Chapter 14
MADDOX
“Hutton! Hang back a sec,” Coach orders once the dressing room has started to clear after the game. I’m usually one of the last ones out, but that’s how I’ve always been. The first guy there and usually the last one out.
Colt and a couple of other players tip their chins at me as they leave, but Bentley lingers, his eyes full of concern.
“All good, man. Go home,” I say.
He doesn’t look convinced. “You sure?”
My relationship with Coach has never been great. He thinks I’m a spoiled kid with a famous last name and a chip on my shoulder. But I never chose my last name, and the chip on my shoulder is what pushes me to be the best player on that fucking ice. He only seems to mind it when we lose.
“Positive.” I nod.
“Text me later. Good game tonight.”
It was a three-to-one game, with two of those goals being mine and the other his. I grin. “You too, sweetheart.”
And then he’s gone, a low chuckle following him out the door. I finish buttoning up my shirt—opting to leave the top two buttons undone and the tie I wore earlier stuffed in my bag—before slipping on my black leather shoes and heading to Coach’s office.
I find Coach Pelant sitting on the soft brown sofa at the far side of his office with his head leaned back and legs spread wide.
He looks about ten years younger with his eyes closed and the stress lines between his thick eyebrows relaxed.
I almost don’t want to interrupt his small break, but he’s already noticed me.
“You played good out there. I was worried you would be too distracted to focus on the game tonight,” he says lowly, sleepily.
I lean in the doorway and push a hand through my still-damp hair.
The quick shower I took after the game was solely for Braxton’s benefit.
Usually, I prefer to shower at home, but I doubt she would have appreciated having to take a ride home with a guy who smelled like a homeless man’s sock in the summer.
A pinch in my chest has me moving on with this conversation.
I don’t want to think about her right now.
Not how devastated she looked when I pointed at her on the ice and definitely not how fucking awful it made me feel watching her purse those lips and kiss her fingers, knowing that the first time I get to feel those plump lips against mine, it won’t be real. It will all be an act.
Fuck. Enough. We haven’t even talked about that yet. That’s a topic for tonight.
“Hockey is always top priority to me,” I answer.
“I like that about you, Maddox. I can rely on you. It makes my life easier.”
I tense. “You’re welcome.”
He answers by pushing up into a proper sitting position and leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs. Turning his head, he looks at me. Really looks at me.
“I talked to Alex and your father last night. It seems I was the last to know about your new project, but I’m here if you need anything.”
My jaw tenses when he refers to Braxton as a project, but I bite my tongue. “I appreciate the support. If that’s all, I have to say hi to my family before they leave.”
“Yeah, that’s all. Let me know if you need anything. Try not to miss any more practices. The team can’t see you getting special treatment.”
This time, I let my tongue run free. “Special treatment? You think me taking care of my family and getting myself into shit with the press is special treatment? Alexander did for me what he would have done for any of his players at my skill level. I’ve worked my ass off to earn his respect.”
His thin upper lip curls the slightest bit, and I prepare myself for a comeback I know I won’t like, but a set of footsteps behind me cuts the conversation short. I turn around and startle at the sight of Braxton in the dressing room, frowning at me.
“Sorry, your mom asked me to come find you because it’s taken you longer than usual to meet them, and security let me back here with this pass I got from your dad—” She lifts a laminated card hung around her neck by a lanyard.
“I knocked on the door first, but nobody answered, so I came in and then heard you talking—”
“Braxton.” I cut her off, the corner of my mouth trying to lift. “It’s fine. I’m done here anyway.”
In my peripheral, I catch Coach moving toward me and quickly step into the doorway, blocking his view of her. I don’t know why I feel the need to protect her from him, but I don’t have it in me right now to question it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell him before turning my back on him and closing the gap between me and Braxton. She looks fucking amazing in green, but I swallow the compliment that has inched its way up my throat.
I’m as stiff as a board, but she doesn’t say anything as I press my palm softly to her lower back and lead her out of the dressing room, leaving my bag behind.
Her perfume tickles my nose, and the sparks attacking my palm become impossible to ignore.
She shifts closer, and I don’t push her away. Not right now.
“I’m sorry for interrupting,” she sighs.
I move her in front of me as we leave the dressing room, and my eyes zero in on the name and number on her back. It looks perfect, like it was meant to be there. My dick hardens instantly, and I quickly adjust it before she notices.
“It was good timing, actually,” I mutter once we reach the player-only hallway. My family should be waiting by the garage entrance. I would love to see a security guard try to tell Dad he can’t park there anymore.
“Your coach seems like an asshole.”
“He doesn’t think I deserve what I have. Acts like my dad has gotten me where I am in this league. Everything that’s happened recently is only reinforcing his belief,” I tell her, opening up in a way that surprises me.
“He’s an idiot and an asshole, then. You’ve worked for this. For all of it.”
“I know. He can’t convince me otherwise. It’s just shitty that he can’t be in my corner while we figure this out.”
“He’s just one person. You have the support of so many others.”
“You’re right.”
I glance down at her and pull in a long inhale.
She’s let her curls run free tonight, and they bounce and bob with each step we take.
