Chapter 7
MADDOX
It’s her eyes that I ached to forget more than anything. If I had, maybe I wouldn’t have spent years keeping myself up at night because every time I closed my eyes, it was hers I saw.
I lied to her just now. She has changed—in ways that piss me the fuck off.
Gone is the teenage girl with permanently pink-stained cheeks and baggy clothes she wore to hide the body she hated. The woman in front of me now is just that. A woman. One who radiates confidence and poise, even now, as she tries to run from me. Again.
Even wearing the ugliest pair of scrubs I have ever seen, she’s stunning.
The teddy bear–printed pants hug the swell of her hips and thighs, and I can only imagine how perfectly they hug her ass.
Each time I blink, I see the way her curved jaw tensed and those pouty pink lips twisted in distaste when she saw me walk into the room.
Like my eyes had taken a damn picture of her and slid it into my memory.
Her pink-toned, pale skin is still covered in freckles, and I hate the part of me that wants to count them all to find out if any more have popped up since the last time we saw each other.
Despite the fact I know I shouldn’t, I find it hard not to let my gaze stray from the hold her eyes have on me. I want to look her over again. Deeper this time.
Fuck. Not happening.
Instead, I flatten my lips and say, “You can’t take off yet. It seems that we have things to talk about it.”
The last statement is just as much for Dougie as it is for her.
When the whole prospect of choosing an animal shelter as my, quote, unquote, “charity work” came to light, I figured it would be easy enough.
Not that I think charity work should be easy—I’ve been taking part in this stuff since I was a kid and know how hard it is—it was just that spending time with animals was an appealing idea.
The last thing I expected was to come face to face with the only woman I’ve ever loved and have ever let break my heart since. This place has to be hers.
I’m a fucking idiot for not looking for a sign outside before walking blindly in here.
Helping animals and running her own clinic has been Braxton’s dream since she was six. Dougie knew it was hers and sent me here anyway.
The wheels are always turning in that old guy’s head, but it would seem as though they’ve picked up speed in the past twenty-four hours.
“We can’t talk here. Hades doesn’t like men,” she says, her voice so damn smooth and the perfect mix between sultry and sweet. Goosebumps break out along my arms as I grind my jaw.
“Hades?”
She stares at the wall behind me as a flush creeps up her neck to her cheeks and ears. “Yes.”
And just like that, I’m fourteen again.
Braxton gives me a white-toothed grin when she walks outside and spots me standing at my regular spot by the fire hydrant on the curb. My hands are in my pockets, but I’m quick to pull them out and wrap her up in my arms when she gets close enough.
Her usual scent of peaches and vanilla is tainted with the smell of wet dog, but I don’t care. I pull her as close as possible and breathe her in.
“I missed you,” I say after she pushes me away with a giggle.
“You saw me four hours ago.”
“Exactly.” I scoff.
She rolls her eyes playfully, and I softly move her to the inside of the sidewalk before tossing my arm over her shoulders.
My dad taught me early on that the man should always walk on the side of the sidewalk closer to the road, and for some reason, it’s always stuck.
Maybe because I like knowing I’m protecting Braxton.
I’ve been bringing her to and from her summer job every day since she started last month.
Yeah, it’s a forty-minute walk from my house to the doggy daycare and another half hour from her house to mine, but I don’t care.
I take every minute of extra time I can have with her.
Even if it means I have to endure sweaty balls in the summer heat.
“How was your day?” I ask.
She slides her arm around my back and leans into my side. “Amazing. If I didn’t want to be a vet, I think I would want to run a doggy daycare. I can’t get enough of all those cute smiles.”
I don’t have it in me to tell her that dogs can’t smile. If anyone could actually make it possible, it would be my Braxton. All she’d have to do is flash one of her dimples and they’d be putty in her hands.
“Who was your favourite today?”
“Definitely Perry. He’s perfected his shake a paw and can do both paws at once now,” she exclaims.
“Have you thought of a career in dog training?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s for me. I prefer the end result rather than the journey getting there when it comes to training.”
“That’s fair.” We hit the crosswalk just in time for the white stick man to start flashing, and we hurry across the road. “Your future dog is going to be the best-trained one in the world.”
“Our dog, you mean,” she corrects me.
I smile. “Yeah, my bad.”
“Do you have any name ideas? You know how bad I am with names.”
“Any name we pick now will probably change by then, Brax.”
“Nuh-uh. Let’s make a promise on it.”
Glancing down at her, I take in the look of concentration on her face and stifle a laugh. “If it’s that important to you, then fine. But this promise could compromise the integrity of all past and future promises if it’s broken.”
“Mmhmm. Now, tell me.”
“Hades. I would name our dog Hades.”
She looks up at me, her head craning back due to our height difference. Bright blue eyes glimmer with the promise of a future. God, I love that look.
“The king of the underworld. Scary and ferocious. It’s a name for a big dog with dark fur.”
I shrug, a rush of embarrassment flooding me for a brief moment. “It’s just an idea, obviously. I don’t know why I would choose that name. I guess I think it would be pretty badass.”
Her fingers press into my side, and she moves closer. “No, I love it. Hades it is.”
The memory leaves me breathless, and for a moment, I’m suspended in time, lost between past and present. It’s not until an elbow digs into my side, the same spot young Braxton’s fingertips were, that I come to.
“I’ll wait for you outside, then,” I snap before spinning around and shoving open the door.
My heart is racing faster than it does after a playoff game, and I hate it. Fucking detest it. The last person who should have this effect on me is Braxton Heights. I can’t do this. I can’t come back here again.
The waiting room is empty, besides the blonde watching me from the front desk. She gives me a timid smile, and I flash her a fake one in return before walking to the front window and staring out at the parking lot.
