Chapter Ten
Briggs
"This is cruel and unusual punishment," Tia grumbles from beside me as we duck into the back of the arena at a little after five in the morning.
I just chuckle in response, lacing my fingers through hers. "You'll survive."
"The sun isn't even up yet."
"You can sleep later." I tug her closer, pressing my lips close to her ear. She smells a helluva lot better than the arena, that's for sure. The place is old, the stench of sweat and floor cleanser baked into the cement walls of the hallway "I'll eat you to sleep after practice. Deal?"
She shivers, a tiny moan escaping her lips. My dick instantly stiffens in my pants, and I almost regret saying it. Almost. Practice will be a bitch with a hard-on, but there's nothing I can do about that. I spent half the night inside her.
If heaven exists, it's her wrapped around me. It's the sounds she makes when she comes and the way she trembles and shakes. It's the look in her eye when I whisper filth in her ear, and the way she touches me. It's her, always her.
She was worth the wait.
"What's the plan for today?" she asks, peering up at me, her eyes a little dilated, like she's trying to think about anything other than me eating her right now.
I decide to take pity on her. I know she's anxious about meeting my teammates, and I don't want to add to it. She should be comfortable here. And she needs to know that not every team is like the one that shattered her confidence and her trust. This team may be a goddamn zoo, but they're good guys.
"Simple," I say. "We'll meet everyone, explain what your organization does, and then I'll extort them for large sums of money."
A shocked laugh burbles from her lips. "You did not just say that."
"I did. Meant it, too."
"We aren't extorting your teammates," she sniffs. "We're humbly requesting they sign on to help fund scholarships for college athletes."
"Extortion sounds like more fun," I tease, pausing in front of the locker room. "You want to wait out here while I make sure everyone is decent?"
"Um, yes, definitely," she says, her eyes wide.
I just grin, pressing a hard kiss to her lips before I nudge her away from the door and slip inside. Surprisingly, everyone is fully dressed, lined up on the benches like they're on their best behavior. Ryan's even sitting on his hands like a little boy in a church pew.
It's fucking weird.
I draw to a stop, eyeing them suspiciously. "What the fuck is this?"
"Karsen threatened them," Trent drawls, his lips quirked up in a grin. "Said if they didn't behave while Tia was here, they'd be skating suicides all morning. Guess they don't want to skate suicides."
"He threatened you, too," Ryan grumbles.
"Uh, definitely not. I know how to behave."
"Well, that's a damn lie if I ever heard one," Cale mutters under his breath. "You only pretend to behave when it suits you."
Trent just shrugs, smirking.
I run my gaze over my teammates, not sure I trust whatever this is. Are they good guys? Hell yes. I'd ride at dawn for any of them. Do they know how to behave? Absolutely the fuck not. They're all terrorists. The proof is in our group chat.
"If you stress her out, I'll slip through your windows while you're sleeping and murder you with your own pillow," I warn them, earning a shit-eating grin from Ryan.
"You were way less cranky before you fell in love," he says.
"You'll get it one day."
All across the locker room, my teammates' eyes go wide.
Shit. Did I just admit that I'm in love with her?
Yeah, I think I did. But I'm not going to take it back or downplay it, either.
That's precisely what's happened here. I fell in love with her so fucking hard I'll carry evidence of impact for the rest of my life, in all the places that matter.
When she's ready to hear it, I'll tell her too. But not yet. I'm not trying to push her out of my life. It's one step at a time, one day at a time.
"You're all donating a shit ton of money," I warn, earning groans from a few of them. "Blame Ryan. He's the one who came up with this plan."
Someone tosses a towel at him, but he just laughs. "You're welcome, asshole."
I grin, yanking open the door to poke my head out. Tia is leaning against the wall, looking a little like she wants to throw up. "Beautiful," I murmur, my voice soft.
She startles, glancing up at me, her face pale.
"They're ready for you."
She swallows hard and then nods, smoothing her hands down her sides. "Okay," she whispers, stepping up in front of me.
"You've got this," I mouth, lacing our fingers together.
She squeezes them gratefully, nodding, and then steps into the locker room with me. For a long moment, no one speaks. They all just stare at her. She stares back, trying to take them in. I know it's a lot. Even seated, they're all big, and she probably feels like this is our territory, not hers.
