Chapter 5 Joey
There are three texts on my phone this morning:
Rise and shine, potty mouth. Missing you already. ?? - Nox
OMG have you seen TMZ??? - My assistant
Meeting. My office. Now. - Management
The TMZ headline makes my stomach drop: "HOCKEY'S BAD BOY'S EX TELLS ALL: 'He's Not The Man They Think He Is'"
Complete with photos. Lots of them.
"Elf," I whisper, but after last night, the word feels inadequate. Especially when I see the pictures.
Nox and some reality TV star, Candy? Crystal? in various states of undress. They're clearly old photos, judging by his different tattoos, but they're explicit enough to make my cheeks burn.
And the article.
"He's all about the image," says Crystal Sanders, star of 'Rich Girls of Reality.' "The bad boy with a heart of gold? Please. I've got videos that would ruin him."
The rest is unprintable. Even by my new, significantly looser standards.
I race to management's office, still wearing yesterday's clothes and what's definitely a hickey peeking above my collar. Perfect.
Nox is already there, looking unfairly good for someone who spent the night doing unspeakable things on training room equipment. His eyes find mine instantly, dark with concern.
"Sit," Management says.
We do. Carefully, in my case. Certain activities have left me tender.
"Explain."
"She's lying," Nox says immediately. "Those photos are three years old, and—"
"Not the photos." Management slides a security camera still across the desk. "This."
Oh.
It's us. Last night. Against my office wall. While nothing explicit is visible, the position leaves little doubt about what's happening.
"That's..." I start, but what can I say?
"That's private," Nox finishes, voice hard.
"Nothing in this building is private." Management sighs. "Fix this. Both the ex and whatever this is. Or you're both done."
"You can't fire her," Nox says. "She's the best PR manager we've had."
"Watch me."
We leave the office in silence. The moment the door closes, Nox pulls me into an empty conference room.
"Joey."
"Don't." I step back. "This was a mistake."
His eyes flash. "Last night wasn't a mistake."
"Look at those photos, Nox! Look at what she's saying about you!"
"Ancient history."
"History repeats." I wrap my arms around myself. "I can't be another Crystal."
He closes the distance between us. "You really think that's what last night was?"
"I think." My voice shakes. "I think I can't lose this job. And I think you have a pattern."
"A pattern?"
"Women. Public scandals. Moving on."
His laugh is bitter. "That's what you think of me?"
"I think you're exactly who you pretend to be on social media. The bad boy. The player."
He kisses me.
It's not gentle like last night's later kisses. It's angry and desperate and tastes like goodbye. I kiss him back just as hard, cursing in my head with all the new words he taught me.
He pulls back, resting his forehead against mine. "I never posted about Crystal."
"What?"
"Check my social media. Three years of posts. Not one photo of her. Not one mention."
I think back. He's right.
"Because she wasn't real," he continues. "She wasn't someone I wanted to share. Not like—"
"Don't."
"Not like you." His hands frame my face. "Why do you think I post so much lately? Every time you're in frame, every event you plan, I want people to see us. See you."
"Nox."
"Check your phone."
I do. He's posted again.
It's a simple photo from yesterday's clinic. I'm laughing at something off-camera, snow in my hair. The caption reads:
Some people are worth losing everything for.
"You can't post that," I whisper.
"Already did." He kisses me softly. "Ball's in your court, Winters. Delete it or deal with it. But know this isn't a game to me."
He leaves me there, shaking.
My phone explodes with notifications:
OMG is Nox Murphy in love???
That social media manager is living the dream
Forget Crystal, look at how he looks at Joey!
The door opens. I expect Management. Instead, it's Tommy from the clinic.
"Ms. Winters? Are you okay?"
I wipe my eyes. "Hey, buddy. What are you doing here?"
"Mom works here." He sits beside me. "Are you sad because of the mean lady on TV?"
"Something like that."
He considers this. "When I'm sad, Mr. Murphy says bad words help."
I laugh despite myself. "Does he now?"
"He said sometimes you have to say what you feel, even if it's not nice."
Out of the mouths of babes.
"Thanks, Tommy." I stand up. "I think I need to go say some not-nice words right now."
I find Nox in the locker room, half-dressed for practice.
"Your post," I say.
He turns. "Yeah?"
"It's inappropriate, unprofessional, and completely against protocol."
"I know."
"Management will have my head."
"Probably."
I grab his jersey. "Post another one."
His eyes darken. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I pull him down to my level. "Something that'll really piss them off."
He grins against my mouth. "That's not very professional, Ms. Winters."
"Elf professional."
He growls, actually growls, and lifts me onto the nearest surface.
"Cameras," I gasp as his hands slide under my skirt.
"Let them watch." He bites my neck. "I want everyone to know you're mine."
"Fuck.”
"God, I love your new vocabulary." His fingers find exactly where I want them. "What other words did I teach you?"
I tell him, in explicit detail, earning a groan.
"Marry me," he says against my throat.
"What?" I pull back.
"Not now." He kisses me deeply. "But someday. When you're ready to admit this is real."
"You're crazy."
"About you? Absolutely."
My phone buzzes. Another TMZ alert: "Crystal Sanders Sex Tape Scandal!"
Nox stiffens, but I just laugh.
"What's funny?"
I show him the photo accompanying the article. Crystal with three different hockey players. None of them Nox.
"Guess her story's falling apart," I say.
"Guess so." He studies my face. "Still worried about being another Crystal?"
I pull up his Instagram, typing quickly.
"What are you doing?"
"Playing dirty." I hit post before I can think better of it.
The notification pops up immediately: @JWinters has been tagged in @NoxyBoy's latest post.
It's us, from just moments ago. Nothing explicit shows, but my legs are wrapped around his waist, his face buried in my neck. The caption reads:
@JWinters says bad words now. Guess I'm a good teacher after all. ??
"You're fired," he says admiringly.
"Worth it."
His phone rings. Management, probably. He silences it.
"Practice in ten minutes," I remind him.
"Plenty of time."
"For what?"
He smirks. "Teaching you some new vocabulary."
This time, when I curse, the whole locker room echoes with it.