7. Bristol

Chapter 7

Bristol

The rest of the morning and early afternoon were spent interfacing with the players. There were tons of them at training camp as every man on a contract with the Speed was invited, including those who would spend most of the year with their minor league affiliate, the Cincinnati Crawlers.

Most players knew where they would be headed after camp. Some would be headed to Cincinnati after the first week as the roster narrowed before the start of the regular season. However, there were a few hopefuls who had a shot at making the Speed roster if they could prove themselves in the coming weeks.

We got a break for lunch, and I asked Alyssa if she could point me toward the executive offices.

She twisted her lips. We'd only met this morning, but she could tell that I was off after the press conference.

"Let it go, Bristol. It wasn't personal."

I shook my head. "You can either help me, or I can ask Braxton. But I'd rather not have him digging into my motives. "

Alyssa sighed. "What are you hoping to accomplish by going up there? Not to mention that level doesn't have press access. You get caught, and you're toast. Game over."

"This is just something I have to do. Trust me." I pleaded with her with my eyes, hoping she could see that I wouldn't be deterred.

"Fine," she huffed. "Only certain elevator banks go to that floor, and usually, they require badge access. You might catch a lucky break that they're disabled today with only internal staff and press in the building, but if not, you'll have to forget it."

I let that information settle for a minute before I asked, "Do players have access?"

The way her eyes cut to the side told me they did. If I couldn't get up there myself, I would be forced to beg Braxton for help. I wasn't sure how I would get around answering his questions about why I needed to get up there. But I was quick on my feet. I would figure it out.

"Please don't get caught." Alyssa sighed. "It's lonely being the only woman on the press team. I could really use a friend."

I gave her a small smile. "I'll be fine." Well, I would be, so long as I could get Maddox alone in a room and convince him to pretend like we'd never met. That was the only way this would work, allowing me to keep my job.

She lifted a finger, pointing down the corridor behind me. "Take a left after the home locker room. The elevators beside the training room are the ones you need. Fifth floor."

The weight that had settled over my chest since I recognized Maddox in the press room eased just a fraction. "Thank you."

Alyssa looked skyward. "Just hope I don't come to regret it."

Leaning in, I gave her a quick hug before turning in the direction she indicated. I peeked over my shoulder to ensure no one noticed I was leaving the group. So far, so good.

Thankfully, I didn't cross paths with a single soul, and the elevators were indeed unlocked. Pressing the button to take me to the fifth floor, I leaned against the brushed nickel wall as it began its ascent. When I reached my destination, a soft ding sounded, and the doors slid open to reveal a whole row of offices.

Stepping lightly, I passed each one, noting most doors were closed, which worked to my advantage in avoiding discovery. The fourth door held a nameplate with Maddox's name. The door was cracked open, and I held my fist up, pausing before bringing it down on the wood and announcing my arrival. A small part of me hoped he wasn't inside—the cowardly part that wasn't ready to own up to last night's actions—but I forced myself to knock anyway.

"Come in," that silky-smooth voice called from the other side.

Exhaling deeply, I pushed inside to the view of Maddox from behind as he stood, staring out a pane-glass wall overlooking the main rink of Speed Arena below. A practice rink was settled beneath, keeping all activities and offices here instead of in another location.

His head turned enough to catch me in his periphery, and he hummed before returning his gaze to the empty arena.

Latching the door behind me, I approached where he stood, mindful to keep my body on the opposite side of his desk.

"What can I do for you, Miss Cooper?" The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees at his icy tone.

"I thought we should talk about how last night comes into play with our professional relationship."

He spun around so fast that I took a step back in surprise. "And what exactly is our professional relationship, Miss Cooper? "

Clasping my hands together in front of my hips, I said, "The one where I'm a member of the press covering the Speed, and you're their head coach."

Maddox reached a hand up to run it through his hair, but when he encountered the gel that held it in place, he dropped it, clenching the fist by his side. He scoffed. "Communications."

He was referring to my vague answer from last night when he'd asked about my profession.

