Page 23 of Hot Shot
I pull on my clothes, trying to ignore the voice in my head. There’s not a whole lot else I can do now. It’s all up to Madison. If she changes her mind, which I really hope she does, I’d happily spend time with her. I wasn’t lying when I told her that I’d be happy with being friends. I don’t have a lot of them. Being a professional hockey player makes it tough to make real friends.
Do I want to get to know her better and date her? Of course I do.
As I’m gathering my bag ready to head out to my truck, my phone dings, and my heart skips a beat. Maybe she changed her mind.
Elias:Hey. Can we talk? I feel like we need to clear the air.
I shake my head and lock my phone without responding. When is he going to get the hint? I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to have anything to do with him.
We may be half brothers but that doesn’t mean we need to have a relationship. We haven’t spoken in almost fifteen years, why start now?
Chapter ten
Madison
“What’sgoingon,dearie?”Judy breaks the silence that has encompassed most of our Sunday night dinner.
“Nothing. Tired,” I mumble, fiddling with my napkin.
“Bullshit, Madison. Try again. You’ve been quiet and mopey all week.”
“It’s been a long week,” I answer, dropping my hands into my lap, picking at the hem of my shirt.
“Madison.” Judy fixes me with a stare, crossing her arms.
“Fine.” I reach for my wineglass and taking a long sip before saying, “I went out with Hunter earlier this week.”
“Did it not go well? I thought you were excited to go out with him. Last Sunday you were walking on sunshine.” She gestures around the kitchen as if to remind me how excited I was.
I suck in a breath. I know I was. I was happy for the first time in a long time. I’d been excited to spend time with Hunter in person.
“He-he told me what he does for a living.”
“It’s a deal breaker? Is he a drug dealer? Work at a strip joint? Although that could make for good times in the bedroom.” Judy wiggles her eyebrows at me.
“No. He plays professional hockey. I don’t want to be a distraction.” I stare down at my half-eaten dinner.
“And?”
“He plays for the Storm. I can’t date him, Aunt Judy. You know that.”
“Have you spoken to your father?”
“No, why would I do that?” I grab my wineglass and take a healthy sip.
“I don’t think your hang-up with your young man is only about what happened with you and EJ.”
“It is.” I set my now-empty wineglass down.
“Madison Mae, seriously? I’m not an idiot. What team did you say he plays for?”
I swallow, my mouth suddenly feeling dry. “The Orlando Storm.”
“Who’s their head coach?”
“I-I,” I stutter. She’s got me there. My father, Jake Weaver, is their head coach.
“Are you really worried about that or is it that he’s one of your father’s players?”
