18. Maddox

Chapter 18

Maddox

Walking away from Bristol was one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do, but it was what she needed. If I was going to prove I was nothing like her dipshit ex, I had to put her first.

She was struggling. Not just from what he had put her through for years, but from the other night when he'd tried to force her to agree to another night. He was selfish, and it was imperative that she see that I was nothing like him.

Dressing in front of her as she stared at me in disbelief while I laid all my cards on the table, I could see that she felt unwanted. But nothing could be further from the truth. I wanted her so badly that I was willing to step back and let her sort out her emotional baggage. Sure, it could backfire and she might write me off for good, but I was willing to take that risk.

In the days following our late-night encounter at her place, she'd slipped back into her professional role, as did I. She asked her questions, and I answered. However, I did notice the tiny hint of animosity she held for me was notably absent.

That had to be a good sign, right ?

Before, there was always a slight edge of irritation when she spoke, like she was annoyed that interacting with me was a necessary evil to do her job. Now, she was more neutral. I could spend hours overanalyzing what that meant, but I would likely drive myself insane.

So, instead, I focused on work.

We were heading out West to play the California teams, and I needed the Speed to be ready. That meant my time at the rink was used to prepare the team, and at home, I was immersed in film study until my eyes grew tired from staring at a screen for hours on end.

It would take some getting used to the fact that my nights were no longer my own in this new role. More hours working for less pay, but I wasn't the talent. I was only guiding and preparing them.

Now, the only thing holding me back was my mind. It was difficult for my brain to grasp that I would never get another chance to gear up and play at the highest level. Even when I instructed my players during a game, coaching them how to respond based on the situation they faced, there was a nagging voice in the back of my head saying: I could have done it better. I would have reacted quicker.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't let go of unfinished business. I wasn't sure enough time would ever pass to ease that ache.

As promised for their victory over the Comets, I bought the first round in the hotel bar once we landed in San Francisco.

It was possible that I had a hard time letting go of my career because I still felt like one of the boys. I stayed away from Pipes, but on the road, I went to team dinners when invited and grabbed drinks at the bar with my players during hotel stays.

Before my taking over at the helm of the Speed, a clear line had been drawn between the staff and players. I could honestly say that I'd never hung out with a coach over the course of my career. But Jared kept harping that they chose me because I was close to the players. So I wouldn't let doubts nag at me that I was doing something I shouldn't. If anything, it tricked my mind into forgetting the tragic events that had forced my retirement for a few hours.

Jenner and I were perched at a high-top table near the back, placing bets on which players would end up leaving with one of the plethora of bunnies who had recently arrived, looking for a night of no-strings sex as we passed through town.

This might be a new vantage point for me, but it wasn't for my best friend.

Jenner had come into the league attached to his then-girlfriend, Evie, who now was his ex-wife. So he'd always been the quiet observer while the rest of us single guys picked up chicks. I had to say, it was interesting watching the guys work. Some were smooth—their flirt game was strong. Others made sure to buy a prospective bed partner a few drinks, not bothering with more than a flash of a credit card and mention that they were professional hockey players.

It really made me wonder whether I'd looked as ridiculous as they did. And was the sex really that good that women didn't care about how shallow it made them seem?

There was no connection, no substance, just a string of meaningless hookups.

How had it taken me this long to realize that ?

While I was lost in thought as I sipped my beer, my phone buzzed in my pocket. On autopilot, I pulled it out, bringing it into my field of vision. I frowned when I saw a text message from an unknown number.

Swiping a finger across the screen, I unlocked my phone.

Unknown Number: Your face and dick are both so pretty that I don't know which one I want to ride first.

Beer sprayed from my mouth as I read the filthy text.

"What the hell?" Jenner yelled, wiping at the droplets of spit and beer that had landed on him.

"Sorry," I muttered, clutching the phone to my chest to hide the screen.

He eyed my protective hold on my cell. "Care to share with the class, Mr. Sterling?" There was a teasing lilt to his voice.