Before I could say anything, he asked, "Is that why you didn't want to share names?"

His distrust in me was palpable, but I needed to set a few things straight.

"No." I shook my head. "This job is important to me. I would never have gone out of my way to jeopardize it before it even began."

Carefully, he assessed me. First, he searched my eyes for any hint that I might be lying. Then, he took his time scanning my form from head to toe, eyes lighting with that same fire they'd held last night. Finally, those blazing green gems returned to my face, and I could feel the heat rising. He might be all wrong for me—sleeping with him could very well mean career suicide—but there was no denying I was attracted to him, even now.

With an eyebrow raised, Maddox said, "You seriously expect me to believe you had no idea who I was last night?"

His words implied that I was just another bimbo offered a sports job to hit a quota, and it cut deep to my core. It was precisely why I had turned down offers in broadcast journalism. Being behind a computer offered less bias and certainly less leering.

So, feeling backed into a corner, I lashed out. "Look, you watched me down at least two whiskeys last night before I took you home."

He bristled. "Are you accusing me of taking advantage of you? "

"No. But I am saying I was feeling good in the moment, and the lights were dimmed. And there's a possibility that my mind didn't want to recognize you because I can assure you that I am good at my job and I do know this sport inside and out, which is why I came up here to talk to you. I need to make sure that we're on the same page."

"And what page is that, Miss Cooper?"

I sighed. "It's Bristol, please. Don't think I haven't noticed you call the other reporters by their first names." When he didn't offer to correct how he addressed me, I answered his question. "We need to forget that last night ever happened. If anyone finds out. . . Let's just say you'll be touted as a hero who banged the hot young redhead, and I'll be dragged through the mud as the reporter who sleeps around to get ahead. It won't matter that we hooked up before the season began. My career will be ruined. I need this fresh start." I swallowed and blinked back the tears, my voice weakening as I said one final word, "Please."

Maddox dragged a hand down his face, rubbing along his jaw. He'd looked sexy with a beard last night, but damn if he wasn't hotter than hell clean-shaven. When he simply stared at me, l panicked that he wouldn't grant my request. That I was sunk, and I'd blown up my life twice in a matter of months.

Turning on my heel, I bolted for the door.

As a single tear escaped, I heard him call out my name for the first time. "Bristol!"

And I promptly began to sob as I ran as fast and as far as my legs would carry me.

Pushing through the door to the ladies' room I barely saw through watery eyes, I locked the main door behind me as soon as I confirmed I was alone inside. Collapsing against the closest wall, I slid to the floor, not caring that it was likely covered in countless germs.

Digging my phone out of my purse, I dialed the only person I could after this nightmare of a morning.

As the receiver rang in my ear, I chanted under my breath, "Pick up. Pick up. Pick up."

The line connected, and Dakota's voice teased, "What's wrong, sweetie? Forget to take your lunch on the first day? Mom's kinda busy, but if you ask nicely, I can drop it off."

The reminder that my first day could very well be my last had me bursting into loud, messy tears all over again.

"Bristol? What's wrong?" Concern laced Dakota's words.

Sniffling, I calmed down enough to force out through hiccups, "I really messed up this time."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Finally, my best friend said, "Oh God. Bristol, honey, I say this with all the love in the world, but please tell me you're not pregnant."

"No!" I screamed, wincing at the volume with the headache threatening behind my eyes.

Leave it to Dakota to point out the only silver lining in this whole mess. It could always be worse. If, at some point in the last three years, Nix had knocked me up, I would've been done for. He wouldn't have stepped up. No, he'd have tried to make the whole thing disappear. I would have been forced to choose between him and a piece of myself. What's worse was that in the frame of mind I'd been in back then, I might have chosen him. I shuddered at the thought.

I had been confident that getting away from him would allow me to regain my strength, but here I was again, my fate resting in the hands of a man.

Same Bristol, different day.

Jesus, I was getting whiplash with how quickly my life had turned on a dime.

