Chapter 26
MADDOX
The silence following my statement is so, so loud.
Braxton’s eyes on me have it impossible to look away. They’re so blue. So beautiful. They remind me of the deepest parts of the ocean where the bright blue becomes a dark navy, as if someone added a million cans of black paint to deepen the colour.
But while I fear the ocean, I don’t fear her.
I move my arm from around Braxton’s shoulder and drop my hand into her lap instead. With my thumbs running over her knuckles, I finally look away, turning to her dad even if that’s the last thing I want to do.
“If you continue to spew lies about me, I’ll take you to court for slander. That’s a promise,” I say.
Feeling calmer than I expected, I look at my girl again. She hasn’t turned away from me, and that makes me feel like the luckiest son of a bitch in the entire world. Her lips part with a smile—just a small, reassuring one—but it does the job and then some.
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” Roy says, shaking his head at me as if he genuinely can’t believe what I’m saying.
“No, you see. That’s the difference between this conversation and the one in your office eight years ago. I didn’t know what I was doing with you then, but I sure as shit know what I’m doing now.”
“I don’t know what I was expecting from this meeting today, but for the first time in years, I can say you surprised me, Dad.
Who knew you would be so willing to throw me in front of a bus to save yourself,” Braxton says sharply, grabbing her purse strap and dropping the heavy thing onto the wooden table.
“Honey, please stay and finish your breakfast with us. At least let me drive you home so we can. Don’t go back to work and ignore this,” Mrs. Heights begs her daughter, a quiver in her voice.
“Are you serious, Mom? You just want her to sit here and listen to this?” Annalise guffaws. “Let her go. Actually, let us all go. I’m with Brax on this.”
“Quit being dramatic, Annalise. This isn’t your business,” Roy grunts.
“No? Then why was I invited to this lame excuse of a brunch? Can we even call it that when we haven’t eaten? Did you pay the waitress to avoid our table while you did this?”
“I was hoping your presence would help keep your sister calm enough that we could have a grown-up discussion about this. The waitress isn’t needed yet. This isn’t a conversation I want interrupted,” Roy snaps.
“Well, that just proves how little you know about the women in this family because we get vicious when we’re hungry. And I’m damn near ravished,” Anna growls.
Braxton laughs under her breath, and I flash her a grin, laughing right there with her. Annalise whips her head toward us, and as soon as she sees us laughing, her anger starts to lift.
“You’re telling me you decided to have this conversation in public when you wanted privacy?” Braxton asks, as dumbstruck as the rest of us, minus her dad.
Roy narrows his eyes on her, and my smile drops as I glare back.
“I knew you wouldn’t come to the house,” he says.
“You mean after the last time you asked me to come over only to blindside me with your plan to sabotage Maddox? Wow, imagine that.”
My interest spikes at those words, and a wave of frustration starts to build before I push it away. What was she supposed to do, you big idiot? Stalk me on social media and send me a message warning me? Even if she had, I probably wouldn’t have believed her.
“Your sarcasm is unbecoming.”
“I beg to differ. Nothing is unbecoming on Braxton,” I chime in.
“Stop it. That’s adorable,” Annalise swoons despite the seriousness around us. I wink at her.
A noise of frustration comes from across the table before Roy pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously at the screen. I don’t know whether we’re being dismissed or if he just has something he thinks is more important than this to deal with right now.
Either way, it’s rude. My grandpa would have this asshole’s phone out of his hand and in the middle of traffic if he were here. My mom’s father is a total hard-ass, but in the most ooey-gooey-centre kind of way.
Braxton snorts. “Well, don’t let us disturb your business. We’re leaving.”
“Not yet. Look at this first,” Roy orders.
I wait, expecting him to hand the phone to Braxton, but he holds it in front of my face instead.
“Go ahead. I want you both to see what you’ve done by carrying out this whole act.
Read those comments and tell me if you still think you’re doing the right thing. ”
I rip the phone from his grip and bring it close, taking in what’s happening on the screen.