Eyes wide, I shook my head. "Nope."

A corner of Jenner's lips turned up. "Oh, come on. It's gotta be something good to get such a reaction out of you." He held his hand palm up in front of him, wiggling his fingers in a gimme motion.

With no name attached to the text, what did I have to lose? I sighed, handing over my phone.

Jenner's eyes lit up from more than the glow of the phone screen. "Whoa, baby. Coach is getting laid tonight!"

I scoffed. "Yeah, right. I don't even know who sent it."

"Whoever it is, they know you. How else would they get your phone number?"

He was right; most of us had unlisted numbers and also took the extra precautionary step of having our service providers block our number on caller IDs. When we called someone who didn't have our number saved, it read as No Caller ID. It was a tiny layer of protection in keeping our personal lives private.

"Think it's some bunny in San Fran? One that wants an encore?" Jenner asked, returning my phone.

Just then, we heard the sound of female voices snickering nearby. My head snapped up, searching the small bar for the source. It didn't take long to lock eyes with Bristol, seated near Alyssa, on the other side of the room. When I raised an eyebrow, shaking my phone, she folded her lips inward, trying her hardest not to smile.

"I think I know who it is," I mused.

Jenner followed my line of sight and groaned. "Is that seriously still going on?"

I shrugged. "Depends on your definition of ‘going on.' As you can see, I don't even have her phone number."

He let out a heavy exhale. "Really thought you'd learned your lesson after the fucking bar fight."

"It's not what you think," I argued.

"Sure it's not." Jenner rolled his eyes. "The sexting is pretty telling."

"I care about her, okay?" I needed my best friend to understand. "And if you need more proof, I went over to her place a few nights ago to check on her after what happened at Pipes. We ended up naked, but I walked away. I want more than a few meaningless fucks. There's something between us, a pull I can't explain. But she's still messed up from Nixon. So, I told her to take her time and sort it out. That I'll wait until she's ready."

Jenner snorted. "Looks like she got over it pretty fast. A few days?"

"She's young and headstrong," I explained. "And beyond gorgeous. Having a guy stop right before the point of no return was probably a blow to her ego. But it had to be done. She can send all the naughty texts she wants. I know she's not ready yet. "

Impressed, he sat back in his chair. "Damn, look at you all grown up. Turning down guaranteed sex? That's not the Maddox I know."

"You know how it is. Sometimes, the right girl can knock you right on your ass."

A shadow passed over his brown eyes before they dropped to look at his hands, where he absentmindedly rubbed a thumb over his left ring finger. "Yeah, I do know."

Way to go, Maddox, making the poor guy think about his wife and how much he misses her.

"That doesn't mean we can't have a little fun with her, though," I offered, trying to shift the mood back to a more playful one.

Jenner grabbed his beer and took a swig before nodding. "What did you have in mind?"

I smirked. "She's not the only one who can send dirty texts." My fingers were poised over my phone screen, but I was drawing a blank. "What should I say?"

His eyes widened, and he shook his head. "Don't look at me! How would I know?"

"I just assumed you had experience."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Coach, but video calls are where it's at."

I cringed. "Yeah, didn't need that mental image."

Jenner snapped his fingers. "Oh! You know who would be good at this?"

"Who?"

"Braxton!" he declared.

I was ready to tell him that was a terrible idea, considering Braxton was not a fan of Bristol and me being together, when the man himself spoke from behind us. "You two talking about me?"

Fuck me. This wasn't going to end well. I ran my hands through my hair, mentally preparing for the backlash .

Jenner was oblivious to my distress, turning in his seat to face Braxton. "Yeah, we need help, seeing as you're going to marry someone who writes sexy lines for a living."

Braxton smirked. "If she says yes."

"She's going to say yes," I grumbled.

"Anyway." Jenner waved a hand. "Our coach here needs help coming up with a sexy comeback to a text he just received."

One of Braxton's dark eyebrows rose. "Okay . . . What are we dealing with here?"

