Chapter 6
Chapter Six
McKenna scrolled through the team’s Facebook page, making sure all her posts for today went live and perusing the comments from fans, particularly the ones on the posts that showed her and Tank together at the gala.
It had been less than a week since the black-tie affair. Just six days since Tank had walked her to her door and kissed her to within an inch of her life.
McKenna still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to pull away from him, because God knew that was NOT what her body wanted.
After saying goodbye and locking the door, McKenna had gone straight to her bedroom, stripped off her dress, and given herself four orgasms in a row with her new best friend—her vibrator.
Every single one of those orgasms had left her trembling and wrung out, with Tank’s name on her lips and his handsome face behind her closed eyes.
Jesus H.
She was in serious trouble here.
Because lines that should be crisp and crystal clear were now blurry as hell.
Tank Phillips was literally the last man on the planet she should be thinking of beyond a professional working relationship.
The guy checked off every single one of the boxes in her “avoid like the plague” category.
He was a swaggering, cocky hockey player. That’s a big hell no.
They worked together. Another hell no.
And the word commitment wasn’t even in his vocabulary. Put a big fuck no next to that bullet.
So why—WHY—was he consuming her waking thoughts and monopolizing her dreams?
She’d nearly let him kiss her on the dance floor…in front of God and everybody at the gala. She’d spent months regaining control of her life, setting reasonable career and relationships goals that wouldn’t leave her with another broken heart, and building her confidence back brick by brick.
Tank didn’t fit into any of that. Even worse was, she knew all too well he could destroy what she’d found here.
This was her job, dammit, and she refused to screw it up. She was still too new, with only ten months behind her. She’d worked her ass off during that time to prove that Benny had been right to hire her, that she was more than capable of doing the job.
Her attention shifted from the computer screen to her phone, which was propped up on a PopSocket, Tank’s voice coming through the speaker. He was currently doing an interview with a popular sports podcaster, something she’d set up during the early days of his reputation rehabilitation.
Tank was killing it, though she wasn’t surprised by that. He’d been playing by all the rules she and Benny and Roger had laid down for him right after that video went viral.
In the past, she typically held her breath during Tank’s interviews and press conferences, because he had a habit of saying the first thing that popped into his head rather than giving the appropriate responses the rest of the guys were so adept at wielding.
He’d pissed off opponents from other teams—as well as some of his own teammates—with his hard-hitting comments about dirty plays, tough losses, and bad calls.
Today, however, he was nailing it.
Ten out of ten, chef’s kiss perfection.
Of course, the second she thought that, the interviewer strayed from the approved list of questions.
“It’s been just over a month since a video featuring you went viral.”
“Five weeks,” Tank said, his tone just as smooth as it had been throughout this conversation.
“The video, which featured you and two women standing outside during a fire alarm at a hotel, caused quite a scandal, as you were all under the influence, underdressed, and one woman was wearing handcuffs.” The interviewer chuckled, as if amused by his own words.
Tank, uncharacteristically, remained silent.
The interviewer continued smugly. “The fallout from that video caused you to be suspended from play for two weeks.”
Tank paused for another moment, then asked, “Is there a question somewhere in this recap?”
The interviewer sounded less amused when he said, “We’re nearing the end of the season, and the Stingrays are going to have to fight hard if they want to secure a spot in the playoffs.
You’re one of the team’s top scorers, and there are a lot of fans who believe the Rays would be in a better position now if you hadn’t been sidelined for those six games. ”
McKenna growled. The podcaster had promised her the interview wouldn’t stray into anything personal, as his listeners were more interested in hearing their favorite players talk about the sport. But obviously, he’d been playing the semantics game.
More silence met the interviewer, until Tank cleared his throat. “Still not hearing a question, Chuck.”
McKenna could practically hear the smirk in Tank’s voice, and she loved it. “Make the fucker work for it,” she muttered.
“Do the Rays fans need to be concerned about your…er…extracurriculars keeping you off the ice again this season?”
McKenna held her breath, waiting for Tank’s response.
“No, they don’t. As I said in the press conference immediately following the release of that video, I regret my actions that night, because I not only let myself down but my team and the fans, as well.”
