care. He tucked my head into his shoulder and held me while I let the overwhelming force of his love wash over me, truly sinking in for the first time.

Sniffling into his coat, which I was surely ruining with my snot, I asked, “Can we go somewhere for a little while? I can’t go in there like this.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He stroked my hair. “You never need to thank me for taking care of you.”

I crawled back to my side of the car, buckled, and we pulled away from my childhood home.

As we drove, I stared in wonder at the man filling out the driver’s seat, his eyes darting to mine every few seconds to check on me.

Out of nowhere, it struck me.

What I felt for Nix was infatuation.

With Maddox, I was finally learning what true love was.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 28

Maddox

After an hour spent walking around the Christmas market set up in downtown Hartford, where we’d purchased a few handcrafted gifts for Bristol’s parents, we returned to the home she’d grown up in north of the city.

Parking out front, she breathed out, “Let’s try this again.”

“Stay here,” I instructed, stepping outside.

Rounding the hood of our rental, I pulled her door open, offering my hand to help her down the step that lowered from the side of the vehicle.

She immediately curled into my side, fitting perfectly, like she’d always belonged there. Deciding to come back later for our bags, I kept her close as we approached the front door.

When Bristol reached for the doorknob without knocking, I asked, “You sure that’s a good idea? They aren’t expecting us yet. What if they think it’s an intruder?”

With a roll of her eyes, she pushed inside, throwing back, “Then I guess it’s a good thing my daddy doesn’t own a gun.”

“Little smartass,” I grumbled under my breath.

A feminine voice called out from deep within the house at the sound of the front door opening. “Bristol, honey? Is that you?”

“I’m home!” Bristol shouted in response.

Rushed footsteps sounded, and a woman in her mid-forties with red hair, just like Bristol’s, rounded the corner of the short hallway visible from the entryway. “Oh!” She picked up speed until she had the girl I loved wrapped in her arms.

Chuckling, Bristol peeled herself away from her mom. “It’s good to see you too.”

The older woman gave her daughter a playful frown as she threw both hands on her hips. “You’re early. I wanted to have dinner ready when you arrived.”

I chose that moment to break into this mini-family reunion. “That would be my fault. I insisted that we fly in, as the roads can be too treacherous at this time of year.”

Bristol’s mom was so focused on seeing her daughter home that she hadn’t noticed me standing there until I spoke, and her jaw dropped when her eyes trailed up my tall body until they reached my face.

“Whoa,” was all she could manage on an exhale. It was not lost on me that I was probably closer to her age than her daughter’s.

“Oh my God,” Bristol groaned. “Mom, put your tongue away.”

That seemed to snap her out of her trance, and she gave a tiny shake of her head as if to clear it. “Sorry. Where are my manners?” She offered me her hand. “You must be Bristol’s friend. I’m her mom, Daphne.”

“Maddox.” I shook her hand.

Daphne turned back to her daughter. “I can’t believe you got on a plane!”

Bristol rolled her eyes. “Mom, you know I travel all the time for work.”

“Right, right.” She nodded.

Returning to my side, Bristol slipped her hand into mine. “Actually, Maddox has been really helpful when we fly.”

“Oh.” Daphne’s gaze honed in on the intimate gesture. “Do you work for the team too?” she asked me.

“Something like that.” It was clear her mom wasn’t as into sports as her dad.

“Bristol, your dad’s out back in the shed doing God knows what. Why don’t you get your guest a drink, and I’ll see if I can tempt him inside to visit with you for a bit.” She smirked, and the resemblance to her daughter became even more clear. “Maybe I’ll tell him he lost track of time, and the football game started early. He’ll be running in here like his hair is on fire if he thinks he missed even a minute.”

When she was gone, I shed my coat, placing it on the rack near the door and hanging Bristol’s beside it.

“Guess you weren’t kidding when you said your dad was a sports nut,” I mused as she led me further into the house, stopping in the kitchen.

“You have no idea,” Bristol said under her breath as she opened the fridge and produced a bottle of white wine.

“I’ll take that.” I eased the chilled glass from her hand.

“Never gonna let me live that down, are you?” she teased.

Shaking my head, I vowed, “Never.” Dipping my head, I grazed the shell of her ear with my lips. “It’ll be a great story to tell the grandkids someday.”

I was rewarded with a full-body shiver from the woman I loved. She might be putting up walls to protect herself so she didn’t end up hurt again, but there was no denying she wanted to believe there could be a real future for us. I had nothing but time to convince her that I couldn’t picture myself with anyone else. Ever.

Bristol busied herself searching kitchen drawers for a corkscrew. When she located it, she handed it to me without making eye contact. I opened the wine as she placed two glasses on the counter to be filled.

“Holy fucking shit.” A male voice sounded from behind us, and I spun around to find a man in his late forties with graying brown hair staring at me with wide blue eyes that matched those of the girl standing beside me.

Daphne smacked her husband on the bicep, chastising, “Russ! Language!”

Bristol approached her father. “Daddy, I told you I was bringing home a guy.”

Russ Cooper spared his daughter a glance before retraining his sharp gaze on me. “Yeah, a guy. Not Maddox fucking Sterling.”

“Honestly, I don’t know why I even bother,” Daphne muttered, stepping into the kitchen to check something inside the oven.

Setting the wine bottle on the counter, I approached the man staring me down, offering him my hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Cooper.”

He snorted, ignoring my gesture and turning to Bristol. “Is this for real?”

She nudged him with her shoulder. “Be nice. He’s special to me.”

The way she peeked at me through her lowered lashes with a shy grin had my heart squeezing inside my chest as I admitted to her father, “Bristol’s very special to me too.”

Eyeing our private exchange, he cleared his throat. “Well, shit. Here I was thinking you were in trouble bringing your boss home with you.” He finally took my outstretched hand, giving it a hearty shake. “It’s just Russ.”

“Russ,” I noted aloud with a nod.

“He’s not my boss, Daddy,” Bristol clarified. “I work for the newspaper, not the Speed. I only report on them.”

He grunted as if that made little difference. “You’re not in the other kind of trouble, are you?” There was a pointed look toward her stomach.

“Lord help me,” she muttered. “No.”

Russ shrugged. “I’m in no position to judge.” He threw an arm around Bristol’s shoulders. “This one was the best little mistake I ever made.”

My eyes bulged, and Bristol’s face turned red. Five minutes with the man, and I’d discovered he had no filter. I could only imagine the types of things Bristol had heard out of his mouth growing up.

Bristol dared to peek at me. “Aren’t you glad you decided to tag along?”

I flashed her my most charming smile. “I’m learning so much about you, babe.”

“You like football?” Russ didn’t seem to care about my exchange with his daughter.

“Sure. What red-blooded American doesn’t?” I replied.

“Good. You’re with me in the den. Game’s about to start.”

Eager to get on Russ’s good side, considering I wanted a permanent place in Bristol’s life, I looked to her for permission. She must have seen the need for acceptance written all over my face because she slipped from beneath her father’s arm and shooed us. “Go on, you two. Try not to yell too loud. No one needs the cops called on Christmas Eve because a ref made a call you didn’t like.”

Following the man into a room off the kitchen, I came to an abrupt halt, taking in my surroundings. Bristol had called this room a den, but it could have just as easily passed as a shrine to the Connecticut Comets. Every wall was covered in memorabilia. The only family photos present were of Russ and Bristol in their navy jerseys featuring the Comets logo from various games over the years.

“You gonna sit down or what?” Russ’s gruff voice demanded my attention, and I shook off my surprise enough to join him.

Crossing the room, I sank onto the opposite side of the navy and gray upholstered couch—Comets colors. The man took being a superfan to the next level.

The Hartford Hawks had just kicked off, and we sat in companionable silence for a while.

At the first commercial break, Russ said, “I have to say, I’m a big fan.”

I fought to hold in a snort. That was doubtful.

Gesturing around the room, I mused, “Yeah, sure looks like it.”

He chuckled. “No, seriously. You taking that penalty in OT during Game 7 against the Comets?” Russ brought his fingers to his lips as he smacked them. “Chef’s kiss.”

I sucked in a sharp breath of air through my teeth. “Yeah, that one still stings.”

“I’ll bet. There’s no doubt that whoever won that series was going to win it all.” And the Comets had gone on to win the championship that year.

Nodding, I agreed, “You’re probably right.”

“Shame what happened to you.”

The phantom pain in my right knee kicked up for the first time in months, and I rubbed my fingers against the spot where my scars would serve as a permanent reminder of what I’d lost that day.

“Yeah.” I didn’t really want to talk about it but was trying not to come off as rude.

“Listen, Maddox.” Russ’s tone sharpened, and I turned to face him. He nodded toward the kitchen. “She doesn’t know I know about the last pro she dated.” A hard expression stole over his features. “Dated is too nice of a word for it if you ask me.”

“You won’t get an argument from me on that count,” I gritted out.

“I’m not making any excuses for the idiot, but he was young—I can only imagine what it must be like to have women throwing themselves at you on a daily basis and how hard it is to resist. But you’re old enough to know better. Treat her right and we won’t ever have an issue, understood?”

“I have no intentions of hurting your daughter, sir.”

Russ shrugged. “No one ever plans on hurting the people they love, but sometimes it happens anyway. My daughter’s got a big heart. She loves hard. I don’t want to see her living life on the run after another man promises her the world and then snatches it away. So, when times get tough—and don’t you dare try to tell me they won’t because life doesn’t work that way—you make sure to fight for her.”

If only he knew how hard I already had fought to earn a spot in Bristol’s life.

“That’s solid advice. Thank you, Russ.”

He grunted, turning back to the TV screen, and didn’t utter another word to me until the ladies called us in for dinner.

“I think your dad likes me,” I whispered in the dark, lying beside Bristol in bed.

She turned onto her side, bringing her hand to rest over my bare chest. “What tipped you off? That he’s letting you have a sleepover in my room?”

“That was a nice surprise.” My arm slid down her back, teasing the curve of her ass where the T-shirt she’d stolen from me had ridden up. “But I think he gave me the ‘dad’ speech.”

The moonlight filtered over her face as she peered up at me, her brows drawn down. “What’s the ‘dad’ speech?”

“You know, the one where it’s all ‘marriage is hard; don’t give up on each other’.” I blew out a breath. “There was definitely a ‘don’t hurt my daughter, or I’ll hunt you down and kill you’ thrown in there for good measure.”

“And this is why I don’t bring guys home,” Bristol grumbled.

I tickled her side, and she squirmed away. “He already thought you might be pregnant. Would it really be better if we showed up one day, married with a kid, because you were too afraid I’d spook if you brought me home sooner? I don’t mind it. He’s only looking out for you like a good father should.”

“Hmm. How about we circle back to you always bringing the conversation around to marriage and kids?”

Turning on my side so we were facing each other, I tucked my arm beneath my head. “Sure, I’d love to talk about marriage and kids with you.”

Bristol raised her eyes to the ceiling in annoyance. “That’s not what I meant. You’re jumping, like, twenty steps. I just got out of a long-term, not-really-a-relationship kinda situation. And while I do love you, I don’t want anyone to think it’s me rebounding.”

“I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. It’s our life.”

“I know. And I can appreciate that your head’s already in that place. I can’t tell you how to feel. But I need you to respect that mine’s not there yet. Okay?”

She made a good point. It was asking too much to discuss long-term plans when she was fresh out of a bad relationship. No matter how strong my feelings for her.

“Okay,” I agreed. “We’ll table that convo for now.”

“Thank you.”

Bristol lay back in bed, resting her hands behind her head. The position left her legs splayed, with her shirt riding up enough to showcase that she wasn’t wearing any panties.

My hand teased over the bare skin of her inner thigh, skimming higher until I brushed against her warm center. Shifting my body closer, I said in her ear, “You make an excellent point, though. Not sure I’m ready to give up having you all to myself.”

With that, I dipped between her thighs, relishing the soft moan that slipped from her lips as I circled two fingers over her clit.

Even though her hips bucked, searching for more contact, she protested breathlessly, “We probably shouldn’t. These walls are thin. Could make for a very awkward situation around the breakfast table tomorrow if we’re overheard.”

I nibbled on her earlobe, complaining, “But I haven’t had a proper taste of my pussy since last night.”

That earned me a giggle that transitioned into a moan as I picked up the pace of my fingers working her over. She began to shift restlessly on the bed, chasing her pleasure.

“Just a taste,” I promised, slinking down the bed, ducking beneath the thigh closest to me.

Suddenly, Bristol tensed above me. “You can’t!” she whisper-shouted.

I froze. Up to that point, everything had been playful, but the shift in her tone told me she was serious.

“What’s wrong?” I couldn’t keep the concern from my voice.

She draped an arm over her eyes. “Nothing.”

“This doesn’t work if you don’t talk to me, Bristol.” My forehead dropped onto her thigh.

A muffled groan sounded from above, followed by several deep breaths. “Fine. You’re really gonna make me say it?”

Frustrated, I huffed, “I don’t even know what ‘it’ is.”

“I have my period, okay?”

“So?” I didn’t see the problem.

“So?” Incredulous, she repeated my question. “So, I would think it would be obvious why you can’t go down on me tonight.”

Shoving the hem of her T-shirt higher until her belly was exposed, I asked, “Why not? You clearly have the situation handled since you’re not wearing panties and the sheets don’t resemble a crime scene. Plus, I’ve heard orgasms are great for relieving cramps.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Bristol muttered.

“Is that you giving me the green light? Because it could go either way.”

“I—” She paused for a second, and I could almost hear the gears turning in her head. “I don’t think I can be quiet enough. And I’m not really in the mood to have more underwear shoved inside my mouth.”