Long lashes flutter over her eyes and sweep the skin beneath.
There’s a natural flush to her cheeks that pushes through the makeup on her skin, and I ache to feel how warm they are against my fingertips.
She’s so beautiful it hurts.
“You’ve probably heard it a lot tonight, but you played really well out there. I haven’t watched a game in a long time, and I forgot how much I actually enjoy it.”
“Why did you stop watching hockey?” I ask.
She hesitates before saying, “It reminded me of you.”
I drop my hand from her back and shove it in my pants pocket. With a strangled cough, I clear my throat. “Right.”
“We need to clear the air, Maddox. Sooner rather than later if we want this to work. I can’t do this with you if I constantly feel like you hate me. It’s only going to get harder from here. Your sister posted a picture of us earlier, and your page is already overrun with questions.”
She sounds exhausted, and I won’t pretend I don’t feel the same way.
It’s time to get everything out in the open, even if that doesn’t bring the forgiveness she’s hoping it will.
I need this fake relationship to work, and if we react to each other the way we did before the game tonight, nobody is going to buy it.
There is only a month and a half until the adoption day. We can handle each other for that long. Right?
“You’re right. It’s time we cleared the air.”
brAXTON
Maddox’s chest is nearly pressed to my back as we stand on my front porch, and I unlock the door. Thankfully, it’s late enough that I won’t have to worry about my neighbours seeing him here. Especially not Ralph, the hockey fanatic.
I’m relieved Maddox didn’t fight me on my offer to come to my place instead of his again. If we’re going to do this, I need to be somewhere comfortable, and his stone-cold penthouse is not that place.
I push the door open, and he mutters, “Cute.”
It is cute. It’s bright and smells like the strawberry-scented wall plug-in in the living room.
My furniture is mostly handed down and repurposed besides the fluffy white, faux-fur rug tucked in front of a velvet, teal couch and cozy black armchair.
I was going through one of my aesthetic moods when I stumbled upon it, and I folded like a lawn chair in the wind at the image of it inside my home surrounded by vibrant colours.
“Thanks. Living room okay?”
He grunts a reply, and I take that as a yes, leading us through an archway that he has to duck his head under. I stifle a laugh and flip on the light.
“You live in a hobbit home,” he grumbles, sitting on the couch. Surprisingly, he doesn’t have any complaints about it. He just stretches out his legs and drops his head to the couch back and stares at the popcorn ceiling.
“I don’t. You’re just massive.” With a slight turn of his head, he cocks a brow at me. My eyes go wide as my body heats. “Screw you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches slightly, but he doesn’t smile. “Who’s starting? You or me?”
“You make it sound like this is a simple business transaction.”
“I’m just tired, Braxton.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Tired of tonight or all of this?”
“I’m tired of everything at this point.”
“I’m sorry.”
He looks back at the ceiling, his jaw tensing.
“Just tell me why you did what you did and then took off. You ruined everything and then left us all behind. I’ve racked my brain for years trying to figure out why your first instinct was to run from me after everything we’ve been through, but I still can’t figure it out. ”
“Would you have forgiven me if I had stayed?”
Silence. Another jaw tick.
“Exactly. I didn’t want to leave. I had to.”
“Bullshit. You didn’t have to go anywhere. I would have forgiven you. I loved you.”
Scolded, my eyes fall to my lap as they begin to well with tears that I quickly blink back. “I couldn’t even look at you after what happened.”
“Yeah, well, you were the only one I wanted to see.”
I flinch. “I was young and couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. I thought I was doing the right thing for me. Now I know I was wrong, but I made a mistake. There’s nothing else I can say in my defense. I’ve paid for my actions every single day for eight years.”
“A mistake?” he echoes, shooting forward on the couch.
His eyes are wild and angry when they meet mine.
“You told me you thought your father’s idea for me to reject my draft offer was the right one for me.
You knew the risks that came with that choice, but you let him talk me into it and then helped convince me it was the right move when you knew it wasn’t! ”
“I was scared! It’s not a good explanation, but it’s the only one I have. I was young and selfish and in love with you, and you were moving to Florida!”
We’re so close now, and I blink, confused how we got here so quickly. Our knees are touching, and the hand I have pressed flush to the cushion is only inches from the tip of his pointer finger. I look back up from our hands and gulp at the fire in his waiting stare.
I want to touch him so badly, just to remind myself he’s really here.
Despite the anger and broken hearts, I miss him deeply.
Just one brush of my thumb along his stubbled jaw or across his puffed bottom lip—or better yet, his arms around me.
Something so simple would heal me more than any number of words.
“If you had loved me the way I loved you, you wouldn’t have lied to me. And you would have stayed and fought for me when I nearly lost everything.”
“Maddox,” I whisper brokenly.
He tears his eyes away and sits back, creating space between us that I immediately want to take away. Instead, I tuck my hands beneath my thighs.
“I’m so sorry. I should have stayed. I should have fought for your forgiveness, even if I never got it. You deserved better. Everyone did.”
His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he asks, “Do you know what the worst part of all of this is?”
“What?” My skin clams up.
“That after everything, I still can’t find it in myself to hate you.”