McKenna blew out a long, slow breath because his response had been good. Very good.
She sent up a silent prayer that the conversation ended there, but…it didn’t.
And this time, Chuck, the fucker, didn’t even bother couching his personal question in with game talk. “Could that be because there’s a new woman on the scene?”
Tank didn’t miss a beat this time. “Do you really think the listeners care about who I’m dating?”
It was a good answer, but McKenna could tell the interviewer took that response as confirmation there was someone new. “Sources report that your date for the Stingrays Foundation gala last week, McKenna Bailey, is the same woman you’ve been seen with on several occasions in the past few weeks.”
“McKenna works in the Stingrays organization. We’re friends.”
“Those who attended the Stingrays Foundation gala seemed to think the two of you looked like more than friends.”
McKenna made a mental note to blacklist Chuck’s podcast.
“Didn’t realize you were such a big fan of gossip, Chuck.” Tank’s tone was smooth as butter.
There was a pause for a moment, and McKenna expected Chuck to be the one to break it.
She groaned when Tank did.
“Listen, I’ve known McKenna for almost a year.
She spends a lot of time with me and my teammates, even traveling with us when we’re on the road.
We’ve become good friends. She’s bright and funny.
When all the stuff with the video went down, McKenna was the one I turned to for advice because I trust her.
I’m not going to lie, I was feeling pretty low during that two-week suspension.
The only thing that made it tolerable was McKenna.
She’s smart and compassionate and she helped me through a very rocky time. ”
He trusted her?
Chuck accepted that response, mercifully changing the subject, he and Tank talking about the upcoming game. McKenna listened with half an ear, her mind whirling over all of Tank’s comments about her.
He trusted her?
The fact that she was starting to trust him, as well, sent her heart racing, her breath growing shallow, until she forced herself to do some deep breathing exercises to calm down.
Turning back to her computer, she stared at the screen, struggling to recall what she’d been doing.
Not that it mattered. Because twenty minutes after the podcast was over, Benny showed up in her office with Roger on his heels. They shut the door behind them—something they never did.
“Is everything okay?” she asked nervously. She was still new enough in her job that she couldn’t help but worry she’d be out on her ass after any misstep.
Benny raked a hand through his hair, a sure sign he was uncomfortable.
What the hell did she do?
She started frantically going through the past few days in her head, trying to figure out what she could have messed up.
“That podcast was great,” Benny exclaimed, walking in and sitting in a chair across from her desk. Roger followed suit, claiming the second seat.
She nodded. “Yeah. Tank did well. Though I’m not happy with Chuck. I made it very clear he wasn’t to mention the viral video, and he agreed.”
Benny shrugged, seemingly unconcerned about Chuck straying from the script. “Tank held the line, sounded contrite for his actions. It feels like Chuck helped further our cause, because it reinforced what was said in the initial press conference.”
McKenna could see that point, but she was still pissed, certain if it had been Benny who’d set up the parameters of the interview, rather than a wet-behind-the-ears newbie, Chuck wouldn’t have mentioned the video.
She started to relax, assuming Roger and Benny were simply here to rehash the podcast.
“Roger and I were interested in Tank’s comments about you.”
McKenna felt her face flush. Not because Tank had said anything inappropriate but because she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss and the fact he trusted her.
“I knew when I went to the gala as his date, people would start wondering who I was. I suppose we should have anticipated that and come up with a canned response. Not that Tank didn’t handle it well,” she added.
“He handled it very well,” Roger agreed.
“And you’re right. We should have anticipated questions.
I think we assumed you going to all the promo ops and to the gala with him would have been viewed as ‘other duties as assigned,’” Benny said, grinning as he finger-quoted one of his favorite phrases.
There was a standing joke in the PR department about Benny’s love of assigning random tasks that weren’t exactly part of a person’s job description.
Her presence on the road taking photographs fell into that category.
“Tank did a good job clearing that up in the podcast,” McKenna said. “He let them know I work here, so—”
“I’m not entirely sure he did clear it up,” Benny interjected.