“Are you out of excuses yet? Because I have the perfect gag for you tonight.” I flashed her a wicked grin.

Bristol sighed, her blue eyes peeking down at me for the first time since explaining that she was on her period. “You seriously want to do this?”

I placed a kiss over her mound, another over her belly, then I dropped one over her racing heart as I climbed up her body. When I brought my face even with hers, I made sure she could see the sincerity in my eyes as I said, “Baby, I would die for the taste of your pussy. I need you to know that.”

Her breathing hitched, and the blue of her eyes was rapidly replaced with black as her pupils dilated, giving away that she wanted me to bury my face between her legs as much as I did.

“You make it really hard to say no when you talk like that,” Bristol forced out between pants as my fingers dove back into the heat between her thighs.

My lips lingered over the pulse point fluttering at the base of her throat before trailing a path along the curve of her neck. Her back arched as soft moans filtered into the air.

When I reached her ear, I whispered huskily, “Kinda what I was counting on.”

She hummed, which was the closest thing I was going to get to consent, as she was already lost to lust. If she said no again or asked me to stop, I would, but for now, it would seem she was ready and willing to give herself over to the pleasure I promised.

I began to move down her body once more, but she halted me by gripping my hardened cock. Her soft hand gave a firm tug, and I thrust into it, groaning. I should have known my little hellcat wouldn’t go down without a fight.

When my head dropped against her breast, she purred, “How about this? I take care of your little problem here”—she slipped inside my boxer briefs, squeezing my cock skin to skin—“and we call it a night.”

Rearing back, I scoffed. “Little?” The woman couldn’t even get her fingers all the way around my girth, for crying out loud.

Bristol rolled her eyes. “What do you want me to say?” Her voice took on the breathy quality of a porn star. “Oh, Maddox. You have the biggest cock I’ve ever seen in real life. Please let me put it in my mouth until I’m gagging around it.”

Even aroused out of my mind, I chuckled. She was amazing, bringing levity to my life when outside forces had threatened to crush my spirit. I never wanted to live another day without her by my side. Even if she wasn’t ready to accept that inevitability yet, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she was the person I was always meant to find. Just never expected it to be in a karaoke bar, of all places.

“Baby, it’s like you read my mind.” I tugged her nipple between my teeth.

“I did?” Bristol quickly covered her confusion with confidence. “Of course I did. Glad you’ve finally come to your senses.”

Yeah, she was in for a big surprise. I still fully intended to drink my fill of her delicious pussy, but she needed a gag and I came equipped with one, as she’d so eloquently pointed out.

Laying back, I rested both hands beneath my head, assuming the position for her to blow me. Blue eyes flaring, she licked her lips and crawled backward on her knees until she was positioned between my open thighs. Tugging my underwear low enough that I could kick them aside, she brought her mouth to hover over my cock.

I allowed myself exactly one second to enjoy the tight, wet suction before tensing my abs and sitting up. My hands anchored on her hips and lifted them, swiveling her body until her pussy landed right on my face, as I’d intended from the start. I was lowering myself back onto the bed when the surprise of my actions finally caught up to Bristol, and she wrenched her mouth off my dick and whipped her head around to face me.

“What are you doing?” The words were choppy, her breathing ragged.

Pulling her hips down enough that I could take that first delicious swipe through her slit, I groaned, explaining, “My pussy needs me. Scratch that. I need my pussy. Maybe it’s both. Kinda like the chicken or the egg kinda situation. Doesn’t really matter. So long as I get bathed in your scent, your flavor coating my tongue.”

A wrinkle formed between her brows as her hazy mind tried to process the new position and my words. “But I thought . . .” She shook her head. “But you said . . .”

She needed a little help, so I offered it. “What I said was I needed the nectar of your sweet pussy sliding down my throat, drowning me, but you were the one that offered up my cock as a gag. It’s a win-win, really, don’t you think, love?”

Bristol trembled in my arms as realization sank in that I would be eating her out as she sucked me off, her mouth stuffed so full of my cock she couldn’t make a sound loud enough to alert her parents of our activities down the hall from where they slept.

Keeping one hand on her hip so she didn’t attempt to crawl away, I tangled the other in her long red hair, forcing her mouth back toward my waiting cock. As soon as her lips were wrapped around the head and she sank lower, taking me impossibly deep, I groaned, “Do us both a favor and don’t bite off my dick when you come.”

There was a muffled response, but she didn’t stop, didn’t pull off, the vacuum of her mouth driving me insane. Confident she was going to be a good girl and stay put, I let my hand trail up her spine until I had both hands on her ass, spreading her open wider for me.

She was drenched, which was perfect because I was starving.

My tongue darted out, circling her swollen clit. Bristol had been trying to hover over my mouth, but her legs gave out as I teased that hidden bud, her weight dropping so she was firmly seated atop my face. I fucking loved that she was so lost to pleasure that she didn’t have any concerns about suffocating me. Her hips bucked frantically, taking what she wanted, which was the ultimate turn-on—she was always so uninhibited in bed.

Focusing on her was all I needed to stave off my own orgasm; it was the perfect distraction because, God help me, I would never take my pleasure before hers.

The closer she drew to climax, the sloppier her mouth became. Her jaw had gone slack, moans slipping out around my cock as it merely rested between her parted lips.

Intent on directing her focus back to the task at hand, I slapped her ass, causing her to jolt atop me. A faint whimper reached my ears, but I kept my tone firm. “Keep sucking, beautiful. Moan around my cock. Let me feel it when you come.”

On command, she closed her lips and moaned around my shaft, the vibrations settling deep within my balls. That was all the prompting I needed to get her off as quickly as possible before I spilled my load down her throat without warning with my own mouth full.

Arching my neck, I latched my teeth around her clit, tugging as my tongue flicked furiously against it. Even muffled, her moans grew so loud I knew there was a chance they would be overheard, but there was no stopping this train now. My desperation for her to come outweighed my own sexual needs, even as I felt my balls drawing tight.

Finally, a rush of arousal flooded my face, rolling down the back of my throat as Bristol’s body tensed and her mouth slid impossibly deeper onto my cock with her moans of release.

I was so caught up in drinking her down that I hadn’t realized I was seconds away from coming myself. Forcing her pussy off my face, I gasped for air, my brain screaming that I needed to warn her before it was too late.

The way she had me primed, I knew this wasn’t going to be a small orgasm, and if she wasn’t prepared to swallow, she’d likely choke on my cum.

I found my voice just in the nick of time.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 29

Bristol

“I’m gonna come.” An insistent tapping on my leg accompanied the words.

Pleasure still rolled over my body in waves from Maddox’s skilled tongue between my thighs, but that was nothing compared to the power I felt coursing through my veins at the realization that he was on the precipice of losing control. All because of me.

So many times, I’d had his cock in my mouth and something had interrupted us, or he’d tugged me off before I brought him to completion. I wanted to be his unraveling, so unless he forcefully removed me, I wasn’t going to stop. Not until he finished.

Maddox was the most unselfish lover I’d ever encountered, so it was time for me to return the favor.

I moaned around his cock, forcing my mouth down further until I gagged when the tip touched the back of my throat. Keeping him there, I swallowed, hoping it would drive him insane. Hell, I was counting on it.

His hips lifted off the bed, shoving him further down my throat. I focused on breathing through my nose as I maintained the seal of my lips around his shaft.

Maddox buried his face in my pussy again just as his cock swelled, the first spurts of hot cum shooting into my mouth as my throat muscles worked to swallow it down. His groans vibrated against my sensitive flesh, and I knew it wouldn’t take much for him to get me off again.

How he’d convinced me to let him eat me out while on my period, I would never know, but blissed out, I couldn’t find it within me to care. If he was going out of his way to prove he was nothing like any of the men who’d come before, he was doing a bang-up job.

When he was spent, I let him slip from my mouth, taking in deep breaths of air after being deprived for so long. It was no small miracle that I hadn’t passed out from lack of oxygen, but in reality, it probably made the orgasm Maddox wrought between my thighs that much more intense, so I couldn’t complain.

“Fuck, Bristol,” Maddox groaned against my core.

I crawled off his face, turning so I could curl against his side. Smug, I teased, “What? Get a little more than you bargained for?”

“Something like that.” His chest vibrated against my face as he spoke.

“If I recall, this was all your idea.” I kissed his sweaty skin.

“Should’ve known you would turn it around on me.”

Peeking up at him, I hedged, “So, what you’re saying is . . . you’re not the only one with a magic mouth?”

Maddox huffed out a soft laugh. “Your mouth crossed the line from magic to downright sinful.”

I traced a path over the hard ridges of muscle lining his torso. “Maybe next time, I’ll let you come on my tits when we can take a nice long shower after.”

“Hmm. A shower sounds amazing.” His dick swelled to life against my thigh. “Takes care of cleanup.” Maddox sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Once he was standing, he extended a hand toward me. “You coming?”

He isn’t suggesting what I think he is, is he?

“Are you serious?” I stared at him in stunned disbelief.

“So fucking serious. I need to be inside you, baby. Don’t make me beg.”

That answers that question.

Unable to hide a smirk, I threw his own words back at him. “Aw, but you’re so pretty when you beg.”

Fire flashed in his emerald eyes as he walked his hands across the mattress until he had me caged in. “You want me to get down on my knees for you, baby?”

Fuuuuuuuuuck.

I couldn’t stop my whole body shudder at his words and the image they conjured in my mind of me standing over him, one leg thrown over his shoulder as he buried his face between my thighs.

Suddenly, I was no longer hesitant to give in to his request for shower sex. On my period. In my parents’ house.

I was no better than a horny teenager at this point, sneaking around to get laid.

Maddox must have seen it in my eyes because he stood up straight, turning on a bedside lamp and searching for his underwear. Locating them, he tugged them up his thick thighs and stopped beside his open suitcase to pull on a T-shirt. I was still wearing the one of his I’d thrown on to sleep in, and it covered me down to mid-thigh when I slid off the side of the bed.

Clasping my hand, he tugged me toward the door, shielding my body with his as he cracked it open, peeking outside.

“Coast is clear,” he whispered, and we tiptoed to the full bath across the hall.

My parents had their own, attached to their bedroom, so this had always been mine growing up. The shelves still held many of my beauty and hygiene products so I wouldn’t have to pack them when I came to visit during college.

Maddox latched the door, flicking the lock. He stepped toward the shower, turning the faucet. Water rushed into the tub, but he didn’t switch the flow to the showerhead.

“In you go.” He gestured to the far side of the tub after testing the temperature of the water with his hand.

I raised an eyebrow, quickly reminded of why we were about to have sex in the shower and not in my bed. “Uh . . .” I shifted on my feet, casting a glance toward the toilet. “I need to take care of something first.” Widening my eyes, I hoped he understood my meaning.

“Into the tub, Bristol.” His tone brooked no argument, so I shucked my shirt and stepped into the tub, the ceramic cool beneath my feet. Maybe this was a lesson he needed to learn the hard way.

Maddox tapped the outside of my thigh. “Leg up.”

When I failed to move, his hand circled my ankle, lifting it onto the edge of the tub. That hand then skimmed up the inside of my leg where I stood spread for him.

Panicked, I asked, “Wh-what are you doing?”

Green eyes peered up as he knelt before me. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

It was too intimate a thought to even say aloud, so I stared mutely at him as his hand reached between my thighs. A frown formed on his face, and his head tilted to the side as he brought it closer.

“Problem?” My voice was breathy, but a smug satisfaction shone through. It was clear he was in over his head.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a string?” he mused.

My face flamed, even as the illusion of his inexperience in this arena was shattered, and jealousy gripped me.

“Done this before?” I gritted out.

“Hardly,” he deadpanned. “Or else I would have finished the job by now.”

“Why don’t you let me handle it, then? Wouldn’t want to ruin your delicate male sensibilities.”

Irritation marred his handsome face. “Don’t think pissing me off is going to make me want to fuck you any less. It’ll only be more rough than I initially planned.”

The thought of rough sex had my knees threatening to buckle, which wasn’t exactly a good thing, considering my weight was currently supported on a single leg.

Maddox went back to his visual inspection between my thighs as steam filled the small room. “I can do it. If I can just find the damn string!” Frustration laced those final words.

Leaning against the shower wall, I closed my eyes. I couldn’t look at him as I confessed, “It’s inside.”

His confusion was audible. “What do you mean it’s inside?”

I blew out a breath, certain I would die of embarrassment at any moment. “I tucked it inside.”

“Why in the world would you do that?”

“Because I don’t like the string shifting around every time I walk, okay?” My defense came out harsher than I expected, my voice raising.

“Okay, then.”

Maddox stopped asking questions, slipping a finger inside me and hooking the string. He tugged gently, meeting resistance, so he used more force until I felt the tampon dislodge and slide free.

The rattling of the trash can reached my ears a split second before the water spit out in a steady stream from the showerhead, warming my bare skin. Fingers gripped my chin, and I forced my eyes open.

Maddox stood gloriously naked before me, steam rising around him as water cascaded over his shoulders and down his muscled chest. The man could have easily passed for a Greek god, and somehow, he’d set his sights on me.

“You good?” His eyes searched mine.

My hands came up to splay across his abs, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Just my first time doing this,” I admitted.

A devilish grin curved on his face. “Shower sex?”

I shot him a glare. “No. Not shower sex.”

“Just checking.” He smirked before dropping his head to pepper kisses along my neck until I sighed, becoming putty in his hands. “I want the rest of your firsts, Bristol. Every last one of them.”

Even as my blood heated beneath his touch, he found a way to speak directly to my heart, reminding me that he was in love with me. He’d made it so very easy to fall for him.

