Chapter 37
KNOX
What the hell was I thinking flying commercial right after announcing my retirement from hockey?
Right, I was thinking with the caveman part of my brain. It went something like, “Must get to Sloane.” That guy has a one-track mind. Come to think of it, so does my dick. Both of them are obsessed with her.
Who am I kidding? My entire being has been reduced down to thoughts of her. Maybe if I’d saved a sliver of my brain for anything else I’d have considered the possibility that I’d be mobbed at the airport.
“Knox! Are you really retiring?” random people shout at me as I make my way to the first class lounge.
Even in there people approach me about what is going on.
It helps that I’ve had to go back to wearing a sling on my right arm.
It’s a precaution for now. Doc thinks that if I rest it a bit more I might be able to coach the rest of the season.
It’s not really any worse than it was, but without using any painkillers other than over the counter ones, the pain was becoming overwhelming.
The flight from Los Angeles to Portland is fairly short. Since I’m landing in my hometown, and where I play—played I guess—hockey, there’s a gaggle of reporters waiting for me in the baggage claim.
My driver, Patrick, is also waiting for me to help me grab my bags. I try to brush past the questions being shouted at me while we wait for the carousel to start spitting out bags.
“Sir, you can go wait in the car. I’m in spot A 24 right outside the ground floor elevator. I’ll grab your bags,” Patrick says.
Airport security seems like they’re struggling to hold back the reporters, so I take the key from him, and head to the car. Waiting for him to join me feels endless. It’s enough time I start to question my plans.
They’re not very detailed plans, I’ll admit. It pretty much consists of going to Kendall’s apartment and hoping that Sloane is at home. Then I’m going to get on my knees and grovel the best I can. I’m not even sure what I’m going to say beyond that I love her and can’t live without her.
I haven’t said those three little words to her yet. I’ve thought them so many times, but I couldn’t bring myself to say them out loud. I’m not sure what held me back, other than I was afraid of giving her that power over me.
The stupid thing is that she already had it.
Sloane owns me, and has probably since the moment I manipulated her into my bed.
There I was thinking I was reclaiming some sense of power that I thought Madison stripped from me, and instead I was only reclaiming an illusion of it.
Sloane might be submissive in the bedroom, but that doesn’t mean I’m the one with the control.
She gives it to me, which means it is always hers.
If it wasn’t, she wouldn’t have been able to take it back by leaving me.
After what feels like an eternity I hear Patrick knock on the window. I hit the button to unlock the car, and back hatch of the SUV. He puts my bags in then gets in the driver’s seat.
“Are we going to your apartment?” he asks.
I should. It would be the smart thing to do.
I could unpack, get some rest, and call Sloane.
Then I could ask her to see me, but the problem with that is that she could say no.
She’s already walked away from me twice, and I don’t want to make it a third time.
If I just show up, she could still send me away, but she has always at least spoken to me.
Granted, she practically ran from me at the gala, so that might change this time.
There’s only one way to find out. “No, I want you to go to Kendall’s apartment, but don’t leave too fast, because there’s a good chance that Sloane might not let me in to talk to her.”
He starts the car. “As you wish, sir.”
Deep breath, I tell myself, then raise my hand to knock.
“Kendall, did you lose your keys?” I hear Sloane say as she moves closer to the door. “I thought you were still traveling with—” she opens the door and freezes “—You’re not Ken.”
“Hi, baby girl. Can we talk?”
Her expression is wary, but she still steps back to let me in. “I’ve got to go pick up Xander soon.”
I look past her to the clock on the wall. “School doesn’t let out for three hours.”
She bites her bottom lip. “Okay, well, I also have work to do.”
“You work from home?” I ask, curious about any part of her life now that I can get.
Sloane shakes her head. “No, but Tessa and Ford had something they needed to do today, so I’m working from here. If you thought I wouldn’t be home, why did you stop by?”
I trail my fingers down her face and along her chin. “I was hoping I’d get lucky, because I didn’t know where else you’d be.”
She takes a step back. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Did you see my press conference? I told a reporter I’d give them the first question if they slipped word to Ford it was happening. Did he not tell you?”
I can’t read her. Up until now she projected every emotion, usually irritation, through her stormy eyes. Now they’re flat and hiding her secrets. When did she learn to do that?
“He told me,” she says without letting me know that she saw it.