I held my phone in a death grip, but Jenner pried my fingers loose, chiding, "Come on, don't be shy."

Glaring at my best friend, I threatened, "Just remember who's in charge tomorrow on the ice."

Freeing my phone, he replied, "Punish me all you want. We're doing this."

Jenner handed Braxton the phone, letting him read the message. He stared at the phone far too long for such a short text, and I began to sweat. The last thing I needed was for him to make a scene in the crowded bar.

Brows furrowed, he mused, "I've seen this before."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

Braxton placed the phone on the table, pointing at the screen. "These words. There's something familiar about them."

Jenner and I stared at him expectantly, until finally, he gasped.

"What is it?"

With his whiskey-colored eyes trained on me, the lids narrowed dangerously. "Dakota wrote this."

I held my hands up in a gesture of surrender, shaking my head. "Look, man. I want nothing to do with Dakota, I swear. "

Jenner grabbed the phone, reading over the words again. "Oh shit, he's right!"

Did he seriously just throw me under the bus? I knew Bristol had sent the text, not Dakota. A misunderstanding of this level would be a disaster. A coach accused of fucking around with his players' girls? If I was looking for a way to fuck up my new career, that was a surefire way to do it.

One glance at my look of sheer terror, and Jenner's head dropped back as he laughed. When he recovered, he pointed in my direction. "You should see your face." My chest rumbled in annoyance. "No one is saying you're messing around with Dakota. When Braxton says she wrote this, she did—in one of her books."

Relief washed over me so forcefully that the edges of my vision darkened. "Jesus. Thanks for the heart attack, guys." I punched Jenner's arm. "And since when have you been reading romance novels?"

His brown eyes sparkled mischievously. "What can I say? The girl can write some good porn."

Braxton snatched my phone from Jenner, tapping on the screen. "Fuck, Maddox."

"What?" I tried to play innocent.

"The Hartford exchange on the number is hard to miss. What the hell happened? Because the last time I checked, Bristol was not at all interested in you, and now she's sending you dirty messages, which I can only assume are meant to get you into bed."

"Would it help if I said I wasn't going to give her what she wants tonight?" I asked hopefully.

"No, because that girl will get what she wants. If not tonight, another one. And because I know you're interested, it's only a matter of time." He sighed. "I get it. She's young and cute, but if you hurt her, I'll be forced to take out your good knee. "

Jenner leaned over to stage-whisper, "I think he's serious."

"Fuck off." I nudged his shoulder, forcing him back into his seat.

Braxton ran a hand through his hair. "She's been through a lot." I opened my mouth to tell him I knew that already, but he continued before I could. "I think it bears mentioning that I lived with Levi Nixon." Just hearing that fucker's name had my fists clenched beneath the high-top table. "The way he talked about her behind her back paled in comparison to how he treated her."

Through gritted teeth, I growled, "Should have killed him when I had the chance."

"And don't think I'm not grateful for you looking out for her the other night. But you have to remember that Bristol is important to me too. Without her, I wouldn't have landed the love of my life. So, I have a soft spot for her. I always will. She's my future wife's best friend, and she came out to Indy all alone. I've taken it as my responsibility to look out for her."

"I'm not looking to hurt her, Braxton," I vowed.

Jenner chimed in. "Yeah, he looooooves her."

"Shut the fuck up!" I whipped around to yell at him, drawing the attention of a few patrons gathered near us.

He shrugged. "Just stating facts. Not my fault you can't own up."

Braxton gripped my shoulder, turning me to face him. "Seriously?"

I blew out a breath. "I have feelings for her. I wouldn't go so far as to categorize them as love."

"Not yet," Jenner taunted from behind. "But I've seen this show before."

I bit back a retort asking how well that had worked out for him, knowing it wasn't his fault his marriage had fallen apart .

Without asking, Braxton grabbed my beer and drained it. Slamming the empty glass onto the table, he huffed out, "I'm gonna need something stronger."