“Then take it,” I breathed out.

“That’s my girl.” Maddox groaned as his hands slid over my ass to grip the back of my thighs, lifting me with ease.

A shriek left my lips when my back was pressed against the cool tile of the shower wall. I tried to arch away, but his body pinned me there, his hips nestled between my thighs, the tip of his cock teasing my entrance.

“You ready?” I could barely make out his low, husky voice over the rushing water.

Instead of answering, I shifted my weight, allowing myself to sink onto his waiting cock a few inches.

Maddox’s head dropped forward to the wall over my shoulder, and he slammed home so hard that I cried out at the stretch. He filled me so perfectly, even if it was a shock every time.

“You feel how well we fit together?” he grunted in my ear as he brought his hips back only to surge forward again, sparking pleasure down my spine. “It’s like you were made for me. Only me.”

“Yes!” I cried, because I believed it to be true. No one could ever own my body like he did.

“Fuck. I’m close already. Your tight little pussy is squeezing me so hard, love.”

Tingles spread out from my core, my own orgasm looming. “I’m right there. Make me come, Maddox. Please.”

His hands held my hips steady as he pounded into me hard, bending his knees to shift the angle just right until I screamed, stars bursting behind my eyes. I went limp in his arms, but he kept thrusting, using my body for his pleasure until he roared his release.

Even boneless and sated, I let out a tiny giggle.

Breathing heavily beside my ear, Maddox forced out between pants, “If you’re laughing after that, I’m not doing it right.”

I buried my face into his silky wet hair, stifling another round of giggles. “Sorry. Just thinking the shower wasn’t loud enough to drown that out.”

Maddox huffed out a breathless laugh. “I’m sure they were young once. At least they know their daughter is sexually satisfied.”

“Not sure that’s high on the list of wants parents have for their children. Usually, it’s the basics, like stability and security.”

He pulled back enough to pin me with his sparkling green gaze. “So call it extra credit.”

“You’re ridiculous, but I still love you.” I brushed a soft kiss across his lips.

The humor lining his face melted away to be replaced with an expression of pure affection. “God, I love you so much, Bristol. I’ve never felt like this in my entire life.”

“You must be feeling something to face shark week head-on. Literally,” I teased, still in shock that he hadn’t batted a single eyelash when I’d told him, instead becoming even more insistent that we be intimate.

“Real men aren’t afraid of a little blood. But speaking of, let’s get you all cleaned up before I tuck you back into bed.” He shifted enough that his softening dick slid from my body before setting me down on wobbly legs.

Maddox wasn’t a “wham, bam, thank you, ma’am” kind of lover. He carefully washed every inch of my body, then held me close under the warm spray until it cooled enough to chill, and we got out.

He was, without a doubt, my comfort, my safe place.

And to think I’d almost closed the door on any chance we might’ve had.

“Did I hear the shower running last night?” my mom asked from beside me where we were cooking up Christmas breakfast.

I felt my cheeks heat and busied myself chopping potatoes for the home fries I planned to fry up. “Hmm. I didn’t hear anything.”

Mom gave me a gentle nudge with her elbow. “Your hair would suggest otherwise, sweetheart. Haven’t seen you with that ‘slept on wet hair’ look in ages.”

“Oh, right.” I tried to cover my tracks. “Yeah, that was me. My back was stiff from the plane and I couldn’t sleep, so I stood under the hot water for a while.”

Chop, chop, chop. Act cool, Bristol.

“Ah, that makes more sense,” Mom mused. “I thought I heard some groaning too.”

I choked on my own spit, coughing uncontrollably.

“Oh, goodness!” Mom exclaimed, patting me on the back.

I stepped away, muttering, “I’m fine,” on my way to the sink for a glass of water.

The cool liquid soothed my scratchy throat, and just as I was relaxing, my mother mused, “Oh, to be young again. I wouldn’t mind having a big, strong man like that blow my back out.”

Water sprayed from my mouth, and I whipped around to stare at my mother wide-eyed, screeching, “Mom!”

Oh my God. Cue up the headstone now—Bristol Cooper died on Christmas Day of the embarrassment of her mother overhearing her having sex.

Maddox burst into the kitchen, having heard the commotion. “What’s wrong?”

When he scanned my face, I gave him the ultimate death glare, gritting, “Out!” and he disappeared from the room quickly.

Mom tsked. “That wasn’t very polite, Bristol.”

“Neither is ogling your daughter’s boyfriend, Mom.”

She shrugged, completely unphased. “I’m forty-four, honey, not dead. And dead is what I’d have to be not to appreciate the athletic specimen you’ve brought home.”

I wrinkled my nose. Maddox was turning thirty-six in a few weeks, making him only eight years younger than my mom. I’d never minded our significant age gap, but it was still weird to realize that both my mom and I were well within his dating range.

Stepping across the kitchen to resume my chopping, I muttered, “I’m never coming home again.”

An arm looped over my shoulder. “Oh, don’t be silly. I’m only having a little bit of fun with you.”

“I’m not laughing,” I grumbled, trying to focus so I didn’t accidentally cut off a finger.

She kissed the side of my head. “Enjoy your youth, sweetheart. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Even if she had been completely inappropriate, she had a point. We only got one life, and I was glad I’d finally reached a place where I was enjoying mine.

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Chapter 30

Bristol

“Do I look okay?” I smoothed my hands over my skirt nervously.

Maddox’s hungry gaze from across the hotel room had my blood heating and my pulse kicking up. “You look good enough to eat, baby.”

When he stalked toward me, intention in his eyes, I held out both hands. “Oh, no. I know that look. We are due for dinner with your mother in thirty minutes. I’ve already been through the ‘I know you’re having sex’ embarrassment with my own mom. I don’t need to up the ante with yours by showing up to the restaurant late. My pale skin will never cool enough in time, and she’ll know exactly why.”

A rumble sounded from deep within Maddox’s chest. “Goddamn. I love when you’re pink for hours after I fuck you.”

“Later,” I promised, sidestepping him and heading for the door.

Smirking, he pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. “You know, I think I’m coming down with something. Maybe we should cancel.”

“Nice try.” I pulled the door open. “Out you go.”

Pouting, Maddox trudged toward the door, looking edible in a navy blue suit that paired perfectly with my cranberry sweater dress. “So mean,” he whined as he crossed the threshold into the hall ahead of me.

“Dinner was your idea,” I reminded him. “I’m not going to be the young hussy that keeps Mama Sterling from her baby boy the one time he visits Seattle during the season.”

He linked his fingers through mine, and we walked together toward the elevator bank.

“Fine,” he huffed. “But when we get back, I’m going to take out my frustrations on your hot little body.”

A tremor ran down the length of my spine, and his chuckle beside me betrayed that he’d felt it.

“We’ll see,” was all I could manage as we stepped into the elevator.

The restaurant Maddox’s mother chose was right on the water, the lights of Seattle sparkling in the reflection of the wavering surface. A hostess informed us our party was already waiting and led us to a table near the window.

A woman in her early sixties with gray hair cut into a bob stood at the sight of us. It was easy to tell she shared genetic material with the man I loved because she had the same stunningly green eyes that tracked our motion across the crowded restaurant. What took me by surprise was the tall man who rose to stand beside her. He was maybe a decade older than Maddox’s mom.

I looked to Maddox in question, but he shrugged, even though his hand gripped mine a touch tighter.

“Maddox!” His mom held her arms open once we got close enough, and Maddox let go of my hand to accept her embrace.

“Hey, Mom,” he said softly while she held him tight.

She pulled back enough to whisper, “She’s so pretty,” and I blushed.

Maddox pulled me to his side and introduced me. “Mom, this is Bristol Cooper. Bristol, this is my mom, Vivian Waller.”

My eyebrows rose when I heard his mom had a different last name, as he hadn’t mentioned that before. Now that I thought about it, he hadn’t told me very much about his childhood, outside of the hockey parts. It was just another reminder that what we shared was still so new; we had a lot to learn about each other.

I extended my hand. “So nice to meet you, Ms. Waller.”

She clasped both of her hands over mine. “Oh, aren’t you adorable?” She peeked at Maddox. “Vivian is just fine.”

“Vivian,” I confirmed, giving her a smile I hoped exuded confidence. There was no question I would be judged tonight, but I wanted to make a great first impression.

When she released her hold on my hands, she looped her arm around that of the man hanging back. “This is Lewis, my husband.”

For a moment, I simply stared, trying to process why Maddox hadn’t told me he had a stepdad. When I peeked at him, his jaw was set tight, but he nodded to the man, muttering his name in acknowledgment.

“Pleasure.” Lewis took my hand, bringing it to his lips and brushing my knuckles.

Maddox’s grip tightened on my waist almost painfully. There was definitely a story there. But now was not the time to ask.

Vivian clapped her hands. “Let’s sit! I’ve taken the liberty of ordering a bottle of Pinot Grigio since I assume we will all be having seafood this evening.” She directed her next comment right at me. “You can’t come to the Pacific Northwest and not eat straight from the sea. It’s a sin! You won’t get anything quite so fresh in the Midwest, I’m sure.”

“Actually, I’m from New England,” I offered.

“Oh!” Her green eyes widened. “Well, then you know!”

Maddox held a chair for me, waiting until I was seated before sitting beside me, keeping a protective arm around my waist. The tension radiating off him was palpable, and I wondered if it had anything to do with his mom bringing her husband. He hadn’t mentioned that we would be meeting anyone other than his mother, and I was getting the vibe that he wasn’t super fond of his stepdad.

I sipped the chilled white wine as Vivian did the same. She lowered her glass and looked me directly in the eye, asking, “So, when are you giving me grandbabies?”

“Mom!” Maddox groaned.

Only mildly stunned, I joked, “Well, there’s no denying the two of you are related.”

Vivian bounced in her seat. “Does that mean soon?” Her gaze slid to her son. “I’m not getting any younger, honey. I’m the last one of my friends left without them, and if you don’t get busy soon, I’m afraid I’ll be too old to enjoy them!”

I turned to Maddox, lowering my voice. “Remind me to keep our mothers far apart from each other.” Neither one of them had any qualms about discussing our private sex life, and Maddox’s had taken it a step further, demanding we procreate.

He hummed in response, addressing his mother. “Not exactly appropriate dinner conversation, Mom. Bristol and I only just started seeing each other.”

Vivian waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t try to fool me into believing this isn’t serious. You’ve never brought a girl home to meet me before.”

Curious, I peeked at Maddox. He’d been the one to ask to come home to Hartford with me to meet my parents. He was thirty-six, now; I just assumed he’d been through a serious relationship once or twice before. Guess I was wrong on that count.

His free hand covered mine where it rested atop the table as he declared, “You’re right, Mom. Bristol is special. She’s the most important person in my life.”

The world faded away as we stared at each other.

Maddox had made good on his promise to put me at the center of his universe. Each day, he proved that in new ways. Today, it was claiming me in front of his mother. I never had to doubt whether his heart beat for me because he wasn’t shy about sharing his feelings. He was physically and verbally affectionate in a way I’d never known before, and it made my soul sing.

He had to be the one because I couldn’t imagine anything feeling better than this.

Vivian’s sigh broke through our little bubble. “New love is always so beautiful to watch. Seems like only yesterday I was in that place myself.”

Maddox grunted in response, picking up his menu.

With his wife dominating the conversation, Lewis remained silent throughout dinner, and I wondered if it had anything to do with how standoffish his stepson was, or if he was normally reserved.

Guess I wasn’t the only one with people in their past who made them uncomfortable.

Stepping through the door of Maddox’s hotel room, I slipped out of my heels, sighing in relief. Strong arms slipped around my waist as his voice spoke in my ear. “Need a foot rub?”

While I knew he was good for it, always putting me first, there was a suggestion that it would lead to sex.

I let him hold me, giving myself a minute to enjoy the comfort of his embrace. The tension he’d carried since entering the restaurant earlier that evening seemed to melt away through our body contact.

Maddox’s face nuzzled my neck from behind. “I love you.”

“Hmmm.” I would never tire of hearing those words from his mouth. “I love you too.”

Peeling his arms away from my waist, I walked across the room to put space between us while I dug through my suitcase.

“Want to talk about why you were a grump all night?”

“Not particularly.” His tone changed from playful and sexy to annoyed.

I sighed. “You want to talk about a future together, but we both know that requires battling the demons of our pasts. I’m not blind, Maddox. Your demon was sitting across the table from me at dinner.”

He blew out a heavy breath, raking a hand down his face. “Lewis and I have a complicated relationship.”

“You don’t say.”

I slid my dress over my head, leaving myself only in my underwear and tights. Maddox’s hungry gaze roved over my form, and he took a step forward, reaching for me, most likely in hopes of distracting me from this topic of conversation.

Navy silk slid through my fingertips as I pulled pajamas from my suitcase, holding them in front of my body like a shield.

A groan split the air as Maddox’s head tilted toward the ceiling. “Not the big pajamas. Why do you even pack those?”

While he was distracted, I rolled my tights down and shed my bra and panties before letting the cool silk caress my skin. He was still standing in the middle of the room, so I moved close enough to wrap my arms around his waist.

With my face pressed against his chest, I said, “The last time I wore these when we were in a hotel room together, we had a really productive talk.”

His chest expanded with a deep breath, and he kissed the top of my head. “Yeah.”

Pulling away, I climbed onto the bed, sitting up against the headboard. I patted the spot beside me in invitation.

Not bothering to undress, he simply removed his shoes before joining me. Instead of mirroring my position, he dropped his head into my lap. I couldn’t help but smile at the intimate position, even as he stared up at me with those beautiful green eyes full of sadness.