The door swings open behind me, and shoes slap the floor. Nobody speaks, and I don’t turn around. Just knowing she’s behind me is too much as pain continues to bubble in my chest.
“We need to get this over with now. I have another meeting in an hour,” Dougie says. I ignore him.
“Maddox?”
I squeeze my eyes shut at the sound of my name. It falls from her mouth like it belongs there, and I clench my fingers.
A large hand clasps my shoulder, and one whiff of spicy cologne tells me it’s Bentley. “Come on, man.”
Pulling a breath between my lips, I straighten and walk to one of the beige chairs before sitting stiffly, keeping my eyes trained on the floor as everyone starts to follow suit.
I’m relieved when Dougie starts to speak first.
“If it’s alright, we would appreciate if you sent your receptionist home, Braxton. This isn’t a conversation we need getting out to the press.”
I assume he’s talking about the blonde.
“Yeah, okay. Give me a second.”
Footsteps and muffled voices sound before the front door closes.
“Thank you. I know everyone is confused here, so I’ll try to make this quick. Braxton, I’m sure you know about your father’s latest tale as well as what repercussions would have followed suit. Clearly, this wasn’t exactly your fault, but just hear us out.”
She must nod because it’s silent before he continues.
“How often do you keep up with hockey news?”
“I don’t.”
Dougie releases a tight breath. “Okay, well, Maddox was also recently involved in an altercation outside of a bar with his brother. This ultimately left the opening for your father to slither in with his lies and baseless claims. We’re in rebuild mode, so to speak, and need your help.
I wouldn’t involve you if I didn’t think it was our best chance, but alas, you just might be.
I know you two haven’t seen each other in a . . . long time—”
A rough laugh escapes me before I can swallow it. I feel eyes on me but still don’t look up from the bleached spot of flooring in the centre of the room.
“What I was saying is that we have a plan for how to help his image, but beyond that . . . well, that’s where you would really come in.”
“You want to use the shelter? Fine. Sadie will be your girl for whatever you need,” Braxton says.
“Yes, we want Maddox to take part in the fundraisers and adoption day you’re set to put on in June. It will look good for him to help out with a local cause. But that’s only part of it.”
The slight tremble in his final words snatches my attention, and before I can stop myself, I’m looking at him, my eyes narrowed. He swallows thickly, and my stomach sours. Don’t do whatever it is you’re planning, Dougie.
“How close are you with your father?” Dougie asks cautiously. Careful isn’t like him. He’s unapologetic and confident. He doesn’t get nervous.
“I don’t speak to my dad unless I have no other choice. We aren’t close.”
“Then we have a proposition for you.”
“Who is we?” she asks.
Bentley knocks my knee with his and shoots me a confused look. I shake my head, just as confused.
Paper crinkles, and I look back at my agent to see him pulling a stack of papers out of his briefcase. He flips through them quickly before handing them over to Braxton. Her hands shake as she grabs them and drops them in her lap.
I can’t help but watch as her eyes start moving over the document, growing wider and wider the further down the page she gets. Worry has me leaning forward in my chair.
“An NDA? For what?” she asks slowly. Her nose scrunches in distaste.
Dougie copies my stance, bracing his elbows on his thighs as he watches her inquisitively. “Yes. We can’t take any risks here, and what we’re going to ask of you could very well be just as bad as what your father has done if word gets out.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“Should we?” I ask, fighting back a wince when she flinches.
“No. I guess not. What am I signing an NDA for?”
Dougie taps his fingers on his thighs, looking more nervous than I was expecting.
“We’ve gone over this with the PR management team, and we’re certain this is both the quickest and most reliable way to help fix the damage Roy has caused.
Of course, you’re welcome to say no. Please just think about it before making your decision. ”
“Dougie, just come out with it,” she sighs.
I nod in agreement. My stomach is in knots so tight a goddamn Boy Scout couldn’t untie them.
“We want you to enter into a fake relationship. If Roy Heights’ daughter is seen out with Maddox, it will bring doubt to some of his claims. Especially the one about you breaking his heart all those years ago.”
He drops the bomb, and I burst out of my seat, my head shaking in bewilderment. I laugh, but the situation is anything but funny.
“No. Not happening.”
Everyone looks at me, but it’s Braxton’s gaze that I focus on. Pain and rejection swirl in those blue eyes, and I push back the guilt that seeing those emotions on her makes me feel. I look at Dougie next.
“I should have been consulted about this. You should not have blindsided me here,” I snap, shoving an angry hand through my hair.
“I’ll do anything you need me to,” Braxton murmurs.
I spin on her, my cheeks beating with the anger I’m trying to fight off. “No fucking way. I don’t want your help.”
Her eyes narrow slightly. “You don’t have to want it. It looks like you need it.”
“Yeah, because of your asshole of a father.”
She drops her eyes to the floor, and her shoulders slouch. “I know. That’s why I’m agreeing to help.”
“We can find another way.” Can we?
Dougie rises from his chair and inserts himself between us, facing my direction. The scowl on his face is one of pure frustration. “Knock it off. You don’t need to like the idea, but it’s the best one we’ve got. Don’t take it out on her.”
“Do you have a pen? I’ll sign this today, and then you all need to leave. I want to go home,” Braxton says.
Dougie cocks a brow as if to ask if I’ve gotten myself under control, and I dip my chin in confirmation. After staring at me for a few more seconds, he turns to Braxton and pulls a pen from the pocket of his black slacks.
In a blur, we watch as she signs the papers and hands them back to us, never once showing even a hint of regret. Her ability to be so accepting of this concerns me, but I keep my mouth shut.
This is my mess, and I’m grown enough to know when to pick my battles. Right now, I’m choosing to put my faith in the one person who doesn’t deserve it.
I’m terrified.