Chapter 36
MADDOX
There have only been a handful of times in my life where I have been angry enough to lose my temper in public.
Unless I’m on the ice, I keep that shit locked down tight.
But the minute Coach pulled me off the ice at practice and told me Braxton was in the hospital, it was like someone else took over my body.
Suddenly, I was stripped of everything but anger. A burning rage that whispered in my ear, ordering me to go find who was responsible and show the universe just how little I enjoy it putting my woman in danger.
There was a desperation thrumming deep inside of me that I was unfamiliar with, and it turned me on my ass. It didn’t matter where I was, I knew from the second Coach pulled me aside that I was leaving. My vision tunnelled, and then there was only Braxton.
And as we lie in bed hours later, her cheek pressing against my chest, her fingers carefully curled in my T-shirt, I know that being benched next game was worth it. Without a doubt.
A movie I don’t remember the title of plays on the flat-screen in front of my bed. Braxton is splayed across my chest, her leg looped over my hips, holding me like a koala would a damn tree. I’m relaxed, at ease with her in my arms and in my bed.
I brush my lips over the top of her head, back and forth, back and forth, while humming a song that filled my bedroom from the movie a handful of minutes ago.
It’s been easier to keep Braxton awake than I thought it would, but I think the bowl of sour gummy worms I ordered her to eat has her pretty wired up now.
She uncurls her fingers, leaving my shirt wrinkled in their absence, and then reaches into the bowl at my side, digging around until she pinches a blue-and-pink one. I crinkle my nose when she tilts her head to look at me and reaches up to dangle the worm in front of my mouth.
“Are you sure you don’t want one?” she asks, a barely there smirk tugging at her lips.
“I would rather eat sand, baby girl. Thanks, though.”
She giggles, plopping the candy into her mouth instead. I watch her chew and then lick the sugar granules from her lips, eyes twinkling the entire time.
“You’ve never liked sour candy. It’s weird for you to have an entire shelf designated for bags of the stuff in your pantry if you won’t eat it,” she notes, smacking her lips together.
“Mm, I don’t like it, but you do,” I murmur before stealing a kiss, pushing the lingering taste of the candy to the back of my mind. “And I’m hoping you’ll be here enough to eat them. Was that wishful thinking?”
“Not at all.” Her lips part, tongue pressing into my mouth. I give it a hard suck, fighting a grin when she pushes at my chest. After I release her tongue, she glares playfully at me. “Actually, now that I think about it, it might have been.”
I bark a laugh and drop my head back to the pillows piled behind me. “You’re too sore for a spanking, Braxton. But keep it up and I might not care.”
She wiggles against my side. “Ooh, is that a threat or a promise?”
“It’s neither now that I know you’d enjoy both.”
“That’s rude.”
I push my hand down her side and take her ass cheek in my hand, giving it a squeeze through the silk pyjama shorts she packed in her overnight bag earlier.
“Sorry, princess.”
“There is one way you can make it up to me.” She says it almost shyly, and I’m immediately curious.
“Let me hear it.”
Pushing herself up on her forearm, she holds my gaze and says, “I know we haven’t talked a lot about the fundraisers or the adoption day yet, but it’s already only a month away, and there’s still so much to figure out.
One idea Sadie and I had would probably do well enough that we wouldn’t need to involve as many sponsors this year. I think it would sell amazingly.”
“What’s the idea? I don’t know shit about this stuff, sweetheart. You’re gonna have to spell it all out for me so I can do a good job here.”
She nods, a smile peeking out. “So, Sadie told me that usually they set up a few fundraising events before the adoption day to grow some publicity and, combined with their usual sponsors, gather the money for the event itself. The adoption day is meant to bring in as many potential families as possible, and the more we prepare beforehand, usually the better the turn out.”
“Okay, and what’s this idea of yours?”
A flush slithers up her neck and paints her cheeks as she darts her eyes away. I gently pinch her chin and turn her back to me.
“It can’t be that bad,” I add, hoping to encourage her.
“Do you think you could convince the VW to do a calendar photoshoot with the dogs that are going to be up for adoption?” She says it all in one breath and then sucks in a long one.
It takes everything in me not to start laughing at her nervousness. Not because it’s funny that she’s nervous, but because she thought for even a second that I could deny her anything she wants.
“I think this is the perfect time to test how badly Alexander wants to fix my image. I’ll make it happen.”
Her following smile is all I need to know that whatever I have to do to make it happen will be worth it.
“Oh my God. I love you so much,” she gushes, covering my face with kisses. I tighten my grip on her ass and lay my other hand over her thigh, pulling it further up my body. “This is going to be amazing. Thank you, Maddox.”
I steal her mouth in a longer kiss before she has the chance to pull away again and rub my palm over her leg, feeling the skin become peppered with goosebumps.
“I love you,” I whisper against her lips, heaving a breath. “You’ve been up long enough now if you want to go to sleep.”
She hums, dropping her head to my shoulder and brushing her nose up my throat. “But I’m not sleepy anymore.”
I swat at her ass, and she jolts, looking at me with wide eyes. Turning her down goes against every fibre of my being, but it’s for her own good.
“Sleep. You’re not getting fucked again until you can touch me without your hands starting to bleed and your head isn’t throbbing.”
“You suck.” She tosses herself down on my chest again but keeps close. If I were a cat, I’d purr at the feel of her against me.
“I’ll suck if it means you’re not hurting,” I say.
“Fine. I’ll sleep if you join me.”
“Deal.”
“We need to brush our teeth. I have gummy worm teeth.”