When I began to stroke fingers through his hair, his lips parted on an exhale, and his eyelids lowered.

The silence stretched between us for so long that I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. I could imagine the inner turmoil he suffered tonight had been emotionally taxing.

“Lewis was my dad’s business partner,” Maddox finally spoke.

“Was?” I prompted.

A scoff flew past his lips, and his eyes opened. “Hard to keep working together when you find out the man you are supposed to trust is fucking your wife behind your back.”

I gasped, empathy gripping my heart for Maddox’s dad.

Before I could ask, he explained, “My dad, Trent, is a good guy, so Lewis used his trusting nature to screw him over. In more ways than one. Not only was he having an affair with my mom, but he was sending my dad all over the country on fools’ errands while Lewis worked to cut him out of a company he’d started.”

“I’m assuming at some point he found out?”

“Yeah. Came home early for one of my hockey tournaments and caught Lewis banging my mom on his desk. Then everything else came out. Because he was such a good guy, Dad took it on the chin. Letting his wife and company go without putting up a fight. He started all over. Started a new company but never trusted a woman enough to remarry.”

I twisted my lips. “But your mom and Lewis . . . ”

“I love my mother, I do. But there’s some resentment that she always finds a way to put herself first. The only reason she didn’t marry Lewis until I was out of the house was because I told her I would move into Dad’s place before I lived in the same house as that man. But the minute I was gone, they tied the knot. I can barely stand to look at him after he destroyed my family. I would never have agreed to dinner tonight if I’d known he would be there. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

“Will I ever get to meet your dad?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Yeah. Hopefully this summer, if I can convince you to come back out here with me. He still travels a ton, even though he should be gearing up for retirement and handing the reins to my cousin.”

“He must love what he does.”

“I think he’s lonely,” Maddox said sadly. “I got a taste of that after the injury.”

“Oh yeah?” My ears perked up. I’d read about his ACL tear, but he didn’t bring it up much. I could imagine it was painful to dwell on the reason his career suddenly ended.

Maddox swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing along his throat. “Yeah. I went from being constantly surrounded by people to being alone in my house. For months, the only places I went were to doctor’s appointments and physical therapy. I spent too much time inside my head with no one to talk to. I hated it.”

My heart ached for him. As with most professional players, hockey became his identity. That’s why so many of them chose to stay close to the game in retirement. They didn’t know anything else.

I decided to shift topics, not wanting to cause him further pain. “Is what your mom said true? That you’ve never brought a girl to meet her before?”

His head bobbed in my lap on a nod. “When I was playing, that was my focus. There were guys on the team who were married and had kids, and while they were great players, they split focus. Hockey became a job, and family became their priority. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but I wanted to compete—to win—so badly that I wasn’t willing to let anything stand in my way.” Maddox paused before continuing, “But when I had all that time to think, I realized that maybe I’d held myself back because of what happened to my dad. I was worried that a woman would only want me because of my fame and fortune and that if my career took a dip, they’d find someone better. I know it’s stupid—”

“It’s not stupid,” I cut him off.

Maddox sat up, cupping my face. “But you know what I realized? I was holding myself back from experiencing life to the fullest with someone by my side who made me better. But I can’t regret it because if I had taken that leap earlier, I wouldn’t have you.”

Breathless at his admission, I leaned in for a kiss. It was soft and tender and full of love.

We had both walked through fire to reach this moment, but those trials only made us appreciate what we’d found that much more.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 31

Maddox

The thing I missed most about my playing days was leaving work behind at the rink. The ability to come home, kick back, and relax for the night once training was done.

Now that I was a head coach, that wasn’t an option. Most nights were spent poring over film, analyzing line choices, and strategizing ways to improve our team. It was exhausting and never-ending.

Since the Speed lost their matchup tonight against the Salt Lake City Snow, I was trying to pinpoint the factors that had caused it. We were a better team on paper, but our execution was lacking. Our guys looked slow, made sloppy passes, and took far too many penalties.

My eyes were sore from hours spent on my laptop, and the figures on the screen began to blur the longer I stared at them.

We were at Bristol’s place, which meant my office was her couch while she finished her article in the bedroom. The ranch-style home had a second bedroom, but she hadn’t gotten around to setting it up for anything more than extra storage.

The sound of a door unlatching had my head lifting to a view of Bristol emerging from her bedroom in a pink silk camisole and shorts set. She must’ve changed after closing herself inside after work, and my fingers itched to slide the fabric from her soft skin to expose the matching pink parts of her body it hid.

But it was Bristol who groaned when our eyes locked. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“What?” My brows drew down, not understanding what she was talking about.

“The glasses.”

I removed the black-rimmed spectacles. “You like these?”

A breathy moan floated past her lips. “You’re giving off total daddy vibes.”

Huffing out a laugh, I countered, “That would’ve been a lot hotter if I hadn’t heard you call your own father daddy.”

Bristol stepped closer, and I discarded my laptop on the coffee table. She practically purred as she situated herself on my lap. “Maybe I’m finally seeing the appeal of older men.”

“Men?” I reared back. “I’m sorry, young lady, but there better be only one older man you’re interested in.”

Her brilliant blue eyes sparkled. “Jealous?”

“Very,” I growled, nipping at her neck.

“I like that,” she breathed out, tilting her head to the side, giving me greater access.

“You’re mine, Bristol. Don’t you ever forget it.” My lips brushed against her soft skin as I spoke.

“Are you done working yet?”

“I am now.” I pulled her hips down over my lap so she could feel how hard I was for her.

She clutched the back of my head as she shamelessly ground down on me, moaning as the hard ridge of my cock rubbed against her core. I stood, keeping her in my arms as I crossed the house to her bedroom and deposited her on the bed.

Bristol licked her lips as I reached up to undo my tie before tossing it aside. Her gaze landed on the discarded silk as I removed my shirt and pants. Left only in my boxer briefs, I crawled to where she lay, tangling my hands in her hair and capturing her lips in a heated kiss. She sighed, opening to allow my tongue inside to battle with hers.

When she pressed against my chest, I rolled to my back, allowing her to situate herself atop me. The mental image of her riding me, her tits bouncing as her head dropped back in pleasure, had me thrusting my hips, desperate to feel her pussy molding around my cock.

“I need to be inside you, baby. Right fucking now.”

Extending an arm, she reached over to the bedside table. Excitement flared inside me at the thought of her bringing out one of her toys, but it was quickly replaced with confusion when she held up my tie.

“I want to try something.” Bristol chewed her lip as she gauged my reaction to her proposition.

Fuck me. If she wanted me to tie her up, I was all in.

“Hell yes.” I reached for the fabric, which she quickly pulled over her head.

A wicked gleam entered her eyes. “Will you let me tie you up?”

“Me?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard her correctly.

Balling up the silk so I couldn’t snatch it away, she pressed her lips against the skin of my chest, trailing a path of kisses until she reached the waistband of my underwear, licking along that line, and I groaned.

“I want to drive you as insane as you drive me. Will you let me?” She peeked up at me, and when I caught sight of her hopeful expression, I knew I was a goner.

Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Okay.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened. She wasn’t the only one surprised I was willing to relinquish control. But I needed her to know she was always safe with me. That I would give her anything she wanted or needed.

Instead of using words, I lifted my hands toward her slatted headboard, offering myself up to be restrained. I was rewarded with the sexiest smile curving on her lips as she crawled up my body to tie my hands together before affixing them to the bed frame.

Her tits were right in my face, and I couldn’t help craning my neck to nip at them through the thin silk.

“Maddox!” she screeched, jumping back.

“What?” I teased. “You’re taking away my hands. You gonna gag me too?”

One of her eyebrows arched as she considered it. “Don’t tempt me.”

Smug, I taunted, “You love my mouth too much. You love it when I talk dirty to you. You love it when I bury my tongue in your delicious pussy.”

Bristol’s body trembled above me, and her fingers faltered as she tried to tie the knots to secure me. Yeah, I still had a few tools at my disposal without the use of my hands, and I fully intended to use them.

Her fingers grazed my wrists. “Too tight?”

I tugged gently, but the tie held firm. “All good.”

Lifting off my body, she moved to the side of the bed before standing. I had a front-row view of her shedding her skimpy pajamas, baring her flawless body to my gaze. My fists clenched, involuntarily tugging against my restraints. I wanted to run my hands over every perfect inch before taking the same path with my lips.

“You’re beautiful, Bristol,” I whispered reverently.

The tiniest hint of pink graced her cheeks, and her eyes dropped to the floor.

Needing to hammer the point home, I added, “I will thank God every day for bringing you into my life, that I’m the one you choose to be with.”

Those baby blues snapped up, shining with a love so strong it hit me square in the chest.

“Come on,” I prompted. “Have your wicked way with me.”

Emboldened, she positioned herself between my open thighs. Her fingers slid beneath the fabric of my boxer briefs, and she tugged them down my legs, allowing my cock to bob free. I groaned, needing something—anything—to ease the ache.

Bristol’s mouth hovered right over the head, her tongue darting out to tease the underside. But instead of taking me deeper, she shifted, rising on her knees until she straddled my hips. Placing both hands on my chest, she rocked over my length, coating me with her arousal.

The headboard rattled as I struggled with the overwhelming need to grab her hips and slam her down.

Satisfaction flickered over her features as she eyed my bound hands. “Need something, baby?”

“You know what I need,” I groaned.

“Hmm. Not sure that I do.” Bristol rocked her hips over me again, drenching my cock.

“You have two options. You either ride my cock, or you can ride my face. Dealer’s choice.” Fuck, my dick was weeping at the idea of either option.

Rising above me, Bristol fisted my shaft, centering herself before sinking down slowly. I gritted my teeth, trying to keep from coming as her heat enveloped me, the fit so tight it stole my breath away.

There was a reason I always went down on her first. Not only did I fucking love it, but being bare inside her threatened my control every damn time.

Bristol moaned once she was fully seated, circling her hips. Her eyes fluttered shut, and both hands cupped her breasts, tweaking the nipples. Her pussy gripped me impossibly tighter with the action, and I let out a strangled groan.

She rocked over me, keeping the pace slow and steady, torturing me. My balls tightened, and that was when I realized I wasn’t above begging.

“Baby, I need you on my face. Right now. I need to taste you.”

Hooded, lust-filled eyes met mine, and she smirked. “Who’s in charge here?”

Fuck me. It was hot as hell that she owned the power she held over me.

“Bristol,” I rasped when she rose up a few inches before sinking down again. “Please.” My voice was strained in my desperation to hold off on succumbing to the pleasure of her hot pussy pulsing around me. I wanted nothing more, but I needed to get her off first.

Her head dropped back, and she slid a hand between her thighs, rubbing her clit. Bristol panted as she rode me, her skin flushing beautifully as she drew closer to climax.

Jaw clenched, my words were clipped. “Pussy. On. My. Face. Now.”

The response I got was a breathy moan floating through the heated air of the room. But then she peered down at me with a smirk and a tilt of her head to where I lay bound. “Not like you can make me.”

Oh, she was going to pay for that when I regained the use of my hands.

My shoulders screamed with the effort of trying to break free, but something in my mind finally clicked. Bending my knees, I pressed my heels into the mattress and bucked my hips. Bristol’s body slid right off my cock, her chest landing on mine, knocking the breath from my lungs with a grunt.

“You’d make a terrible rodeo cowgirl,” I teased, my voice rough. “A bronco would throw you right off.”

“Oh, so you’re a bronco now?” One of her eyebrows raised.

I winked. “Well, I am hung like one.”

She scoffed playfully, rolling her eyes. “Humble about it too.”

“Baby, you’ve had me between your thighs. You’re really going to argue on this point?”

“Smug bastard,” she muttered.

That was certainly true, but there was still unfinished business to attend to. “Now, why don’t you be a good girl and climb onto my face.”

Blue eyes narrowed in my direction, and I knew obedience was the furthest thing from her mind.

“Why the obsession with my pussy, Maddox?” Bristol slid down my body, her fingers skimming along the muscles of my chest. When she knelt between my thighs, a mischievous grin lit up her face. “Maybe I’ll just have to have a taste and find out for myself.”

Before I could process her words, she swallowed my dick down, sucking all traces of her flavor from my skin.

“Jesus Christ,” I groaned, my hips thrusting into her hot mouth, needing more.

The woman licked me like a goddamn lollipop before smacking her lips and meeting my eye. “Hmm. Not bad.”

My head dropped back, and I begged, “Let me drink straight from the source. I’m dying to bury my face between your thighs.”

Bristol took me deep one last time before declaring, “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Relief flooded me as she knelt over my face, lowering until her pussy hovered a breath away. Even stretching my neck, my tongue could barely make contact, and I grunted in frustration.

“Fucking sit!” My patience with her teasing and torturing me while tied up finally snapped.

“So bossy,” she taunted from above, even as she settled her weight atop my face.

I was surrounded by her, buried deep, and I couldn’t imagine heaven being any better than this. Spearing my tongue inside her, I was rewarded with a rush of arousal, which I drank down greedily. If I knew the world was ending, this was what I would want to spend my last hours doing. There was absolutely no question in my mind.

She began to rock above me, chasing her pleasure. Shifting so I could flick her clit, my words were muffled as I warned, “You’re going to come on my face, and then you’re going to untie me. Got it?”

“Fuck yes. Just make me come. I’m right there,” Bristol forced out through breathy pants.

Over and over, I flicked that tight little bud as Bristol’s hips bucked faster and faster until she tensed above me, screaming in ecstasy and jumping off my face when the sensations became overwhelming.

She flopped to my side, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to come down from the intense high of her orgasm.