Last night had been so incredible. I'd woken with a smile on my face, even as Maddox— fuck, I still can't believe I didn't recognize him —was getting dressed, preparing to leave me. Now, I was facing career suicide. I couldn't catch a break.

But was I really surprised? I'd let my pussy call the shots last night, and she hadn't gotten the memo that we were off hockey boys. Sure, Maddox wasn't technically a player anymore, but it wasn't like there was a switch that flipped off once his career ended—he was just as smooth as the rest, knowing how to play a woman. And God, how he'd played my body.

I guess if I were going down, it would be with one hell of a bang.

"Bristol, tell me what happened." Dakota's voice in my ear reminded me of where I was and why I'd called.

Squeezing my eyes shut, even though she couldn't see me, I said the words out loud. "I slept with Maddox Sterling last night."

"WHAT?!" The screech on the other end of the line had me hanging my head in shame.

"I know." I groaned. "It's so bad."

The way she was huffing, I could tell she was trying to formulate words. Finally, she asked, "How did this happen? And what made you think it was a good idea? "

I felt the need to defend myself. "I didn't know it was him!"

Dakota snorted. "Yeah, okay."

"Seriously. I really didn't."

"How is that even possible?" Doubt dripped from every word.

"Look." I sighed. "After you guys left me at Pipes, I got up on stage." Dakota snickered, but I pressed on. "A tall, dark, handsome stranger with extremely striking green eyes took a seat right up front. I will be the first to admit to wearing whiskey goggles. After I finished up, we got to talking—well, it was more like flirting with the intention of fucking, but who's splitting hairs. I was the one who insisted on no names before taking him home. I have to believe that if I heard a name as unique as Maddox, I would have pieced it together and walked away. But I was too fucking desperate to cleanse the memory of Nix's hands on my body."

"I have to say I'm impressed he was still interested after hearing you sing." I could tell she was trying to hold back laughter.

"I hate you." She knew I didn't mean it.

"At least tell me it was worth it."

I practically whimpered against the memory of his hands on my body, the pleasure he commanded so effortlessly. "Best sex I've ever had."

"Book-worthy material?" she challenged.

I grinned; my girl was never not working. "What's the ignition temp on paper again? Whatever it is, it was hotter than that. And I have to admit, I thought you were full of shit all these years, writing hung heroes."

Dakota sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh my God. Is Maddox—"

"I kid you not; it was like staring down the business end of a traffic cone."

"Really," she said on a breathy exhale. "Congrats?"

"Oh, and did I mention my ass is so sore I can barely sit today?"

"Ummmm, that could be interpreted in multiple ways. Care to elaborate? Because my mind went to the far dirtier option automatically. "

Leave it to my bestie to have her mind in the gutter. I mean, I couldn't blame her; the intricacies of sex were how she made a living.

"My ass is black and blue. The man is large everywhere, and that extends to his hands," I explained.

"He hit you?" Her voice rose in pitch. "And not like a playful swat, but enough to cover you in bruises?"

I stopped her before she went off the deep end. "It was consensual, I promise. Poor guy thought I was gonna kick him out after he did it the first time. But damn, the expression on his face when I begged him to do it again? That'll be spank bank material for years to come."

"Only you," she muttered. "So, what's the plan?"

"Well, currently, I'm sitting on a bathroom floor on the executive level of the arena after running from his office crying."

"It's probably best that we circle back to that. Why were you crying?"

"Because he's a jerk." I huffed, pouting like a toddler.

"Hmm. Doesn't sound like the Maddox I know."

"Yeah, well. I'm sure you're not privy to the womanizing asshole side. First, he dressed me down in front of the entire press pack after I asked my first question. Then, I went up to his office to try and figure out a way we could maybe work together, and he practically accused me of purposely hiding my identity last night. When I pleaded that I had no idea who he was at the time, he wrote me off as another airhead woman sports reporter."

"That's not true." Dakota's soft voice tried to soothe me.

"I know that." I took a deep breath in through my nose before releasing it. "And I told him as much. But when I begged him to keep what happened between us quiet because of how badly I need this fresh start, he only stared at me. I know he's going to blow this for me. He's pissed, thinking I used him to get ahead, and it's all over. From what I understand, he has a complicated relationship with the media, and I might be the straw that broke the camel's back."