It’s a few pictures of me and Braxton from last night on one of the bigger sports pages with the caption “Maddox Hutton off the market? Swipe to meet his new girlfriend—Braxton Heights, the daughter of Hutton’s former hockey agent, Roy Heights. Is this a shot at daddy or is Roy out to lunch?”
The caption doesn’t bother me. We expected this reaction when the news broke. But shit. I can’t look away from the photos themselves.
Braxton on my back, my hands tight on her thighs, her purse strung over my shoulder, and wide, blissful grins lighting our faces. I want the pictures for myself, preferably so I can blow them up and hang them on my living room walls.
“Is this supposed to piss me off?” I ask.
“Scroll down.”
I do, and my stomach folds further into itself with each comment I read.
There are over two thousand comments on this post, and while the majority are just curious hockey fans, some of them make me want to puke.
I swallow the boulder in my throat and tilt the phone out of Braxton’s view when she tries to lean over my body to see what they say.
“They’re fantastic photos. If you know who the photographer is, please let me know so I can get a copy of the originals,” I say, hoping nobody can hear the struggle behind the words.
Roy’s anger is so evident I feel it across the table. “You’re going to let my daughter be called those horrific names and not do anything? This is precisely why I don’t believe this relationship is real.”
“Dad, I really don’t care about what people on the internet say about me. I already knew this would happen.” Braxton sighs.
“Braxton doesn’t need me to protect her by monitoring everything she sees, but I will still protect her. Don’t take my lack of visible reaction as calmness. The last thing I ever want is for her to face any sort of negativity in her life.”
Braxton has always been strong enough to look out for herself, but while I meant what I said about not monitoring what she sees, I still lock the phone and toss it onto the table in front of Roy without letting her see the comments.
If she finds herself looking later on, that’s her business, and I’ll be there if she wants me.
But her first encounter with internet trolls is not going to be in a crowded restaurant in front of her father.
“Sounds like a copout to me,” Roy mutters under his breath.
I shrug. “It would. You have no idea what it means to truly protect someone. You don’t know how to give someone the kind of protection they both need and want because you don’t bother learning that much about them.
You’re really going to preach to me about protection when not even ten minutes ago, you were throwing your eldest daughter under the bus to cover your ass? Right.”
“Dox, I really just want to leave,” Braxton murmurs.
I smile softly. “Sounds good to me. But we’re not leaving here without your crepes.”
Appreciation shines in her eyes as she nods. “Go. I’ll be fine. There are some things I want to say before we go.”
“Be right back,” I whisper before lifting her chin with my pointer finger and kissing her, not giving a single fuck that her dad is glaring daggers at us.
I kiss her softly, slowly, taking my time, and once I’ve sated my need enough to leave her alone with her parents, I bump her nose with mine and pull away.
I don’t like leaving her here alone with them, but if it’s what she wants, then that’s that.
After stealing another quick kiss, I slip out of the booth and place an order at the counter for crepes, pancakes, and every sort of meat they have at this place, all while sneaking glances at the table.
My chest puffs out as I watch Braxton lay into her parents, her little sister joining in every few seconds. The more I watch, the more curious I become about the relationship the two sisters have. They used to be close, and I’m glad to see that still seems to be the case.
There are so many questions I want to ask Braxton. So many conversations I want to have about every little thing she’s done these last eight years and what she wants for the rest of her life. We’ve barely been back in each other’s lives for three weeks, but I feel like I should know more.
Maybe that’s my worry talking. Worry that she’ll disappear on me again before I get the chance to find an answer to all my questions. I don’t want to rush, but the idea of taking things slow with her doesn’t seem to be an option anymore.
We tried that once, and I ended up losing her. Maybe not for that exact reason, but I can’t help but wonder if I hadn’t waited and I had just kissed her and told her I loved her when we were younger if that would have kept her from leaving.