I gave her a minute to recover before demanding, “Untie me. Now.”

Bristol turned onto her side and the cheeky grin on her face had me doubting whether she would hold up her end of the bargain.

But then her hands reached up to undo the knots holding me hostage. “Admit it, you had fun.”

“Show me the sick bastard who thinks being tortured is fun,” I grumbled.

“Don’t make me regret letting you free before you came,” she shot back.

“You’re gonna regret it either way, love.” I felt the last knot slide free and pounced on her.

Bristol squealed in surprise, but a sexy smile tipped up her lips. “You gonna punish me, Coach Sterling?”

I growled at the way she addressed me professionally. As much as I loved her screaming my given name, when she played the smokeshow reporter, it drove me fucking insane.

Instead of answering, I took her lips in a punishing kiss, my teeth biting her lip hard enough to draw blood before my tongue swept inside, staking my claim. Shifting my body weight to the side, I was able to fit a hand between us, roughly shoving my fingers into her tight pussy even as she attempted to squirm away.

Ripping my lips away, I warned, “Just remember you started this little game.”

Her neck arched, head thrown back as I fucked her hard with my hand. This wasn’t enough. I needed more.

“Where are your toys?” I gritted out, obsessed with watching my fingers disappear inside her.

“Top drawer.” The words were said on a pant.

Reluctantly, I released my hold on her, reaching for the nightstand. There was a particular item I recalled her purchasing at the lingerie store that I was most interested in. Thankfully, the sapphire-colored gem stood out amongst the sea of silicone inside the drawer.

Plucking the metal plug from its resting place, I made sure to snag a bottle of lube.

Holding up my choice, I asked, “Do you use this when you’re alone?”

Bristol’s face was already flushed from her earlier climax, and it turned an even deeper shade of scarlet. But she didn’t shy away, answering, “Yes.”

Good. That meant she didn’t just buy it in front of me for the shock factor; she actually enjoyed backdoor play.

“Ass up,” I commanded, and Bristol wasted no time in flipping onto her belly and raising onto her knees.

Settling behind her, I covered the plug with lube and teased the tip against her tight little asshole. She hissed at the contact but didn’t try to move away, instead pressing her ass up even further in invitation.

She opened up beautifully for me, and when the plug was firmly in place, I pressed against the base, relishing her deep groan.

“You’re fucking incredible,” I said reverently.

Bristol’s forehead dropped to the bedding beneath her, and she shifted so she could place a hand between her thighs. I slapped it away. “Oh, no. You’re at my mercy now, sweetheart.”

She whimpered as her hips shifted, needing more. Lucky for her, I was more than ready to fuck her into oblivion. My cock was throbbing after how she’d teased it—first with her pussy and then with her mouth.

Gripping my shaft, I gave it a few firm strokes, my head dropping back on a groan. Lining myself up at her waiting entrance, I gripped her hips and thrust inside, pulling her back until my balls slapped against her clit.

“Holy shit,” she breathed out.

White-hot pleasure surged through my veins. Bristol’s pussy was even tighter with the addition of the plug in her ass. The timer was ticking; I wasn’t going to be able to hold off for much longer.

“Fuck, I wish you could see the way you stretch around me, baby.”

I pulled back, only to surge forward again, harder this time, and a sob was torn from Bristol’s throat. Each thrust was harder than the last as she screamed beneath me, her pussy beginning to spasm around my cock.

My balls tightened in warning, and I grunted, “I need you to come, Bristol. Right fucking now.”

I slammed into her violently, and she shattered as she shouted a stream of nonsensical words until her voice grew hoarse, and that’s when I finally let go. A roar ripped up my throat as her walls squeezed around me, and I came so hard my vision blurred. Holding her ass tight against my pelvis, I emptied inside her.

When I released my grip, her knees gave out, allowing her to fully collapse onto the bed. Using the back of my hand, I swiped away the sweat dripping into my eyes and dropped to her side.

Bristol’s face was hidden by her hair, so I brushed the tangled red locks away to see her. Those blue eyes were dazed and glassy, like she couldn’t see me when staring directly at me. Choppy breaths flew past her parted lips. Her porcelain skin was perfectly pink.

My thumb stroked her cheek as I whispered, “I love you.”

She gave me a contented hum, swallowing before she said, “Maybe I should tie you up more often.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Once was enough for me to learn I hate being out of control.”

A smirk tugged at her lips. “So much fun.” Her eyes slid closed, and her breathing leveled out, indicating she’d passed out.

Staring at the woman I loved, I was mesmerized. It was as if God had handcrafted her to be my perfect match. I’d never believed in soulmates, but having Bristol blow into my life might be enough to convince me to change my stance.

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Chapter 32

Maddox

“Move your feet, Clifford!” I screamed at my second-line center.

He either didn’t hear me or had run out of steam because he was unable to catch up with Brent York of the Alberta Moose on a breakaway after one of the defensemen carried the puck into our offensive zone and the other pinched below the blue line to try and beat the opponent going for the pass along the boards. The puck was chipped out of the zone behind him, and York was streaking toward Goose. A quick shift to his left had Goose biting on the forehand shot, so it was easy for York to reverse to the right and slide it in the back door.

“When Wyatt activates, you need to hang back,” I told Clifford when he returned to the bench. “You’ve been playing long enough to know that.”

“Yes, Coach.” He hung his head, realizing the goal against was partially his fault.

“And you!” I yelled at Booker. “Don’t fucking pinch when you don’t have any support!”

Saint Booker merely rolled his eyes. He thought he knew everything and was impossible to coach. He had a hell of a slapshot and was one of the few enforcers left in the game who could lay a punishing hit. Those were the only reasons I tolerated him because, outside of that, he was a poor sport and not the most respectable guy off the ice either.

“Don’t fucking roll your eyes at me, or you’ll see yourself benched!” I wasn’t fucking around anymore. We were in a three-goal hole with five minutes to play in the game and had lost the previous four straight.

That had Booker’s head snapping up quickly, but before he could respond, I held up my hand. “I don’t give a fuck how much you make. You play smart, or you don’t play.”

His murderous glare wouldn’t work on me. I was done taking his shit.

The buzzer sounded on our fifth straight loss, and I stormed off the bench. I loved the game, but on days like today, I hated my job and the pressure bearing down on me to return this team to its former glory.

“Hey! Smith, get over here!” I called to the nearest ref after the buzzer had sounded on a goal for the Boston Barracudas.

“What can I do for you, Coach?” Veteran referee Tim Smith came to a hard stop before the bench.

“I want to challenge that goal for the play being offside.”

“Sure thing.” He nodded and skated to center ice, pressing the button on his microphone. Over the loudspeakers, his words echoed, “Indianapolis is challenging the call to determine if there was an offside prior to the goal.”

The home crowd in Boston booed at the announcement as two refs went to the scorekeeper’s box to don headphones with a direct line to the control room in Toronto as they viewed the play on tablets.

We also had tablets on the bench, and I watched the zone entry on repeat. The first man to cross the blue line had a good three inches of white between his skate blade and the blue line before the puck crossed the same barrier. This should be a no-brainer call that would have the Boston goal erased from the board.

Smith removed his headphones and returned to center ice, announcing to the arena, “After video review, it was determined that the play was onside. Therefore, we have a good goal.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I screamed as my players uttered a variety of curse words.

It was a popular joke around hockey rinks that refs were blind with missed or bad calls, but this one was clear as day. And it was a double hit because not only did the goal for Boston stand, but now we would be penalized for an unsuccessful challenge. The Barracudas would go on the power play, putting us at an additional disadvantage.

My blood was boiling as I sent out my top penalty-killing unit. Less than thirty seconds in, they gave up a goal. In the end, that bad call cost had us two.

Seven straight losses.

Tied up with the Chicago Crush on home ice, Asher was upended by the stick of Jesse Hunt of the Crush. There were only two minutes left in the third period, so going on the power play would take us to overtime if we didn’t score. We needed points desperately after losing seven straight and sliding in the standings. Even the one point we would gain from an overtime loss would be welcome at this point.

Play wouldn’t stop until Chicago took possession of the puck, so I screamed at Goose to rush to the bench so I could throw on an additional skater until the whistle blew. The chance of the Crush scoring on an empty net was zero because the play would stop as soon as they touched the puck. This gave us an extra-man advantage for even longer than the two-minute penalty that would be assessed, and it would carry over into overtime— where we would play four-on-three instead of the regular three-on-three—if we didn’t score in regulation.

Wyatt took a hard slapshot from the point, but the puck hit the body of a Chicago defender, bouncing out of the zone. It slid all the way down behind our net, where Wyatt scooped it up as he hung back while I sent out my best forwards on a shift change. He was halfway out of the zone when he made a drop pass to an unsuspecting Eli. Caught completely off guard when the puck slid his way, Eli didn’t get his stick in the proper position in time, and it continued past him and into the wide-open net that Goose had vacated only moments earlier.

It was like I was watching the disaster happen in slow motion. A total breakdown in communication that cost us the game.

While Chicago couldn’t score on our net until the penalty was officially called, we sure as hell could.

An own goal felt like the dagger on an imploding season, and I hung my head in shame that I was the one orchestrating this hot mess.

The sports world would be laughing at the embarrassing show we’d put on tonight.

Eight straight losses.

My mind wouldn’t shut off, no matter how hard I tried. Lying awake beside Bristol in bed, I kept recounting the game and what I could’ve done differently to change the outcome. The team’s success might count on the talent put out on the ice, but I was the one guiding them, telling them how to play. Our recent failures rested squarely on my shoulders. And if I didn’t get a handle on it soon, I could find myself out of a job.

I slid from beneath the covers, careful not to wake the sleeping woman curled against my side. Padding into the bathroom, I opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed a couple of sleeping pills left over from after my surgery. Even back then, I’d hated using them, but tonight, I was too desperate to make it all go away for a few hours.

While I waited for them to kick in, I slipped out of the bedroom and down the hall to my home office. Sinking into the leather desk chair, I turned on the monitors, their soft glow providing the only light in an otherwise dark room.

By morning, the film team would have compiled clips for me to review prior to practice, so all I had was the replay of our game on the sports streaming service I subscribed to.

Watching live from ice level, you were sure to miss things. I was busy coordinating shift changes, tracking puck placement, and the game moved so fast that sometimes, if you blinked, you missed things.

Reviewing the game from a bird’s eye view through a camera lens was different. I saw the missed assignments more clearly, the selfish play stuck out like a sore thumb, and the number of times our guys couldn’t clear the defensive zone was shockingly high. If we couldn’t clear—getting the puck across the blue line into the neutral zone—the odds of being scored on increased significantly with each failed attempt. It built momentum for the other team, and given enough chances, they were bound to put the puck in the back of the net eventually. Every goal against tonight—minus the own goal—came down to that point.

That would have to be my focus during tomorrow’s drills.

“What are you doing still awake?” Bristol’s groggy voice floated from the doorway.

I pressed my fingers into my eye sockets, rubbing against the mounting pressure behind them. “Can’t stop thinking about the game.”

She sighed but didn’t argue that I should let it go. She’d been around the game long enough to know that our emotions were on a rollercoaster and the ups and downs were closely tied to the performance on the ice.

Her bare feet were silent as she crossed the room to stand behind me. Thumbs dug into the tight muscles of my shoulders, and I groaned. When warm lips pressed against my neck, my cock twitched, but my eyelids were already growing heavy, the sleeping pills finally beginning to take effect.

“Not tonight,” I murmured.

Her fingers shifted upward to tangle in my hair, working their magic on my scalp.

“You know, I was thinking about what Jack said.”

“Jack?” I said the name slowly, trying to place it as my mind grew fuzzier.

“Yeah, your little buddy from Dream Day?”

“Oh yeah. What about him?”

Bristol hummed. “He made a good point about Logan Ford.”

I couldn’t recall the specifics of that conversation with sleep pulling at me. “And what was that?”

“That he’s your best all-around defenseman. I went through some of the stats, and Jack was spot on. If you look at Ford when paired with Banks or Booker, he elevates their games. Both have better plus-minuses and more points when paired with Ford than with each other. That, and Ford has one of the best plus-minuses in the entire league. You have a tool like that, and it might be worth moving him around to find the best placement. Might just be the spark you need.”

“Maybe.”

I wasn’t in the right mindset to debate my personnel choices on the ice. Banks and Booker had been paired together for years; they’d built a level of trust. Ford only stepped in to partner with one of them when the other was injured—or suspended, as was often the case with Booker.

“I’m tired, babe.” I gripped the edge of my desk to help me stand as my limbs grew heavier with each passing minute.

“Tomorrow’s a new day,” she offered, looping an arm around my waist as I trudged toward the bedroom.

I could only pray it was a better one than today.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 33

Bristol

The press watched the game from high above ice level, and in most arenas, that was even higher than the highest seats. I swear, sometimes the players looked as tiny as ants from this distance. The puck was a black speck, difficult to track. Thankfully, there were TV monitors inside the tight space that we could use to get a better view when necessary.

Tension was at an all-time high with the Speed on a ten-game losing streak. Interviews were given through gritted teeth by players and staff alike. No one wanted to discuss the skid in the standings, putting the team just outside of the playoff picture with two months left in the regular season. But that was our job, and we couldn’t not ask the questions or write the articles that focused on the current position of the team. Knowing we had an excuse didn’t make it any more palatable when, every game, we were forced to lance open the wound and make them bleed.

I felt terrible for them. They looked like a bunch of lost boys. Maddox was hardly sleeping, as evidenced by the dark circles under his eyes. And when I’d offered help, it didn’t seem like he wanted to take it.

