9. Maddox
9
MADDOX
“Are we in the right place?” The community center isn’t in the best part of town and the building looks like it could do with a lot of love. A lick of paint, some plaster repair, repaved parking lot… I make a mental list as Jocelyn takes my hand and leads me up the steps.
“I know it’s not as flashy as some other community hubs, but they have a great little dance studio inside.” She leads me in, down a hallway, and to a multi-functional gymnasium that could also do with some a little extra attention. Then, she unlocks a set of double doors and leads me into the dance studio.
I watch her reflection in the scuffed and graffiti’d floor-to-ceiling mirror as she unlocks a cabinet and switches on the heating and the sound system. Despite the surface blemishes, the floor is clean and well-cared for. I suspect Jocelyn has something to do with that.
“Wait until you meet the kids. They’re honestly great. Strong and passionate and enthusiastic.”
She shrugs out of her sweater and my heart pounds a little harder at the sight of my oversized Frostwolves’ T-shirt on her. She’s taken a pair of scissors to it, so now it’s a wide-necked crop top, listing off to the side and exposing the curve of her shoulder.
“This is where I learned to dance.” She spins in a small circle, arms up. “Twice a week and on Saturday mornings, I’d come here. Volunteers kept us engaged, let us express ourselves in motion and movement, kept us fit and out of trouble.”
“You? Trouble? Never.”
She laughs. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t always so keen on following the rules.”
“No,” I say in mock surprise, smiling at her.
She bends over, stretching her muscles and providing me with an excellent view of her assets.
I clear my throat and glance at the clock, trying to keep my blood in the appropriate place considering a bunch of teenagers would be turning up any moment.
“You struck me as a natural. Or maybe you developed all that talent from one of those fancier studios downtown. Didn’t know you’d fallen in love with dance at a community center.”
“My parents couldn’t afford proper dance school lessons, so I came here with other kids from the community. We took advantage of free classes and different programs.” Her eyes flit around the room and she gives a little wistful sigh. “That money that Luke took from our shared savings was meant for this place. I wanted to buy it out, offer more dance programs for the neighborhood. I wanted to give back, you know? Or pay it forward. My dream has always been to establish a non-profit and invest back into the community that shaped me.”
“Wow, that’d be incredible. You’re incredible.” I breathe, my jaw tightening even as my heart aches for the dreams she’s had to delay. “How much did he take? Have you been able to recoup any of it?”
She shakes her head and names a figure that has me whistling low as anger burns bright in my chest.
That asshole not only took from my angel, he stole from some kids.
And even though I could offer to cover the fees, I know it’s not something she would accept. This place is special and it’s hers. She deserves to make it happen for herself, to feel the pride I felt when I got drafted and when my brother signed his first pro contract.
I won’t take that from her or cheapen the accomplishment by trying to play savior, but there still must be a way I can help.
“It’s okay, though. After three years of hustle, I’ve almost got enough to do it,” she says, a small smile on her lips. “Right after ASEG pays the rest of my fee for rehabilitating your image.”
I chuckle as Melissa and the teens filter in, greeting Jocelyn warmly with fist bumps, high fives, and hugs. She’s fantastic with them and I have a moment when I envision her joking, laughing with my nephews and niece… and it’s easy —too easy— to imagine her as a mother.
As a wife.
As my wife.
I give my head a shake as she snaps her fingers for everyone’s attention.
“Alright, listen up, everyone. This is Maddox. He’s here to see if he can keep up with you guys.” She shares a mischievous smile with them. “Let’s show him what we got, huh?”
Curious eyes turn to me. I wave and smile as a light bulb goes off for one the younger boys and his eyes go round.
“Holy shit, you’re Mad Dog Davies! You play for the Frostwolves!”
“Simon, language!” Jocelyn scolds lightly as she gets the music started.
“Sorry, Miss J. But he’s Mad Dog Davies.”
I laugh. “Yeah, but you can just call me Maddox.”
“Miss J, is he your boyfriend?” shouts out one of the girls in the back.
I meet Jocelyn’s eyes in the mirror, and keep my tone light as I say, “Yeah, Miss J, am I?”
She suppresses a smile as Melissa raises her camera, ready to capture more footage she can trim into bite-sized highlights.
After a moment, Jocelyn looks away with a faint blush on her cheeks.