“I am done with hockey. I know what I can and can’t live without, and you were right all along. I was sacrificing my future for a game. I choose you,” I tell her.
She takes another step back, shaking her head. “I never wanted you to choose me. It wasn’t a choice between me and hockey. If you hadn’t been playing injured I’d never have said a word. I don’t mind the road, and I loved working with the team.”
“You didn’t like being a secret. I know that now,” I argue. Why am I arguing with her? I want her to take me back, and yet part of me lives to antagonize her. Especially when she’s like this. I want to see the storm come back to her eyes.
“Did you like that we were a secret?” she pushes back.
There it is, a tiny spark. She still feels something, but I need more.
“I fucking hated it. I wanted to drive away any man that got within ten feet of you, but wasn’t supposed to stake a claim.
You have no idea how beautiful you are, and trust me, every man around you sees it.
Even my fucking friends. There have been several times I wanted to poke West’s eyes out for even looking at you.
I don’t think you have a clue how possessive you make me feel. ”
There’s a wall a few feet behind her. She doesn’t seem to be aware of it. I take a few steps toward her, and she keeps retreating. A few more and she’ll be trapped between me and the wall, just where I want her.
I keep advancing, and in no time her back hits the wall. I want to grab her hands and raise them over her head, but the fucking sling makes that impossible. Lowering my head, I nuzzle into her neck. She smells like vanilla and oranges. It’s sweet and somehow spicy at the same time.
I pull back to look her in the eyes. “If you didn’t want me to choose you, what was I supposed to choose?”
She puts her hand in the middle of my chest, but not to push me back.
She lets it linger over my heart, like she’s reassuring herself it still beats.
“You were supposed to choose you. I couldn’t love you more than you love yourself.
I’ve already done that, fought for someone that would rather rot in their despair. ”
I close my eyes and press my forehead against hers.
I’m so fucking stupid. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.
I want you to know that even though I’m slow, I did figure it out.
I stopped using the pain meds after that night.
I didn’t do that to get you back, but because I wanted to for myself.
And, retiring isn’t just for you. I’m tired of living in pain.
If I found a way to stay with the game and not further injure myself, you wouldn’t be opposed to it? ”
“You mean coaching?” she asks.
A smile spreads across my face. “So you did watch.”
Her lips quirk up in return. “I may have caught a little bit of it.”
“And?” I press.
She exhales and turns more serious. “I don’t have an issue with you coaching. I won’t go back to being your secret girlfriend.”
I kiss her, slow and deep. “I told everyone, on an international sports channel, that I love you. There’s no going back to being a secret.”
“I can’t go back to working for the team,” she says, trying a different tactic.
“I know. I’ve seen the work you’ve been doing for Ford Shaw.
It’s fucking brilliant. His posts seem so personal, and yet as someone behind the scenes I can see that they’re not giving any real private information away.
You’ve done a great job. I could also see that you’ve bonded with him and his wife. ”
“They’ve become family. Ford calls me his little sister. The other members of his family have taken me in too,” she says.
“That scary motherfucker you were dancing with?” I’ve wanted to know who he was since the gala.
“Yeah, that’s Sin. He was there with his wife Raven, and they’ve also decided I’m their little sister,” she says, smiling.
“I better treat you right then, because that guy made the hair on the back of my neck stand up,” I admit.
“That’s for the best because he’s not one to mess with. None of them are really,” she says, and I don’t push for more details. She hasn’t had a family in so long, I’m glad she’s found one that makes her feel loved.
“So, does this mean I’m getting a second chance?” I ask, fear fills me that she’ll say no.
“On one condition,” she says.
“Anything,” I swear. I really will give anything to have her back.
“I want a date. A real one where we’re not pretending I’m there as your publicist.”
I smile. Not only will this be fun, but I’ve also been dying for this moment. “You’ve got it, baby girl.”
I kiss her again, and pull back. I don’t want to stay longer, because if I do, I’ll take her to bed and that’s how I fucked up last time. I need to wine and dine her in the right order, and show her that I want more from her than her glorious body.
“Be ready for me tomorrow night at seven.”
“What should I wear?” she asks.
I think for a moment, because I’m not quite sure what I’m going to do yet, but then it comes to me. “Get ready for a fairytale, because I’m ready to be your prince not your beast.”