Tonight, they’d gotten off to a better start against the Phoenix Pythons. The Speed went up by two goals in the first period, but lost that lead in the second, heading into the final intermission tied at two. With ten minutes remaining in the third period, the Speed scored, but within thirty seconds, the Pythons pulled even.

The clock was winding down, signaling that overtime was imminent with twenty seconds left to play in regulation. The puck was in the Python’s zone, and they were cycling it amongst their players. The way they were passing, it seemed like they were as content as us to head to overtime. But at the last second, they sent a shot careening toward Goose in net. He raised his glove hand but only caught a piece of the puck. It shot sky-high, landing behind him and across the goal line as the buzzer sounded.

The ref signaled a goal, but it was close. Too close. The Pythons celebrated, but the Speed players weren’t confident the game was over. Maddox’s refusal to leave the bench to head to the locker room was a sure sign that they wanted a second look at whether the puck had beaten the buzzer.

My eyes turned to the TV inside the press booth, where replays were already rolling. Close-ups of the goal line were shown with a clock beside them, the video playing with freeze-frame slowness, and my heart sank. The puck crossed with zero point one seconds remaining. It would count for the Pythons and would mean another heartbreaking loss for the Speed.

The refs went to review the play, but it didn’t take long before they announced to the crowd that it was a good goal, and the game was over.

The defeated expressions on the players visible on the big screen above center ice were one thing, but I flinched when I caught Maddox slamming a tablet to the ground, fragments of the shattered glass screen shooting up from his feet.

Yeah, this post-game interview was going to be fun.

I couldn’t help but notice the defensive pair on the ice during the game-winning goal for the Pythons. It was Banks and Booker, whom I’d suggested breaking up and instead, partnering one with Logan Ford. You couldn’t argue with stats, and Ford made them better and they gave up fewer goals.

It was all I could think about when Maddox stormed out of the locker room, looking like he was headed to the gallows as he approached the press pack eager to pepper him with questions about the last-second loss.

He grumbled canned responses to most of their questions, and when my turn came to ask one, the thought nagging at the back of my brain was begging to be set free.

His green eyes pleaded with me to be gentle, to let him off the hook, but pride demanded I put my personal feelings aside to do my job. I could only pray he saw the clear line between our professional relationship and our private one.

Taking a deep breath, I asked, “Do you think inexperience behind the bench plays a factor in the current skid? That perhaps you’re too close to the players, making it difficult to take a step back and view the team objectively?”

“Do you think your inexperience as a sports reporter is a factor in you asking bullshit questions about my team?“ Maddox shot back, his voice raised, venom dripping from every word.

I reared back like I’d been struck. The hot burn of hurt at his harsh tone settled deep within my chest as every one of my colleagues gasped in unison. They all turned to me, gauging my response, but I stood there stunned, embarrassed, and above all, pissed that he would dare to lash out at me when I was only trying to do my job. I wasn’t an ordinary reporter; I was his girlfriend, and everyone there knew it, making this situation even worse. I’d never asked for special favors or used inside information to get an edge on my peers, so I couldn’t go soft on him, even in his darkest hour. He had to know that.

Apparently, I’d misjudged him.

We stared each other down for what seemed like hours before his gaze dropped, and he muttered, “The players are available to the press in the locker room,” before stalking off.

I swallowed, watching him walk away as the press pack hustled into the locker room to poke at the players’ fresh wounds as I had done to their coach. Alyssa grazed my arm, a question in her eyes, but I told her I was okay and to go ahead without me. She nodded in understanding and slipped through the double doors.

The minute she was out of sight, I ran as fast as my feet would carry me, propelled by anger as I chased down the man I loved to give him a piece of my mind.

Turning the corner to the bank of elevators designated for the executive floor access, I found him, a hand pressed against the wall, head hanging down. His posture screamed defeat, but I didn’t give a shit. I was rearing for a fight.

“Hey!” My sharp tone caused his back to go ramrod straight and his head to whip up. “I get losing is tough and you’re frustrated about it, but what happened back there is not okay. You don’t get to take it out on me!”

Damn, girl, where was this backbone when you were with Nix?

Nix made me weak; Maddox makes me stronger. So that’s the version of me he gets. Like it or not.

“You embarrassed me back there.” The heat of that embarrassment finally caught up with me, and my face flamed, my breath coming in angry pants.

Maddox shoved off the wall, nostrils flaring as he closed the gap between us until his chest was pressed against mine.

Unlike my raised voice, his was low, bordering on deadly. “And you think taking a dig at my job performance wasn’t embarrassing? You’ve made it crystal clear that you want there to be a separation between our work life and home life. But then you go and throw it in my face when I don’t take your advice about how to run my team.”

I threw my hands up. “I’m just doing my job!”

“By tearing down mine!” he shouted back.

Shaking my head, I stepped back, turned away, and mumbled under my breath, “This is why I didn’t want to get involved. Even if you’re not a player anymore, you’re too close to the game.”

“Fine,” Maddox scoffed. “Leave, then. Write me off as a washed-up player, like everyone else.”

I spun around so fast that I almost stumbled. “Are you fucking serious right now? A losing streak where you have to answer tough questions, and you’re ready to throw away what we have?” Anger and hurt swirled in my chest, and I said, “It’s just a game, Maddox.”

“It’s not just a fucking game!” he roared. “It’s my life!”

My eyes widened, and for the first time, I realized he’d never made peace with his career ending. He couldn’t find a way to separate himself from the game; it had been his identity for so long that he didn’t know how to exist without it. That was a problem because it was always going to end someday—maybe just not as abruptly as his had—and he needed to find a way to cope with the fact that there was a life beyond hockey. He needed to realize he held more value as a person outside of the sport that had become such a huge part of his life.

He’d masked it so well by vowing that he wanted to create a future with me. But I could see now that he was using me to fill the gaping hole that hockey had left behind. I deserved more than that; I deserved to come first, and ironically, he was the one who had taught me that.

Sadly, I replied, “Glad to know where your priorities lie.”

Maddox’s body sagged, visibly deflating as the fight seeped out of him. Running a hand over his jaw, he said, “Bristol, come on. I didn’t mean it like that.”

I shrugged. “I think you did.”

Turning on my heel, I began to walk away when a hand on my elbow stopped me. “Bristol, please.”

Peeking back at him was a mistake. The devastation written on his face threatened to shatter my heart, but I’d come to Indy to put myself first, and that’s what I had to do now.

Inhaling deeply, I said, “I think you should see a grief counselor.”

Maddox’s dark eyebrows drew down. “Why? Nobody died.”

He still didn’t get it, so I decided to lay it out for him. “Your career did, and you clearly haven’t come to terms with that loss yet. Until you do, I don’t know how we can move forward. You’re stuck in the past, Maddox. Come find me when you’re ready to look forward to the future.” He opened his mouth to argue that he was, but I spoke before he could. “And not with me as a consolation for what you’ve lost.”

Tugging my elbow from his grasp, he let me go, and I walked away, uncertain if we would make it past this hurdle.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 34

Maddox

What did I just do?

I’d let my temper get the best of me and potentially ruin the best thing to ever happen in my life. And for what? Because I couldn’t separate myself from the game?

I was an idiot, and Bristol had called me out on it.

But she wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t let go of my career. And it was holding me back. Keeping me from giving myself to her fully.

Every cell screamed at me to run after her, but I knew she’d push me away, and rightfully so. I couldn’t snap my fingers and erase the hold hockey had on me. I was a competitor and always would be. I craved the high of winning so badly that it cut me deeply when we lost. I saw the team’s failures as my own.

Watching her walk away was the first time I realized something mattered more. Hockey might’ve been my first love, but Bristol was my forever. I was sure of it. She would still be there when the game I loved became a distant memory.

I had to fix this. But I wasn’t quite sure how.

You embarrassed her in front of her colleagues, so it’s only fitting they hear your apology.

At the end of the day, Bristol had only been doing her job. Maybe if I hadn’t been so stubborn, thinking I knew this team better than anyone else, I might’ve listened when she told me that moving around Ford was the key shift to setting the ship to rights.

Adapt or die. That was the bottom line. The game was constantly changing and evolving, and if I didn’t adjust to change with it, the Speed were dead in the water. What worked in the past wasn’t guaranteed to continue working in the future, and Bristol had seen that with the Banks and Booker D pairing.

It was time to take a step back and recognize that nostalgia and the “good old days” were holding me hostage.

Stepping up to the podium, I brushed sweaty palms against my track pants. The room had descended into silence the moment I entered, with multiple glares of disdain directed my way. They all knew I’d been an ass last night, and I wasn’t sure what I was about to do would be enough to salvage any semblance of respect they might’ve held for me prior to my outburst.

The only person I was silently begging to look at me kept her eyes cast down, hands twisting in her lap. Alyssa reached over to give her a reassuring squeeze, and I was glad Bristol had made enough friends amongst her peers that they had her back over mine. Not that I thought anyone should have taken my side; I’d been firmly in the wrong.

Clearing my throat, I drew the attention of the room. “Let me start by saying I will not be taking questions today.” A murmur went through the crowd as that was highly irregular. “Instead, I have prepared a statement.”

I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket before unfolding it and smoothing the creases as I laid it across the podium. It was all for show; the words were burned into my memory, having stared at them for hours throughout the night.

“First, I would like to issue a public apology to Miss Cooper for my behavior after last night’s game.” A flash of copper caught the corner of my vision, and I noticed her eyes trained on me, a mixture of shock and sadness in their blue depths. I held her stare as I continued, “The transition from player to coach has been difficult. My retirement was forced upon me due to circumstance rather than by choice, and I’ve struggled to come to terms with that. My frustration over the loss and my inability to cope with the fact that I can no longer make a direct impact on the ice was misdirected at Miss Cooper. I was firmly in the wrong for lashing out at her, and I can only hope she will accept that I deeply regret my actions.”

Her eyes grew glassy, but she dipped her chin in acknowledgment.

“Next, I would like to announce that I will be taking a step back from coaching.”

There was a rumble of shocked voices throughout the room, and I knew they were itching to ask questions, but I’d already stated I wouldn’t be taking any.

“This is not a permanent departure as the Speed’s head coach, but instead, a temporary leave of absence while I take the time to properly sort out my place in the hockey world, as I failed to do so during my injury recovery before jumping straight into coaching. It’s something I need to do for myself and for my family.” That final word was aimed right at Bristol, so she’d know how important she still was to me. She was, without a doubt, my future, the woman I wanted to create a family with.

“Assistant Coach Ethan Byer will take over as interim head coach in my absence. The timeline for my return is unknown at this time. Thank you.”

There was a commotion behind me, everyone shouting out questions as I left the room, ignoring them.

I was halfway down the hall when the heels clicking sounded behind me. Pausing, I closed my eyes, waiting for her to catch up.

Bristol stepped past me, turning so we were face to face. Her nervousness was obvious by how she chewed on her lip instead of speaking. It twisted my gut knowing I’d pushed her away when all I wanted to do was wrap her in my arms and hold on for dear life. She was the only thing anchoring me when my life had spun out of control. And I’d gone and ruined it.

“Um.” She took a deep breath. “That was something.”

I lifted one shoulder. “It was a start. Not nearly enough.”

Her pink lips folded inward in thought. “Giving up coaching is a big deal.”

“You were right, Bristol. I need to give myself some space away from the game to sort out my life. To become the man who is worthy of you.”

She let out a heavy sigh. “I never said you weren’t worthy.”

“You might not have, but it’s true just the same. It wasn’t right for me to put you in that position. To expect you to fill the void in my life. You deserve to be my life. And I need to get my head right so that something like last night never happens again.”

“Okay . . . so what does that mean? For us?” Her voice wavered, and it pierced my heart to know that she was on the verge of crying.

Allowing myself the tiniest bit of comfort I didn’t deserve, I cupped her cheek, relief washing over me when she leaned into my touch instead of pulling away. “I hate that I hurt you, baby.” One hot tear leaked from the corner of her eye, searing my palm. “And I am so sorry.”

“I pushed too hard,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have kicked you while you were down.”

I shook my head. “No. You’re not to blame here. You don’t get to apologize for my mistakes.” Her lashes fanned her cheeks as her eyes slid closed, and she nestled into my touch.

Here comes the hard part.

“But I need to take some time for me.” My throat burned as I forced myself to say the words.

Blue eyes snapped open, welling with fresh tears as she begged, “No, please, Maddox. Don’t leave me.”

“It’s not goodbye,” I vowed. “Believe me, I couldn’t let you go if I tried.”

“Then why?” Bristol’s voice grew thick as her emotions took over.

Stroking my thumb over her cheek, I wiped away the moisture. “I’m doing this for us. So, I can be a better man for you.” Closing my eyes, I pressed my forehead to hers. “I just need a little time.”

A sob worked its way up from her chest, and my heart twisted painfully, making it hard to breathe.

“Didn’t we already learn this lesson? Let me help you. You don’t need to do this alone.”

She had a point, but unlike her past, mine was ever-present. I couldn’t run away from it. I needed to take a good, hard look in the mirror and decide who I was, and when I figured that out, I could only hope that she still wanted me.

“I love you, Bristol. And I swear, as soon as I figure this out, I’m running right back into your arms. That’s a promise.”

Tipping her chin up with my fingers, I dusted a soft kiss over her lips—praying it wasn’t the last time—before I stepped around her trembling body and walked away.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jared McCall asked from the doorway of my office as I packed my things, not sure when I would return.

I peeked at him from where I shoved a framed picture of Bristol and me at the holiday market in Hartford into a cardboard box. “It’s not about what I want anymore, Jared. It’s about what I need. Don’t pretend you didn’t see how I went off on her. I was way out of line.”