It’s all what-ifs. I have to remind myself of that. We can’t go back. There’s only now and what we do next.
And right now, I want to carry her out of here, take her back to my place, and force her to tell me everything.
I want to tell her all about me and my family and see if she’s as proud of me for my career as I am of hers.
I want to tell her about every win this season and show her every highlight reel that’s been made for me.
And then . . . then I want to bring her to my bedroom and do every single dirty, unhinged thing I’ve ever imagined.
I want to completely lose myself in the feeling of being with her in such a vulnerable way. I want to hear every sound she makes when she feels pleasure and how they change and grow when she’s about to come.
I want to ravish her.
Fuck. I want it all. Every. Last. Thing.
“Here you go! That’ll be fifty-four dollars and ten cents,” the woman at the counter says.
I tear my eyes from the table and smile at her, noting the stack of Styrofoam containers she’s putting inside a brown paper bag. After paying, I carry it over to the table.
Whatever they were talking about comes to an abrupt stop when I reach them and grin at Braxton.
“Ready?” I tuck the bag in my elbow and hold it against my chest as I offer her my hand and help her up.
“Ready,” she breathes out.
I’m surprised to see Annalise standing beside us, purse in hand. She notices my confusion and asks, “Did you think I was going to sit here and eat after all of this?”
I roll my lips to hide my smile. “Of course not.”
Placing my palm to Braxton’s lower back, I follow Annalise outside, not a single one of us looking back at the table before we’re on the sidewalk. I’m sure the lack of attention burns Roy deeper than any goodbye.
“It was great to see you again, Maddox. The three of us will have to have dinner together or something soon,” Annalise says, reaching over to give my wrist a squeeze once we stop just a few steps away from the restaurant.
“The Warriors play our first second-round home game on Tuesday. You should come with Braxton,” I offer.
In all honesty, I’m asking for both Braxton and myself. Fans are crazy on a normal day, but when you throw in the buzz of the playoffs and the recent news of our relationship, I’m worried about having her out in the stands all alone.
“I would love that!” she squeals.
Braxton’s smile tells me I made the right call.
“Great. I’ll send Curly the tickets, and she can send you all the information.”
“Can’t wait. Text me when you get home, ‘kay? We need to coordinate our outfits or whatever girls do when they’re dating someone famous,” Annalise tells her sister.
I stifle a laugh.
Braxton rolls her eyes and pulls her in for a quick hug. “There won’t be any outfit planning. I have to wear Dox’s jersey.”
“Every single day,” I add.
Anna looks between Braxton and me with heavy suspicion. “This sounds like a story I want to hear. I thought you just wore Maddox’s jersey today to piss off Dad.”
“Killed two birds with one stone, I guess. I’ll tell you all about the bet tomorrow. I have to get back to the office before Marco gets overrun,” Braxton says.
My scowl is immediate. “How well do you know this Marco guy?”
Anna giggles and pats Braxton on the back. “Good luck with that. I’m going. Love you lots.” Then her eyes are on me, slightly more narrowed now. “Take care of her.”
“Always,” I promise immediately. She nods.
“Bye, Anna. Love you,” Braxton says, waving when her sister starts to head off in the opposite direction as us.
When she slips through the crowds of people and we lose sight of her, Braxton steps in front of me and wraps her arms around me, resting her cheek to my chest.
Surprised but not stupid, I return the embrace, keeping her pressed to me, not giving a shit that she can probably hear how fast my heart beats for her.
I contemplate dropping the bag of food so that I can put both of my arms around her, but I’m starving, and I need to eat before practice, even if breakfast food isn’t what my trainer would approve for pre-practice body fuel.
“Thank you,” she whispers, blowing out a content breath and pressing even closer, like she’s trying to burrow herself into my chest.
She wouldn’t have any complaints from me if that were the case.
“For what?”
Vivid blue eyes pierce my green ones when she tips her head back and smiles.
“For coming back to me.”