Chapter 31
MADDOX
The team flight attendant asks if I would like a drink, and I decline, choosing to sit and brew in my seat with a growly-ass attitude instead. I’m actually really fucking thirsty, but I don’t call her back, not trusting myself not to snap at the poor woman more than I already have on this flight.
We lost tonight, and I’m in a terrible mood. Game five of the second round, and we got our asses handed to us. Turnover after turnover, and most of them came from me.
I scrub a hand over my face and scratch at the thick playoff beard. I’ve never liked growing a beard, but playoffs are my exception. Braxton hasn’t said whether she likes it or not, and maybe I should ask.
Fuck. Braxton.
She should have been sitting beside me right now, head on my shoulder and legs tossed over mine as she slept beneath the dim aisle lights.
She should have been in the arena cheering for me.
My good-luck charm was missing tonight, and I felt it.
That woman is as much a part of me as my right arm, and I played about as well as I would have if someone had chopped it right off.
I exhale a long breath and unlock my phone, our last texts still open on the screen.
Me: I missed you last night.
My Girl: Just last night?
My chest shakes with a laugh. That’s an understatement. I’ve missed her from the moment she left my penthouse yesterday morning. Her job is almost as needy as mine, and as proud of her as I am to see how successful she’s become, I’m still feeling like a scowly asshole when it comes to sharing her.
I kept her with me as much as I could over the past few days, either holding her hostage in my bed or showing up at the clinic whenever I got the chance, even if I had to sit in the waiting room and be gawked at while she was with patients.
She was supposed to fly to Arizona with me yesterday but had an emergency with one of her patients that couldn’t wait.
Now I’m antsy to get home and spend the next two days in bed with her.
Me: No. But you knew that already.
My Girl: For a fake boyfriend, you’re sure needy.
Me: Say it again, baby.
My Girl: Say what again?
Me: We’ve never been fake. Remove the word from your vocabulary.
My Girl: *Gasp* Really?
Me: I’ll be in Van in three hours. Stay up for me.
My Girl: I’ll be waiting. Love you.
Me: I love you too.
I stare at the text messages for a few seconds longer before tucking my phone away and attempting to calm my heartbeat. This girl is my own personal version of paradise.
“You look like a blushing bride,” Bentley teases, flopping down on the empty seat beside me. He reeks of cinnamon, and I arch a brow.
“If that’s a new cologne, you need to toss it.”
He pinches the collar of his hoodie and brings it to his nose. “What if I bought it just for you, baby? You’re telling me you don’t like it?”
“I hate cinnamon.”
He nods. “Is that right? Huh, do you wanna tell me the story behind that? I’m bored out of my skull.”
“Do you remember the cinnamon challenge?”
“The one where you had to suck back an entire spoonful of pure cinnamon?”
I snort. “Yeah.”
He barks a laugh. “You did that, didn’t you?”
“Braxton’s idea. She thought it was hilarious and posted the video online after. You can probably still find it. I haven’t touched the stuff since.”
I can still feel the burn of it in my throat and chest. I’m pretty sure I was coughing that shit up for months.
“Seems like you and Braxton have a lifetime of memories together, huh?”
I roll my eyes at his attempt at being slick. “Ask what you want to know, B.”
Nodding, he folds his arms over his chest and settles into the seat. I watch the gold hoop in his earlobe shake as he repositions himself and find myself wondering if I could pull off an earring as well as he can.
“I want to know what’s really going on. Not the story you’re still feeding to the press and the rest of the team. I’m your friend, Madman. And probably the only one here who can handle you even when you sit and pout for nearly an entire plane ride home. I’m here for you, yeah?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, contemplating what to do. Braxton told Anna the truth about our relationship a couple of nights ago after explaining to me how much she didn’t like lying to her, and I agreed wholeheartedly.
If it were up to me, I would make sure everyone knew that Braxton and I are the farthest thing from fake now, but it’s not up to me.
Fuck, I hate giving people power over me, and I’ve let an entire team of people dangle my career in front of me over something that wasn’t entirely my fault in the first place.
“You have my word, man. Shit, I already know something is up. Things have changed since that day at the clinic,” Bentley adds and then leans over his seat and looks around the plane. “Anyone close enough to hear is passed out. This stays between us.”
I scratch at my thigh before blurting out, “Obviously it started off fake. But it’s the furthest thing from that now.
Alexander’s plan is working, I think. But Braxton and I .
. . fuck. We were fake for about two days.
We’re too real to be anything else. You were right when you said I was in love with her.