He cringed. “Yeah, I won’t sugarcoat it. If you’d gone off on Alyssa, I would’ve had to suspend your ass.”

Scoffing, I shot back, “Should’ve done it anyway. The fact that I’m seeing Bristol makes it ten times worse.”

“It’s not for me to insert myself in your domestic situation.”

I rolled my eyes. “So much for your ‘keep it professional at the rink’ spiel. What I did was the furthest thing from it. I took out my aggression on the woman I loved. There have to be repercussions for that. In that tunnel with her microphone on, she’s no different than any other reporter. I lashed out because I took her question too personally. Therefore, I need to step back and evaluate my mental state before I can continue being an asset to the team. End of story.”

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” Jared folded his arms over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Don’t know. Not sure it was the right thing to jump right into coaching. I should’ve taken some time off first. I thought it would help, staying close to the game, but maybe I was wrong. It might be too painful.”

Jared hummed. “I can’t tell you how to feel, Maddox. Your frustration is valid; no one enjoys losing, especially how we have been as of late. But for what it’s worth, I do think you’re a good coach. And if time away from the game is what you need, then take it. Your job will be waiting for you when you’re ready to return. You belong with the Speed.”

The Speed had been my family for so long, but it was time for me to grow up and realize that while they would always hold a special place in my life, my heart belonged to someone else.

Ding dong.

I shoved off the couch, where I was only half focused on the late-night game between Seattle and San Francisco. The Speed had played earlier and looked sharper, managing to win their second straight game in my absence. It had me wondering if perhaps I was the problem, as Bristol had suggested.

Brushing crumbs off my chest from the bag of chips I’d demolished while watching hockey, I strode to the door.

Turning the deadbolt and twisting the doorknob, I found Jenner and Braxton on the other side.

Not bothering to invite them in, I turned and walked back to the couch, throwing over my shoulder, “You’re a little late for the intervention. I hit rock bottom days ago, boys.”

My two best friends came inside, closing the door and taking a seat on the opposite couch.

Jenner leaned forward on his elbows. “We gave you a week. It’s time to pull yourself together.”

Had it only been a week? It felt more like a year. Time dragged without Bristol by my side.

My tired eyes shifted to Braxton, who leaned back in his seat, arms folded. He’d warned me to stay away from Bristol, but I wouldn’t listen. He didn’t want to see her get hurt again, and I’d been so arrogant, thinking I would never do that.

With too much time to think, I’d come to one conclusion. “She deserves better than me.” My voice was scratchy from disuse after days of only my thoughts for company.

Braxton shrugged. “You’re probably right. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love your stupid ass.”

Jenner chimed in. “You gotta figure your shit out faster because I don’t think my ears can handle any more of her singing sad love songs at Pipes.” He shuddered. “She’s really bad, man.”

I chuckled, the memory of her up on that stage so fresh in my mind. “Yeah, I know.”

Blowing out a breath, Jenner said, “Look, I’ve watched the woman I love walk away because I couldn’t bear the thought of her hurting a moment longer. If I had the chance to do it all over again? There’s no question that I would have done anything to make her stay. Pain is a part of life; you can’t protect her from that. It’s out of your control. If you let her go, there will always be a gnawing ache inside your soul, knowing you should have fought harder. Learn from my mistakes. Go get your girl.”

For the first time, I understood his pain. I felt for him when his marriage fell apart, but I didn’t truly understand what he was going through. I’d never loved someone, couldn’t comprehend the agony of losing the one person who made life worth living.

But now I did.

I just hoped it wasn’t too late.

Standing, I bolted for the door, grabbing my keys as I shoved my feet into my shoes. With my hand on the doorknob, I halted, turning around.

“Any idea where I can find her?” I asked Braxton.

“She’s been on my couch for days. That’s the first place I’d look.” He gave me a tiny nod of acceptance, and I didn’t waste any more time, rushing out the door and into my SUV.

The rest of my life started tonight.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 35

Bristol

“I’m going to start charging you for ice cream,” Dakota said as she handed me a pint and plopped down beside me on the couch.

“You can afford it,” I shot back. Even if she wasn’t practically married to a professional athlete, she was a best-selling author and made way more money than I did. Supplying me with a few gallons of ice cream wouldn’t break the bank.

She hummed. “What I can’t afford is seeing you so defeated. He’s coming back.”

I couldn’t stop the snort as I shoved a spoonful of mint chocolate chip into my mouth. Once I swallowed, I countered, “Then why hasn’t he called? It’s like I’m right back there with Nix, ears trained on the phone for when he’s ready.”

Dakota turned to face me, countering, “You know he’s nothing like Nix.”

Ignoring her, I muttered, “When am I going to stop doing this to myself? Emotionally unavailable men are apparently all I’m attracted to.” Sighing, I reclined on the couch. “Can we not talk about him for five minutes? Please? Distract me with wedding talk.”

“Okay.” Dakota perked up at the mention of her upcoming nuptials, less than six months away. She ticked the items checked off her list on her fingers. “We’ve got the date, the place, and Lucy’s handling my dress.”

My chest warmed at the thought of my best friend in a custom-made couture gown by one of the world’s most famous fashion designers. My bets were already on Braxton bawling like a baby when she walked down the aisle.

“Wedding party?” I asked.

“I’ve got most of it figured out.” She pursed her lips, tapping on her chin. “Still in desperate search of a maid of honor, though.”

Rolling my eyes, I chucked a pillow at her. “Jerk.”

“There’s a smile!” she exclaimed triumphantly when a corner of my lips turned up.

I quickly schooled my features. “Nothing to see here.”

She bumped shoulders with me. “I can’t wait to see you as red as a tomato when Jaxon escorts you back up the aisle as the best man.”

Shrugging, I replied, “He doesn’t quite hold the same appeal anymore.”

“Why? Because an even older hottie has caught your eye?”

“I hate you,” I groaned. But she wasn’t wrong. Apparently, older men were my kryptonite. “If I’m with Jaxon, who’s paired with Natalie?”

“Maddox.”

I pretended to check a non-existent watch on my wrist. “Yep. Exactly five minutes.”

Dakota laid her head on my shoulder. “Sorry, babe.”

I knew there was no escaping him, even if things didn’t work out between us. Eventually, he would come back as the Speed’s head coach, and at least for now, I intended to keep my position reporting on the team. Even without that working relationship, we would forever be tied together by our common friends.

I couldn’t run from Maddox, like I had from Nix. And I didn’t want to. Even if it hurt not to be with him, it would be exponentially more painful not to see his face every day—a fact I became acutely aware of during his leave of absence. He’d become a constant in my life, and the rink wasn’t the same without him.

There was a knock on the door—more of a banging, really—that had both our heads lifting and turning toward it. Braxton had gone out with the team post-win, so it was just the two of us girls here alone, and it was approaching midnight.

“Expecting someone?” I asked Dakota, my voice strained as panic seeped in when the heavy banging continued.

“Braxton should be home soon. Maybe he drank too much and had a car drop him off.”

She stood to check who was beating down the door, but I gripped her wrist, holding her back. “You can’t answer it!”

“It’s okay,” she reassured me. “I’ll check the doorbell camera on my phone.”

That did little to quell my fear as she silently padded toward her front door. I was left with two choices: watch my best friend get murdered or hide so I wasn’t the next target. I wasn’t proud to say that self-preservation won out and I chose the latter, ducking behind the recliner.

My muscles were coiled tight and shaking as I heard Dakota turn the deadbolt and open the door. I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing to hear her screams. But they never came.

“Well, I have good news and bad news,” her cheery voice called out.

I was paralyzed, unable to move from my crouching position, so I asked, “What’s the good news?” I knew most usually asked for the bad first, but I needed a boost.

“It’s not a serial killer come to murder us,” Dakota chirped.

Why the hell was she so happy? The bad news must not be all that bad.

“And the bad news?”

“It was for you.”

“Me? Who would come here this late at night for me?”

“Why don’t you stop hiding and find out?” she prompted.

I counted to three in my head, taking deep breaths, unsure of what awaited me when I stood. Gripping the soft leather of the recliner, I hauled my body upright. At the sight of the tall man beside Dakota, the breath seized in my lungs.

Maddox had come for me.

He looked about as ragged as I’d felt this past week. His dark hair was sticking up like he’d run his hands through it a few too many times. Dark circles were present under his eyes, and he hadn’t shaved, sporting a scraggly beard.

Even though my heart begged me to run to him, I held my ground.

Throwing both hands on my hips, I forced out, “Took you long enough.”

“Hold that thought.” His husky voice rolled over me like honey as he strode forward, pulling me into his arms.

Warm lips crashed over mine, and I gasped. Maddox took that opening, using his tongue to claim my mouth, reminding me of how well we fit together, how he was the only man I wanted to kiss for the rest of my days.

A whimper worked its way up my throat when his hands cradled my face, and he pulled back. “Tell me I’m not too late.” When all I could do was stare up at him in disbelief that he was really here and I wasn’t dreaming, he begged, “Please, Bristol.”

I swallowed, at a loss for words.

Thankfully, Maddox had enough for both of us.

Taking my hands in his, he stated. “We have no business being together. I’m too old for you and we’re going to keep butting heads at work, creating all kinds of drama. But you know what? I’m selfish when it comes to you, and I don’t care. I already lost everything that ever mattered to me in an instant, and then you waltzed into my life with your sexy smile and atrocious singing, and I felt something again. I was dead inside for so long, but you made me come alive. I don’t want to live without you, Bristol. Please tell me I’m not too late to make things right between us.”

“You still want me?” I hated that I sounded so needy, but the past week had planted a seed of doubt in my brain, and it had taken root.

“Of course I still want you,” Maddox breathed out, reaching a hand up to caress my cheek. “I love you. You are my heart. Even if you tell me to walk back out that door, that will never change. There’s no one else for me. Only you.”

Blinking furiously, I was unable to stop the first tear that slipped down my cheeks.

A pained expression crossed Maddox’s devastatingly beautiful face. “Baby, please don’t cry. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

Sniffling, I pulled his head down so his forehead was pressed to mine. “I love you, Maddox. Take me home.”

His arms pulled me tight, and I clung to him, my face pressed to his chest, comforted by the sound of his steady heartbeat—a heart I knew beat only for me.

“Now that was book-worthy. Bravo, Maddox.” Dakota’s voice cut through our little bubble of love.

Turning my head to the other side, I saw that Braxton had made it home, his arms looped around Dakota’s waist from behind as they witnessed our reconnection.

Maddox’s chest vibrated as he chuckled, his hands running up and down my back. “Not sure which one of you I’m expected to thank for meddling in our lives.”

Braxton squeezed Dakota, pressing a kiss against her temple. “That would be my brilliant matchmaker wife. She’s got an eye for these things.”

“I’m not your wife yet,” she teased.

He hummed. “But it sounds so fucking good, Firefly.”

Dakota playfully rolled her eyes. “He might want to give me all the credit, but Braxton got the two of you to Pipes, even if it wasn’t his intention for you to end up together. I’d say it worked out pretty well in the end.”

Snuggled against the man I loved, I was never more thankful for the friends who were there for me in my darkest hour, knowing they would always have my back.

“Thank you both,” I whispered.

Smiling softly, Dakota made a shooing gesture with her hands. “Go on, then. Get out of here. Live your happily-ever-after. I think you’ve earned it.”

Lord knows I’d walked through fire to get to this moment, but if given the choice, I would have willingly done it all over again. Heartbreak was a part of life, and until you experienced it firsthand, you couldn’t appreciate the beauty of true love when it stared you in the face.

So, as much as I hated him, I had to thank Nix for shoving me aside. Because without that push to branch out on my own and find myself, I would never have discovered Maddox. I wouldn’t know what it felt like to be at the center of his universe, where he worshiped and cared for me like I was the most precious thing ever to walk this earth.

And this was only the start. The best was yet to come.

OceanofPDF.com

Epilogue

Bristol

Five months later

“You look like a princess,” I gushed at Dakota. Dressed all in white, she was finally ready to marry the man she loved.

She peeked over her shoulder from where she’d been viewing her reflection in the floor-length mirror inside the in-law suite of Jaxon and Natalie’s Minnesota lake house. “Lucy knows a thing or two about that.” Dakota winked at the petite raven-haired woman in question who had designed her gown.

Lucy wore the same strapless lavender bridesmaid dress as the rest of us gathered in preparation of Dakota and Braxton’s wedding. “Everyone should feel like a princess on their wedding day.”

“Unless you’re like me and walking bow-legged down the aisle because you got railed the night before like the good little slut you are,” Hannah chimed in, slinging back her third mimosa. Or was it her fourth? It was hard to tell because they were strong as hell, and my vision was beginning to blur after only two.

Natalie sighed. “We’re trying to have a nice moment here, Hannah.”

Hannah pointed her empty glass at Natalie. “Dakota’s not a blushing virginal bride. We’ve all read that book. Sex in the sin bin? Fuck.” She fanned herself. “I thought the things Cal and I did were hot. She’s got us beat.”

“No one is ever gonna forget about that book, are they?” Dakota groaned.

I stepped up beside her to apply another coat of lipstick in the mirror. “Don’t put your personal life in print. Rookie mistake.”

“I didn’t have much of a personal life before Braxton,” she grumbled.

“You skipped kissing all the frogs. I think it worked out pretty well in the end.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips at the thought of her groom. “Yeah.”

I looped an arm around her waist. “I’m so happy for you.”

Smirking, she said, “You’re next.”

Here we go again.

Rolling my eyes, I was used to her constant suggestions that Maddox and I make our relationship more permanent.