I chuckle. “Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?”
She taps her nails on my side, drawing shapes there that make me shiver. “Would you? My head hurts.”
“Oh, does it now? Huh. Funny how that works.” I grin and slip out from beneath her onto the floor before scooping her up and carrying her to the bathroom.
She gazes up at me with a loopy smile. “Swoon. My own personal knight in shining armour.”
“That’s right. Don’t you forget it.”
“How do you use this thing?” Braxton shouts from the kitchen the next morning, a clang following close behind. “And why is everything so dang high?”
I tug my sweatshirt over my head and shrug to get it fitted properly before leaving the bedroom.
Following the sounds of her struggle, I find her tucked away in the walk-in pantry, leaning into one of the sets of shelves on her tiptoes, hands flailing above her head.
The plastic container I keep my coffee pods in is on the shelf she’s reaching for, so I step up behind her, brushing my chest to her back as I grab it for her.
She spins to face me, gasping when she sees how close I am. I hold the container between us and grin.
“Should I keep a stool in here for you from now on?”
Her eyes roll, but the corner of her mouth twitches. “Maybe just move everything down a shelf. Who makes shelves that high, anyway? Seems a bit extreme.”
Snatching the container, she slips around me and pads back into the kitchen. It’s a different experience having a woman around, moving around my space with such ease. I love it. Truly.
I would love it more if it looked like her space too, but I don’t know if she’s ready to hear that yet.
Braxton pops a coffee pod into the machine and shouts her success when the black mug she chose starts to fill with a steady stream of brown liquid.
“Have I mentioned how good you look in my kitchen?” is what I choose to say instead.
She looks at me over her shoulder, eyes warm and so damn blue. “Once or twice. It’s a nice kitchen. A bit bland for my taste, though.”
I slip my eyes over the space and don’t bother denying it. It’s big, but with white cabinets and white marbled countertops, it looks too clean. Too sterile.
When I bought this place, I didn’t care what it looked like.
I just knew I had more money than I was ever going to need, and the penthouse seemed like as good a place as any to spend some of it.
But after four years, it’s more like a rental space than someone’s home. It’s a far cry from where I grew up.
I rest my back against the countertop and watch her.
The strings on her VW hoodie try to dip into her mug when she raises it to her lips and takes a sip of the black coffee.
A pair of grey sweatpants fall over her legs and are rolled up twice at her ankles.
Messy curls are piled on her head, and her lips are still a bit swollen from the number of kisses I stole this morning, the feeling of waking up with her in my bed too fucking phenomenal not to.
“You’re right. This entire place needs some of the colour from your house,” I say.
“Is this your attempt at asking me to move in, Maddox? Because this penthouse is not my style.”
My eyes go wide for a second, surprise slipping over me before I steel my expression.
“You’re right. It’s not. So, let’s find something that is.”
Now it’s her turn to look surprised. “Are you being serious?”
“As a heart attack, baby girl.”
We’re interrupted by a sudden influx of voices in the penthouse, and I’m suddenly on high alert, ready to push her out of the room, when a head of platinum-blonde hair comes barrelling into the kitchen.
“You’re alive! Oh, my goodness, you had us so worried!” Addie yells, running right for Braxton.
Braxton barely has time to set her cup down on the counter behind her before my sister has her in a tight hug. My girl meets my eyes over my sister’s shoulder, and I shrug, just as surprised as she is.
“Adalyn, don’t you be hurting our girl!” Mom warns, and I turn to find her walking in with Dad at her side.
I double blink and lift my hands in the air. “What are you doing here? You can’t just show up unannounced. How did you even get in here?”
“Nothing can stop a mom from getting to her babies, Maddox. And we’re here to see Braxton, of course. We brought cinnamon rolls because I know how you can’t cook,” she says, dropping a white paper bag on the counter.
“Oh, okay then. Make yourselves at home.” I scoff.
“Thank you, baby,” Mom replies before all but pushing my sister away from Braxton and taking a hug of her own. “Cooper is a gossip, I’m afraid. He called Addie, and as soon as she told us, we knew we had to come and see for ourselves that you were okay. We were so worried.”
Dad sidles up beside me, his eyes on Mom. “She swore me to secrecy after I tried to warn you. Sorry to cut your morning short.”
I shrug, finding it hard to be truly annoyed as my mom and sister start to fuss over Braxton, showing in their own way how much they love her. She deserves the attention and affection they so eagerly want to give her.
“It’s good for her to start getting used to them again. I’m not letting her go this time,” I state.
Dad laughs softly, patting my back. “Didn’t think you would, but I’m glad to hear it. She’s family to all of us.”
“How soon do you think is too soon?” I blurt out.
“Depends on what you’re talking about.”
Braxton grins at me through the gap between Addie and Mom, and fuck if I don’t want to steal her back and bring her to my side. She looks like she belongs here. With me and with my family. And I know to my very core that she really, really does.
Addie leads them out of the kitchen and toward the living room, carrying Braxton’s coffee for her. Mom snatches the bag of cinnamon rolls on her way and winks at me.
I look at Dad, my expression open, heart bared.
“I’m talking about everything, Dad. I want it all with her, and the thought of wasting more time makes me feel ill.”
“I don’t think there is a too soon with you two, Maddox. It’s been a long time coming. If you’re asking me for approval, you’ve had it for over a decade. Do what feels right to you and your girl.”
“Thank you, Dad.” I scrape the words up my throat, the emotion there making it a difficult task.
“For what?”
“For bringing her back to me when I was too scared to do it myself.”