I think she knows a few of them, at least in passing. But she still looks like she's ready to shit a brick as her gaze bounces around, trying to take in the walls of lockers, the team on the benches, the piles of gear, and the overpowering smell of sweat.
Has she ever been in a locker room before? Shit, probably not. I'm guessing she's made ninety different excuses never to step foot in Kingston's locker room.
"Guys, this is Tia," I say. "Tia, this is the team." I point everyone out, naming them. Her mouth moves silently as she repeats them, trying to commit them to memory. "They're big proponents of education."
"Damn straight," Ryan says, which makes Tia snort softly.
"He threatened you, didn't he?" she asks.
"With murder and mayhem," Colt says solemnly.
"Figured. He's a big bully. Luckily for you guys…I'm worse."
Everyone is silent for a moment before they crack up, the tension in the locker room evaporating.
"In all seriousness," she says, taking a deep breath, "getting you guys involved was his idea, but it's not a terrible idea.
I'm sure some of you struggled to pay for your education.
We have hundreds of thousands of students in the United States in the same boat.
A lot of those students are promising athletes.
And because they can't afford tuition, most of them never make it to this level. "
The league doesn't draft straight from high school often. Usually, it's from a competitive league or a college team, meaning good players get passed up when colleges decide the funding just isn't there to recruit them to the team.
"You don't have to sell it to us," Karsen says from the end of the bench, his voice a soft murmur, "we're on board. Just tell us what you need from us."
She looks at him, a little shocked, as if she expected this to be a tougher sell.
And then she takes another breath. "Scholarship funding, for starters.
I've run the numbers, and if we want to send one hundred athletes to college per year, we're looking at a minimum of fifty million dollars to fund an endowment. "
Madden whistles between his teeth. "Goddamn, that's steep."
"Yeah, it is," she says quietly, meeting his gaze.
"And education gets more expensive every year.
Which is where you come in. Briggs has agreed to be the face of the Endowment, but his job would be a lot easier with your support.
I can provide any information you need on Hearthstone to make your decision, whether it's financials, historical data, information on the students we serve, bios on our board… whatever."
"Don't need it," Karsen growls.
Tia looks at me, her brows furrowed.
"We've already done our homework, sweetness," I murmur. "Did it before I even flew out there."
"Oh," she says.
"We're on board," Karsen tells her again. "If it's fifty million you need, we'll help make sure you get it."
"I can draft pledge forms for you to share, create graphics, whatever you need," she says. "And we'll plaster Briggs' face on everything. It'll take some time to get everything done."
Karsen jerks his chin in a nod. "Let Briggs know what we can do, and you've got it."
"Thank you," she says gratefully, her voice trembling a little. "You guys are about to help change a lot of lives."
As soon as we step outside of the locker room, Tia faceplants into my chest, her entire body shaking. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into me.
"I thought that would be a lot harder than it was," she admits.
"Because they're hockey players?"
"Because it's a lot of money." She tilts her head back, looking up at me. "I don't know if you're aware or not, but people with money are usually the hardest to convince to part with it."
"Maybe, but a lot of these guys came from nothing," I murmur, touching her cheek.
"They know what it's like to rely on the kindness of others to pay for equipment, training camps, travel, or education.
Athletics is expensive, no matter how you slice it.
If they can pay it back to kids who deserve a shot, most are willing. "
"I can't believe we're really doing this," she whispers, then immediately bites her lip. "You think we'll be able to fund it?"
"We'll fund it," I say, confident of that fact. Between my team, my brothers, and her brother, our social circle isn't exactly small. And it comes with deep pockets. I never use my status much, but I have no problem using it now. "What do you need from me?"
"Um…a quote for a press release, I guess? We need to announce the funding drive and your participation. I'll also need photos to go with marketing materials."
"Damn," I murmur, my eyes locked on her lips. "And here I was hoping you'd say kisses and orgasms."
Her eyes heat, darkening. And then she groans softly. "I'll take those, too."
I growl, tugging her up against my chest. My lips come down on hers in a hard kiss. Within seconds, she isn't thinking about work. All she's thinking about is how good she feels in my arms.