I was beginning to sound like a broken record with how often I was forced to repeat the following words. “I’m happy with what we have.” And I meant it. We were together and committed, and that’s all I needed.

Dakota pursed her lips. “So . . . you’re saying that if he asked, you’d say no.”

My gaze dropped to the floor as I felt my cheeks heat. “No, I didn’t say that.”

Of course, if Maddox popped the question, I’d say yes. He was it for me, but I wasn’t in any rush. And who was to say a ring on my finger and a piece of paper were necessary for a lifetime of happiness? Benji and Liv Mason weren’t formally married but were completely devoted to each other and their two boys. Love didn’t always have to fit into defined boxes set by society.

There was a knock at the door, and all seven of our heads swiveled toward it. Almost as if our conversation had conjured his presence, Maddox’s head peeked around the cracked open door.

It had been nearly a whole year since we’d met, but I still got butterflies every time I saw him. I hoped that feeling never went away.

“Hey.” His eyes locked on mine, the fire in them heating my blood.

“No boys allowed!” Hannah called out. She paused, considering her statement. “You know what? On second thought, I need a little pre-wedding snack.” She slid from her perch on the bed in the center of the room. Halfway to the door, she smirked, addressing Amy. “You might as well come with me, Ames. I’m sure Liam is thirsty.” Hannah directed a pointed look at the redhead’s chest.

Amy’s face turned pink as the rest of the women laughed. I was not in on that joke and wasn’t sure I wanted to be.

Hannah slipped out around Maddox, standing confused in the doorway.

He cleared his throat. “Um, the groom sent me with a gift for his bride.” Maddox held up a silver-wrapped package. It looked suspiciously like a book.

Natalie went into mom mode, ushering everyone toward the door. “All right. Everyone out. Let’s give Dakota a minute.”

I was the last one to leave, turning back toward my best friend. “I’ll be right outside.”

Dakota took the package from Maddox, thanking him as we closed the door behind us.

Maddox pressed me against the wall, his voice rough beside my ear. “You look stunning.”

I gently pushed my hands against his chest, and he gave me enough space to smooth my hands over the lapels of his tuxedo. “You clean up pretty nicely yourself, Coach.”

A growl rumbled from his chest. “Don’t tease me, love. It’s bad enough I have to warn Slate that while my girl is on his arm, I’ll have his wife on mine.”

“Hmm, guess it’s a good thing that crush was only one-sided.” I couldn’t help taunting him; I enjoyed watching him get worked up too much.

Green eyes widened. “What crush? Are you telling me you had a crush on Jaxon?”

I shrugged, my lips tugging up at the corners. “Maybe.”

Maddox’s hips surged forward, his erection hard against my belly. It was his subtle way of reminding me who I belonged to. And he wouldn’t hear an argument from me.

“Don’t worry, baby.” I reached up to play with the dark hair at the nape of his neck. “Jaxon’s less of a heartthrob these days and more like a dad to me.”

His brows drew down. “Explain to me how that works? He’s two years younger than me.”

A giggle worked its way up my throat. “Oh yeah. Jealous, Maddox? Because I recall offering to call you daddy once.” Another round of giggles followed the memory of that playing in my head.

“Is this the part where you confess you’ve been drinking?”

“Hannah made mimosas,” I declared.

“Of course she did,” he muttered.

“Said something about making them extra special since no one was pregnant at the moment.” Amy had given birth to her and Liam’s little girl, Eleanora—Nora for short—a few months ago.

Maddox’s hand slid down to cup my elbow. “You going to make it down the aisle in one piece?”

I nodded with determination. “It’s my girl’s big day. I’ve got this.”

“You got more lipstick stashed somewhere?”

Tilting my head in confusion, I replied, “Yeah, why?”

“Good. Then I won’t feel guilty about stealing some.” He pinned me to the wall with his hard body, his lips slanting over mine, teasing and tasting until I was breathless. When he lifted his head, there was a sheen of pink along his chin and lips.

Reaching up, I smudged it around with a thumb. “You’ve got a little something there.”

“Leave it.” He stepped away. “Don’t want any of the single ladies to get any ideas tonight. I’m taken.”

I sagged against the wall. It wasn’t the champagne making my head swim. It was this man right here.

How did I ever get so lucky?

The sun had set on the most perfect wedding I’d ever attended. The lake was a shiny black under a blanket of stars. Bulb lights cast a soft glow over the dance floor, and music floated in the air as the celebration raged on.

Maddox let us girls do our thing after dinner, but now I was missing him, so I went to hunt him down. His broad body was hard to miss, even from behind, as I spied him cozied up to one of the makeshift bars placed in Jaxon’s backyard. His long fingers were curled around a glass of amber liquid as he spoke to Jenner beside him, and I bit my lip, thinking of where I wanted to feel those fingers on my body.

If this were anyone else’s wedding but Braxton and Dakota’s, I’d have abandoned the rest of the evening and begged him to take me back to our hotel immediately.

The closer I drew to the pair of best friends, the more I realized something was off. There was a palpable tension between the two men, which was very unlike them—they had such a relaxed, easy relationship. Jenner was so fun-loving, even when Maddox was a grumpy asshole.

I slid my hand over Maddox’s shoulder, alerting him to my presence. His muscles relaxed under my touch, and I curled into his side where he sat on a barstool.

He kissed the side of my head. “Having fun?”

“I wanna dance. What kind of sexual favors do I have to promise to make that happen?”

“Love,” Jenner scoffed before letting out a pained groan.

Maddox chuckled, so I asked, “What’s his deal?”

A smirk curved on his kissable lips. “Oh, nothing much. His wife showed up on his doorstep yesterday.”

Wide-eyed, I stared at the Speed’s captain. “You’re married? Where has she been all this time?”

“Oklahoma.” Jenner threw back the rest of his drink before signaling to the bartender that he wanted a refill.

“Does she work there?” I couldn’t stop the natural curiosity I had about this new discovery.

“Hell if I know,” Jenner grumbled. “Haven’t spoken to her in the four years since she walked out.”

My gaze slid to Maddox, who was eyeing his friend critically.

“Am I missing something?” I whispered in his ear.

“Jenner’s got a bleeding heart,” he explained. “And Evie knows that, or she wouldn’t have come back, begging for his help. Even though I think it’s a really bad idea.”

Jenner flinched at Maddox’s words.

“What kind of help?”

Maddox opened his mouth to respond, but Jenner cut him off. “Take your girl for a dance. Enjoy being in love, and let me be. You’re not going to change my mind.”

Grunting, Maddox stood, placing his hand on the small of my back and leading me toward the dance floor.

I peeked back at Jenner, who was nursing his drink at the bar. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Probably not.” He sighed. “He’s not going to survive a second round with her. Barely made it out alive the first time.”

“What happened?” I frowned, trying to piece it together.

“Baby, it’s not my story to tell.” Maddox pulled me into his arms, swaying to the slow song.

“Okay.”

Trying to shove thoughts of Jenner and his mystery wife from my mind, I let my hand slide up Maddox’s chest. The racing tempo beneath my palm caught me off guard.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?”

A soft smile tipped up on his lips. “It always speeds up when I have you in my arms.”

“Look at you, being all romantic,” I teased.

“How about this?” Before I could blink, he had me dipped backward to the cheer of the crowd before setting me upright.

My face flamed, and I chided, “Stop trying to steal the show.”

“You do that all on your own, love. Most beautiful woman here tonight.”

“Don’t let the groom hear you say that.”

His lips brushed against the shell of my ear. “I don’t care who hears me because it’s true.”

The song ended, and the microphone was tapped. “If I can have your attention,” the band’s lead singer spoke. “Would all the single ladies please come to the dance floor? The bride is about to toss the bouquet.”

There were squeals from various tables, and a rush of excited ladies stomped to the center of the polished hardwood surface. I grabbed Maddox’s hand to avoid the stampede, but my shoulder nearly popped out of the socket when I walked away and he remained rooted to the spot.

Confused, I glanced back at him. “Come on.”

“You should stay.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m good. Let’s get a drink.”

A challenge glinted in his green eyes. “Scared you won’t win?”

“Maddox, I’ve already won. I don’t need to get in the middle of a catfight over a bunch of flowers that will be dead tomorrow. It’s a silly tradition.”

“Humor me?” He shrugged.

“Seriously?”

“It’ll be fun.” His lips brushed against my cheek as he walked past me.

“Annoying man,” I grumbled.

Dakota stood at the edge of the dance floor. “Everyone ready?” She swung the bouquet as she counted out, “One. Two. Three.”

I closed my eyes, praying I wouldn’t end up trampled beneath a mass of fighting women.

“Bristol.” Dakota’s soft voice had my eyelids lifting to find her standing directly before me, bouquet still in hand.

“What are you doing?”

“These are for you.” She thrust the flowers into my hands.

Tears glistened in her blue eyes as she whispered, “I’m so happy for you.” Her hands gripped my shoulders, spinning me around to find Maddox down on one knee.

The flowers dropped to the ground as my hands flew to my face. This wasn’t really happening, was it?

Maddox inhaled deeply before he spoke. “Bristol, you walked into my life at a time when I was lost. But you called to me like a beacon, grounding me when my world was spinning out of control. It was like God saw me struggling and sent the perfect person at the perfect time to make everything okay, to give me a new purpose. Together, we’ve learned that true partnership means leaning on each other. Even on the worst of days, I know you’re there to support me. And I can count on you to challenge me when I can’t see past my own nose to view the bigger picture. You bring out the best in me, and I want to experience everything this life has to offer with you by my side. The good and the bad. The two of us together, always.”

Reaching into his pocket, he produced a black velvet box, cracking it open to reveal a stunning princess-cut solitaire diamond on a platinum band. My right hand slid down to cover my heart while the left dropped to my side.

“Bristol Cooper, I love you more than I ever thought it possible to love another human being.” His green eyes grew glassy. “I love you even more than hockey.”

A sob burst from my throat as chuckles sounded around us.

“So, here I am, on my knees, begging you to marry me because I can’t imagine a world without you as my wife.” He brought his lips inward to moisten them before asking the question little girls dreamed of hearing their entire lives. “Will you marry me?”

Emotion clogged my throat, and all I could do was nod. He was off his feet in a flash, holding me tight as he whispered over and over how much he loved me.

Life was crazy with its twists and turns. Who knew that running away with a broken heart would send me right into the arms of the man who was always meant to be mine—the man who put me back together and made me see my true value.

Maddox treasured me in a way I never could’ve imagined. Terrible singing and all.

God bless meddling friends.

For an extended epilogue with a peek at Maddox and Bristol trying to balance their professional and private relationships into marriage three years later, you can find it here.

Curious about the sudden reappearance of Jenner’s ex-wife? Find out why she’s back after all these years as the Indy Speed series continues in Frozen Heart Face-Off.

Missed out on the stories about the Speed’s rivals? You can catch up with them now in the Connecticut Comets series.

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Acknowledgements

As always, my first thank you goes out to my husband. Your support is endless, and this process wouldn’t be the same without hearing your silly commentary as you read through my books.

To my kids, thank you for being mindful that even though it’s summer, Mom still needs to write, and for giving me a few quiet hours a day to do so.

To Katie, my editor, thank you for always being there to point out inconsistencies and word repetition. My work is always better after you’ve gone through it and suggested adjustments.

To Nina, my proofreader, thank you for making the final pass on my work and for your enthusiasm and excitement about my upcoming projects.

To Amanda, thank you for letting our love for hockey be the basis for our friendship and also the reason it evolved into what it has become today.

To Sam D, thank you for being my right hand and graphic guru. I love how I can just come to you with an idea and you’re able to bring it to life.

To Megan B, thank you for your constant support. Our voice memo messages are the highlight of my day.

Thank you to The Author Agency for their support in launching this book. You made the process seamless and easy.

Thank you to my Spicy Sidekicks. Not just for loving my books, but for your unending love of all books. You are a testament to the book community being inclusive, and I love seeing what you’re reading on a weekly basis.

Last, but certainly not least, the biggest thank you goes out to my amazing readers. Receiving messages about your favorite books or characters of mine or about how something I wrote resonated with you personally lifts me up and encourages me to keep creating. Thank you for appreciating that I tend to write stories involving real-life issues and human emotions. Your support and excitement for upcoming releases makes me wish I could write faster for all of you!

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About the Author

Siena is originally from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where a love of sports is bred into a girl’s DNA. Her love of romance novels came early as well. She would often accompany her romance reviewer mom to book lovers’ and romance writer’s conventions, where she sat in on workshops and met numerous best-selling authors. It wasn’t long before she was filling notebooks with her own stories, which often starred herself and a certain real-life prince. 

As luck would have it, she met and married a handsome athlete instead. After several temporary residencies in multiple states and Germany, they finally settled in Michigan, the land where youth hockey reigns supreme. 

Her stories no longer feature herself, but draw from her past experiences as an educator, businesswoman, fashion consultant, and world traveler when creating her strong heroines. “Oh yes,” she says with a wink and a smile, “There are bits of me in all of them.” Now, she spends her days writing happily ever afters for fictional characters and her evenings at the local hockey arenas cheering for her three children.  

Siena loves to hear from her readers. You can email her at:

siena.trap.books@gmail.com

Or find her on social media (FB, IG, and TT): @siena.trap.books

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More Books by Siena Trap

Remington Royals Series

Scoring the Princess

Playing Pretend with the Prince

Feuding with the Fashion Princess

Connecticut Comets (Hockey) Series

Bagging the Blueliner

Surprise for the Sniper

Second-Rate Superstar

Indy Speed (Hockey) Series

A Bunny for the Bench Boss

Frozen Heart Face-Off

Goalie Goal

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