“I haven’t decided yet,” she says. “Maybe.”
There are snickers and ooooohhhs all around as I grin stupidly at our reflections. That sliver of hope? That’s all I need.
She’s all I need.
I stroll into the arena twenty-four hours later with an iced coffee in hand and a bounce in my step. My week riding the pine pony has finally come to an end, and I’m buzzing. Tonight is going to be a very special night.
“Davies, you’re back on the top line with Winter Wolf tonight,” Coach Sullivan says, flipping through his notes as I pass him in the locker room.
“You got it, Coach.” I clasp hands with Alexei Kozlov as I pass.
“Nice vacation?” he asks, smiling.
I snicker. “Getting some the time off helps with the R&R, but I’m sorry it meant you guys had to play without me.”
“We managed. One win, one loss. On balance, it’s not bad.” He smirks. “But it’s good to have you back.”
“Guess this means no more clubs for a while, am I right?” Wylie Cade’s eyebrows lift and he grins up at me from his seat amid his goalie equipment.
“Well, no more bachelorette party crashing, anyway.”
I spend the next couple of hours running through my pre-game routine, and when the clock counts down to warm-ups, I peek out of the tunnel to the crowd.
Jocelyn’s going to be here tonight.
I’m thrilled she’s going to be in the building, watching, even though she told me it’s business, not pleasure. The team gave her tickets as a thank you for all her hard work this week and so she can see for herself how the home crowd reacts to having me back in the lineup.
But I’d arranged a surprise. One I hope will nudge her closer to upgrading me from potential boyfriend to actual boyfriend.
And eventually, husband.
Fans are still making their way into the building, finding their seats and grabbing food and drinks from the concession stands. I skim the luxury sky boxes, searching for any sign of my surprise, but there’s no movement where I expect it.
“Mad Dog, your phone’s buzzing!” Alexei calls out and I shuffle back to the locker room to check it.
I flip the phone over to see my brother Dominic and his young family filling my screen.
“Hey, old man,” I answer, holding up the screen to my face.
“Yo, yo, yo. Heard you got yourself in a bit of a pickle with your pickle.” Dominic glances meaningfully at his kids. Romi’s stretching his neck trying to get in the shot, Jojo’s climbing over Dominic’s shoulder, peering at the phone. “How much trouble did you get into?”
I tilt my head to the side, waving at the kids. “A fair bit of trouble, yeah. Management benched me for the week and put me on reputation management.”
“Hi, Uncle Maddie,” Romi shouts.
Jojo turns to Dominic and pouts. “I can’t see!”
“You look suited up, though. Are you skating tonight?” Dominic asks, trying to peer around his kids’ heads. “Sorry, it’s hard to keep up with the time difference. We’re on the road this week in the land down under.”
On the road used to mean playing a hockey game in another city, but these days, for Dom, it means touring with his singer-songwriter wife, Charisse, and their three perfect little kids. I wave at them, pretending to catch the kiss that baby Melody blows me after she’s climbed into Dominic’s lap.
“Yeah, I’m back on tonight.” I pan the camera down, showing off my jersey.
Over by the tunnel, Vic starts winding her finger in the air for me to wrap it up. Guys file out onto the ice as warm-ups start.
“I’ve got to go, but we’re going to need to catch up soon.”
My brother sends me a questioning look. “That’s not something you hear every day. Something up? You in more trouble?”
“No, nothing like that. It’s just… I met someone.”
“Oh, shi—oot.” Dominic self-corrects as three small faces glance up at him. “Who is she and does she know you’re crap at birthday presents?”
I groan. “I took credit for Mom sending you cookies one time! It never happened again, did it?”
“Let’s go, Davies. Out!” Vic turns and exits the locker room while I grab my stick.
“I’ll send you a message. Gotta go. Bye, kids!” Then I end the call on a chorus of “Bye Uncle Maddie” and “Good luck.”
Glancing at the clock, I’ve got less than a minute to get my ass on the ice, so I fumble through my videos for that clip of us dancing together. It’s in my favorites—the one I’d asked Melissa to send me on the side. She’d sent it over and made it all romantic with filters and heart eye emojis and whatever. Swiping my fat fingers across the screen, I hurriedly hit send before silencing the phone and heading out to the ice.
It’s game time, baby.