Page 51 of Playing Dirty
I drag a hand down my face. Angela and Derek continue their debate over media strategies, and I look over at Margot. She's bent over her planner, scribbling something intently. The silence between us is starting to feel like a physical weight on my chest and I can't take another second of it.
I stand up abruptly. "Margot, can I talk to you for a minute? Privately?"
Margot's eyes shoot up, wide and startled. "Uh… yeah. Sure."
She rises and I steer her toward the tall windows at the far end of the lounge. It hasn’t even been two full days since mycareer imploded and we fucked against a wall. Between the media pressure, the guilt of letting the team down, and the relentless loop of her in my head, I'm losing my mind.
We stop by the glass, the runway stretching out toward the hills, and I lean in. "You haven't been responding to my texts."
"That's not entirely true," she says, her gaze fixed on a departing jet. "I confirmed all the travel logistics."
"You know those aren't the texts I'm talking about, Ace," I say. "I'm not trying to give you a hard time about it. I just don't want to fly five thousand miles pretending nothing happened."
"I don't want to pretend either." She lets out a slow breath. "Everything is just so messy that I've been avoiding it.Plusthere's your whole suspension. Even with my limited hockey knowledge, I gather it's a professional death sentence."
Understatement of the century.
"Aye," I say, looking away. "But like I told you, there's nothing but to grind through the mess. I'll just have to hope I can salvage my reputation with the squad and the fans when we get back."
I try not to dwell on the alternative. I never planned on being a lifer in the rink, one of those lads who collects concussions because they don't know how to walk away.
I'm twenty-seven, and the plan was always to hoist the Cup, put in a few more elite years, and then exit gracefully while my knees still worked to enjoy the spoils. I never pictured the curtain coming down this fast, or leaving behind such an ugly wreck of a legacy.
She looks up at me, her expression softening. "You're a good man and a good player, Cillian. They'll see that."
"Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence," I say. "But we still need to clear the air before we land in Dublin. Don't think I'm letting you change the subject."
She laughs. "It's all connected though isn’t it?"
"That's true," I nod. "I hate that I've let the team and the fans down, and that I maybe just torched my entire career. But Iwon't pretend I'm sorry I stepped in, because I'd do it again without a second's thought. The only part that actually eats at me is the thought that I made things harder for you. If any of it has hurt you, Ace, I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well." She tucks her hair behind her ear. "I really do hate the whole men-throwing-punches-to-defend-a-woman's-honor routine. But… Idoappreciate you having my back and stepping in for me. And it was kind of hot that you did, if I'm being honest."
I raise a brow. "Kind of hot, was it?"
"I think I made that pretty clear the other night." She smiles.
I draw in a breath, and it's now or never.
"I like you, Margot. A lot. I know I'm not usually the type to pursue anything beyond a night or two, and I don't even know exactly when it started, maybe even at that first launch party. But it's been there ever since. And I really want to fucking see you again.”
She stares at me, eyes wide, and the silence stretches for what feels like an eternity.
"Ace, you have to say something. You can tell me to go to hell, you can tell me you're not interested, but you've got to give me something here." I let out a low breath, running a hand through my hair again.
"I'm sorry, I just…" She closes her eyes for a second. "I wasn't expecting you to be so, I don't know, blunt or whatever. I don't think anyone's ever said something like that to me."
"But when I see something I want, I go for it. And I want you." I hold her gaze.
"Cillian," she says softly. "I'm not going to pretend I don't have feelings for you. But this is a complete media circus,andit’s a work trip for me with a huge amount of oversight. I think the most professional thing is to keep things strictly business on this trip. Let the dust settle, let the suspension play out. Then,when we're back in the States, we figure out what we want to do, and if we want to..."
"Date?" I ask, a slow grin tugging at the corner of my mouth.
"Gosh." She grins, looking a touch smug. "Showing your cards remarkably early, aren't you?"
"I'm finished playing games with you. You win."
She smiles and fiddles with the gold pendant at her throat. "There is still my 'no athletes' policy to contend with, which I know seems silly, but this is just… a lot. Idolike you, Cillian, but I think we should be professional and survive this trip. Then we can figure out all the dirty details."