"You and me both," I muttered.

Holding up a hand, I signaled a passing waitress, ordering us a round of whiskeys. The only unfortunate side effect was I couldn't drink the damn liquor without getting hard at the memory of drinking it with Bristol. If we were going down this sexting path, I was going to end up with a raging boner anyway, so what did it matter?

Once the lowball glasses containing two fingers of whiskey each were placed before us, I asked, "Okay, so what should I message back?"

Braxton sipped his drink. "How about we leave me out of this?"

Jenner scoffed. "Whose team are you on?"

A pained groan sounded loudly from our young friend. "Fuck me. I thought I left all that behind in Hartford."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

He dropped his head, explaining, "The girls versus guys teams. It was kinda their thing."

"Whose thing?"

"The Comets, or more accurately, Jaxon and Natalie's core group. Fair warning: the girls always win. Hannah's mildly terrifying on her best day, but give her an objective? She's like a dog with a bone; she won't rest until she gets what she wants." He gave me a smirk. "You know about that, don't you, Maddox? Heard you two had quite the run-in a few years back."

A shudder racked my body. "Don't remind me. Dodged a bullet on that one."

He chuckled. "Yeah, well. There's a mostly sisterless pack of women in Connecticut who always stick together. And if this evolves into something more than a few text messages, I'd lay good odds that they get involved here too. Dakota's one of them, and Bristol is an extension of her."

"Great, so I'm not just messing around with one girl but four?"

Braxton snorted. "Try seven. You're forgetting about Benji's partner and Natalie's sisters-in-law. Good luck to you, man, because you're gonna need it." He clapped me on the shoulder before walking away with his drink.

Jenner stared at Braxton's retreating form. "So, I guess that's a no to helping?" He shrugged, turning back to our target across the room. "Eh, we don't need him. We've got this in the bag."

"Says the man who didn't know what to say the last time I asked him." I took a sip of whiskey, letting it burn a path down my throat.

"Okay. I got this." I picked up my phone and typed out a reply.

Baby, I can't wait to make you squirt again. My cock is dying to play in the sprinkler.

It wasn't long before a strangled shriek sounded from across the room, and I leaned back, taking in the view of a red-faced Bristol and Alyssa covering her mouth with both hands as her wide eyes stared in my direction. The second I raised my glass in a cheers gesture, she averted her gaze, and a flush crept up her neck.

Curious beside me, Jenner asked, "What in the world did you say to her?"

I flashed him a peek at my screen, and he choked on his own spit. Amused, I patted his back as coughs rattled his chest.

"Holy shit. Did you actually make her squirt?" His voice was rough from the coughing fit.

Sipping my whiskey, I murmured around the rim of the glass, " What do you think?"

Jenner cleared his throat a few more times. "Fucking legend."

My phone vibrated, and I glanced down to read her reply.

Bristol: Next time I suck your dick, I'm putting your legs on my shoulders.

I'll take it as my responsibility to practice safe sex. I'm gonna tie you to the bed so you won't fall off.

Bristol: When you're around, I don't wanna feel butterflies flapping in my stomach . I wanna feel your cock.

Your pussy is my favorite midnight snack. The cravings are so intense I have the phantom taste of you on my tongue.

Bristol: I wanna be choked and pounded into the mattress while you spank my ass raw as you call me your good little girl.

That last text from Bristol had me standing so abruptly that my chair clattered to the ground. My cock was throbbing behind the fly of my jeans, and my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. Raking a hand down my face, I managed to mouth, Well played , to Bristol across the room. Seeing her triumphant smile was worth it.

I turned to leave as Jenner said to my back, "Where are you going?"

"Gotta take a cold shower. See you tomorrow, buddy."

I wasn't sure a cold shower would be enough to tame the beast within tonight. She was testing my restraint, but I reminded myself it was mind over matter.

I could keep my hands off her long enough for her to come to terms with her past.

Or at least, I hoped.