Dakota hummed. "Want me to have Braxton talk to him? He can vouch for you. Try to get Maddox to understand your situation."

"You can't tell anyone! Especially not Braxton."

"Braxton!" she yelled before grumbling, "Oh, I'm going to kill him."

She'd lost me. "What are you talking about?"

"Remember last night when you kept saying you didn't want him to invite any players?"

"Yeah . . ." Where was she going with this?

"And he kept protesting that he hadn't invited any players . . ."

It struck me like a bolt of lightning, and I gasped. "He didn't."

Dakota groaned. "He so did. But we thought Maddox was a no-show. He never comes out anymore."

"A little warning would have been nice," I grumbled.

"Yeah, funny thing about hindsight. Didn't really think that when we left, he was gonna show up, and you would take him home for a no-names one-night stand."

"Fuck my life," I groaned.

"Did it at least cleanse all the bad Nix juju from your aura?" she asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, only to be replaced by that of Maddox Sterling."

"Well, if you want my opinion—"

"I don't." I cut her off.

She continued anyway. "Maddox is a hell of an upgrade. That filled-out older man look? Don't tell Braxton, but I get a little excited thinking about how one day he's going to work his way into the body his brother has in his thirties."

That brought a smile to my lips. The first since before Maddox walked into that press room. "Hey! Jaxon was my crush first! "

"You can keep him," she teased. "I've got the younger model."

That, she did. Those brothers could very well be twins.

"So, what are you gonna do?" Dakota brought us back to the more pressing issue of my career imploding.

"I don't know. It's out of my hands. My pussy was in the driver's seat last night, and now I'm the one who will have to pay the price. She gets me in far more trouble than she's worth."

"Take a deep breath and channel your inner Hannah. She wouldn't let a man take her down, and the Bristol I know and love wouldn't either."

I laughed at the idea of Hannah and her take-no-prisoners approach. She was badass and didn't take shit from anyone. She practically owned Comets Arena and every person working within its walls. You never had to wonder where you stood with her because she would tell you straight up. The first time I met her, she told me I was wasting my time being with Nix to view him as my "hockey hunk training wheels." I had no idea at the time how right she was, too blinded by his charm and good looks. I wouldn't make that mistake again. The emotional cost was too high.

"You're right," I agreed with my best friend.

"You wanna come over tonight and drown your sorrows in a vat of ice cream?" she offered.

"Nah. As great as it sounds, I'll have to get my article submitted for publication—if I still have a job by the end of the day—and then I should really work on getting unpacked."

"You're going to stay even if this goes sideways?"

"I can't go back to Hartford," I whispered, and she understood why.

"Okay. Well, no matter what happens, I'm here for you. And I just so happen to have an extremely flexible job. So, whenever you need me, just call."

I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the academic advisor who'd unknowingly placed Dakota and me in the same creative writing class our freshman year at Connecticut Central. Without her in my life, I didn't know where I would be. We were the sister the other had never had.

"I love you, Dakota." I tried and failed to keep my emotions in check.

"Love you, too, Bristol. Everything's gonna be fine. I know it."

"Yeah." I swallowed against the lump forming in my throat. "And remember, not a word to Braxton."

"I promise," Dakota vowed through the phone.

"All right. Time to go see if my career can be salvaged."

"You've got this," came her words of unending encouragement.

"Talk to you soon."

"Bye, babe." Dakota hung up, and I forced myself to my feet.

Taking a peek at my reflection in the wall-length mirror above the row of sinks, I winced at how pink and blotchy my face had become from crying. I grabbed a paper towel and dampened it with cool water before dabbing it under my eyes, hoping to soothe the puffiness there. Once I was satisfied I could pass off any remaining redness under the guise of seasonal allergies, I straightened my clothes and unlocked the door.

The second I stepped across the threshold, I plowed directly into the broad chest of one Maddox Sterling.