Page 70 of He Has Charm (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Maybe I should walk home by myself. Better yet, I’ll call Shelly and go to her house. He doesn’t really need a handler any more in spite of the contract. Its like Delaney predicted, scoring a hat trick is like a vaccine protecting him from bad viral social media. I text Maddox with my plan and don’t wait for an answer because I’m a chickenshit and suddenly very unsure of what the hell I’m doing with Maddox Knight.
Or whether there really is any future for us after the season.
* * *
We got prime seats for the game, courtesy of Maddox. I’d asked Delaney, but he came through with tickets immediately and without me asking, sending my roller coaster emotions on another confusing ride. Maybe I need to be more like him, living in the present and not living for tomorrow’s prize, not rushing through life like I’m in a race to get somewhere in ten or twenty years.
“I can’t believe we’re so close to the boards. This is so rad,” Charlie says. “The only thing better than this would be me playing on the ice with the team.” I laugh, knowing exactly how he feels.
“It’s very exciting,” Mom says, grabbing my hand. “Your Maddox is quite the looker up close. Those TV shots don’t do him justice. Those eyes, my lord.” I laugh and feel the excitement tighten my chest.
“He’s notmyMaddox.” I wish he were, so much.
He’s skating fast and I’m convinced his game is better, but he doesn’t score or assist and I feel guilty. Maybe I should just give in and have sex—I mean, oh hell, I don’t know what I mean. Would that really solve anything? Maybe the immediate problem. It would be living in the moment.
It would make me feel terrible the next day, like I’m buying into his idea that he’s good for only one thing, or that I’m good for only one thing. Shit. I have no idea what the right or wrong thing to do is or what to do with my feelings for him.
Except to convince him my feelings are real and they’re permanent. And that is so crazy scary.
We make our way to the corridor outside the locker room where press, Brawlers officials, and some friends and family mill around waiting for the players.
“He’s so fast it was cool to watch him play,” Charlie says. “But I was hoping to see him score.” He shrugs. “Guess he can’t score a goal in every game.”
“Right. Do me a favor and don’t say anything about his lack of scoring when you meet him.”
“I’m not an idiot,” Charlie grumbles. I ruffle his hair, but I have to reach up to do it.
“When did you get so grown up?” He rolls his eyes. And then his eyes pop and he grins with excitement. I follow his gaze and there he is, Maddox in all his hunky glory. The massive wave of need rolls through my belly, as always when I see him. His hair is wavy and still wet, reminding me of the shower and sending another ripple of totally inappropriate excitement through me. He’s wearing his leather jacket over a black sweater and black jeans, outlining every powerful muscle of his chest and thighs. Mom elbows me and I shut my mouth, hoping I didn’t drool or look as smitten as I feel.
He walks over to us and I introduce my family.
“So privileged to meet you, Mrs. St. John. You have quite a daughter there. The best of the best.” I blush and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him more gracious, or more sincere. At least I hope he is, but I don’t exactly trust my instincts about him these days.
“And you,” he says to Charlie. “I hear you’re a hockey player. Following in your sister’s skates?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m hoping to get a scholarship to UNH, but it’s a long shot.” Maddox nods.
“I have a feeling you might catch their notice,” he says and I recognize that calculating look. My heart thuds like crazy and I wonder if he’s planning to call someone at UNH for Charlie. If he does, what does that mean except that he’s a beautiful man capable of big acts of kindness? Would it mean he has those same feelings for me that I have for him?
Or would he be doing Charlie and me a favor out of guilt? God, this is so messed up. But it was never simple from the start. We were never supposed to be more than professional colleagues. That’s it. Anything else was bound to be trouble. Reality slaps me hard and the possibility that I’ll be ot of a job with a black mark on my reputation leaves a print on my conscience. The family still has debts. We still need to find a way for Charlie to go to college. Am I being too selfish to put my wants and needs above my family’s? Especially for a man who has told me no, the same man who’s the source of all the trouble?.
And that’s exactly what we have. Or at least exactly what I have. Maddox must feel the trouble too or he wouldn’t be in this slump.
Maddox drives us back to the townhouse in a rented SUV because he sold his sports car and is trying out different models before he buys one. We parade in through the back door and take off our coats, hanging them on the hooks.
“This kitchen is gorgeous,” Mom says, looking around like she’s in Disneyworld for the first time.
“Isn’t it? Did Harper tell you we’re taking cooking lessons? We have a chef coming in for private lessons and we’re doing pretty well.”
“We’ve only had one lesson so far,” I snort. “It’s too soon to tell how well I’m doing, but Maddox is a natural. Like he’s been cooking on stage all his life.”
“That’s how me and my dad did it. We’d cook while the family watched. It feels kind of cool, like I’m honoring him when I learn to cook something new, the way he was always teaching me.”
“Are you cooking tonight?” Mom’s excitement lights up.
“No,” I say. “No time with the crazy schedule.” I don’t mention the uneasy state of our relationship being the main reason we haven’t scheduled another cooking lesson or spent any time in the kitchen together, but I glance at Maddox and see the wistful shadow in his gorgeous eyes. “I ordered food. It should be delivered any minute. It’s from the Walnut Grill.”
“Sounds interesting,” Mom says.