I’ve always been in love with her. This entire sham just forced us to come to terms with everything that happened and move on. ”
“So, now what? I’m happy for you, man, but Alexander is still going to want you to pull through. Are you and Braxton just going to keep up appearances and let everything fizzle out?”
“I think so? The only thing I’m sure of right now is her.
Everything else is a giant question mark.
She signed an NDA before we started this entire thing, and we’re supposed to keep playing by Alexander’s rules until after the adoption day she’s hosting and the playoffs are done.
After that, I’m hoping we can just be normal. You know?”
There’s a pang in my gut, but I ignore it.
He hums, nodding. “And what about your contract? You not being signed with us for next season doesn’t sit right with me. This isn’t normal.”
It doesn’t sit right with me either. But there isn’t much I can do. It isn’t up to me.
“That’s supposed to come after everything has died down too,” I say, words tight, my worry obvious.
He clenches his jaw. “If I were you, I would have Dougie start to shop you around, even in secret. Test free agency and see if anyone bites. You can’t put all your eggs in this basket, man.
Not when they’re holding your future captive.
It’s kind of fucked up, actually. You’re the best player in this league, and that’s not me being biased.
Regardless of what’s happening in the press, your talent shouldn’t be up for debate.
You should have been offered a contract months ago. ”
I groan, a prickly sensation worming up my spine.
He’s saying everything I’ve been feeling since I was called into Alex’s office.
I’ve played my ass off for this team, and they’re going to let a completely bogus story keep us from continuing this journey together?
This fake relationship agreement feels a whole lot like blackmail the longer I think about it.
“You’re right,” I agree. “Braxton’s dad soiled my name in the league when I was eighteen, and Vancouver saved me.
When I turned down Florida’s entry contract, it made a statement.
A bad one. They were upset, obviously, and it took my dad and his connections in the league to help turn my decision back around on Roy where it should have been.
Most teams were still on the fence about me when I re-entered the draft, but it didn’t matter.
My dad convinced Alexander that they needed me, and they traded a stack of players to get into the position to draft me. I owe them. And they know it.”
I drop my head in my hands and grip my hair.
“If Vancouver hadn’t drafted me, I wouldn’t be where I am.
I would have been on a team that didn’t care for me and let me rot away on a bench.
Now, Alexander says jump, and I ask how high.
I don’t have an option here. My dad would hate me if I turned my back on Vancouver after everything he had to do to get me here. ”
Silence. Bentley is rigid beside me.
He’s the first person I’ve told all of this to, and I can’t say that I feel any more relaxed than I did five minutes ago. Now, there’s just another person who knows how fucked I am.
“You’ve been in the league for seven years. What happened when you were a teenager is in the past. I think you’re being too hard on yourself. If you put yourself out there—”
“I can’t,” I snap, frustrated with myself. “I just can’t. Loyalty is everything, and I can’t turn away from Vancouver or my dad.”
Bentley gently bumps my shoulder with his. “Okay, Madman. I’m sorry I pushed.”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“You miss your girl. I get it.” He winks.
I laugh hoarsely. “Yeah, I do. What about you? You got a girl at home?”
“Not me. I’m loving the bachelor life right now.”
“Doesn’t it get tiring being with so many different women all the time?” I ask with genuine curiosity.
Most of the guys on the team are either married or are like Bentley and accept the female attention that comes with the job with open arms. Either way, it’s never bothered me what they choose to do. Not as long as they still show up at the rink every day with a clear head and a hunger to win.
He shrugs. “Not really. Sometimes, I guess. But I’m having too much fun to really care. I’ll know when the girl comes around, right?”
“Yeah, you’ll know. When she’s the one, the world shifts and becomes brighter. It’s like peeling away a film that’s been over your eyes for your entire life. Suddenly, everything is so much clearer.”
“I can’t fucking wait for that.”
I rub my palm over my chest and stare out the small window at the black sky. “When you meet her, don’t let her go. Keep her forever. Put her at the centre of your universe, and do everything you can to keep her there because I can promise you that you’ll hate yourself if you lose her.”
“Find the girl and keep the girl. Got it.”
I shake my head, my lips tugging up at the corners. “Exactly.”
“You should start a love blog or something. I think a lot of guys would take notes.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”
“Nah, I’m serious. I respect you for being so down for one girl. I guess it makes sense now why I’ve never really seen you with anyone else. Rory was the only girl you’ve dated, and that wasn’t anything special. No offense.”
I stifle a laugh. “None taken. I know what you mean.”
“But hey, like you said. When you know, you know. I expect to be invited to the wedding.”
I don’t bother telling him to back up because there’s no doubt in my mind I’m going to marry this girl.
“Bring a good plus one, yeah?”
He grins. “Only the best for you, baby.”