Chapter 12

twelve

ISLA

Of all the ways this day could have gone, I never would have guessed it would end with me sandwiched in a booth with Maddox Graves on my left, his teammate Griffin on my right, and two other giant hockey players named Sebastian and Logan around us. And I definitely wouldn't have thought Maddox would come to my rescue and save me from some creep who seems to know way too much about me after seeing my photo on my best friend's desk.

The world's gone topsy-turvy.

"So, Isla," Griffin says with a twinkle in his hazel eyes. That one's going to be trouble, I just know it. "Heard you had a lovely date with our friend Graves last week."

I arch one eyebrow. "Is that what he told you? Because the way I remember it, the loveliest part of my evening was going home."

All three of Maddox's teammates laugh loudly while he rubs at the back of his neck. "Yeah, I deserve that. I'm sorry. I really am. And I'll keep apologizing." He looks genuine, but I don't know what to believe right now or which way is up. I'm not even sure how I got here.

"I'm teasing. I forgive you. After all, you did just save me from having to find a way to ditch that creep." I take a sip of the beer I ordered after we all sat down at the corner booth. It's not as yummy as a mixed drink, but it's got a lower alcohol content, and I want to keep my wits about me. "Though I guess I should say I forgive you as long as you're not stalking me or something. You're not, are you?"

Griffin laughs again, but it's Logan that speaks up. "Nah, coming here tonight was my idea. Just a happy coincidence."

"Okay, then I forgive you." Grinning, I playfully elbow Maddox in his side. "So, you guys are all on the Rogues?"

They nod, and Maddox goes down the line, telling me how long they've been on the team and explaining what positions they play, even though he might as well be speaking in tongues. It's all gobbledygook to me.

"Your eyes just glazed over," Maddox teases.

"Yeah, sorry. None of that means anything to me."

Sebastian smirks, the corners of his lips tugging up just slightly. He seems to be the most serious one in the group. "Did you grow up around here?"

I nod. "Yep. Minneapolis born and raised."

"And you've never seen a hockey game? How is that even possible?" He sounds more curious than judgmental, so I answer him honestly.

"My dad's never really been a sports guy. He's an English Lit professor, so he'd rather spend his evenings reading than watching a game. My mom likes baseball, but not enough to sit around and watch it." It's not that I couldn't learn to enjoy hockey or any other sport, it's just that I was never exposed to it. And even though there are tons of badass female athletes, sports are still very much a testosterone-fest. I never found it all that appealing.

It probably didn't help that there were a few guys on our high school football team who harassed me endlessly. Their constant inquiries about whether the carpet matched the drapes , and the way they'd dry hump the air every time I walked past them kind of put me off of jocks.

"You should come to one of our matches when the season starts," Sebastian offers. "Even if you don't end up enjoying the game, the atmosphere is like nothing else. It's electric. We can get you seats in the family and friends box."

"Maybe," I say noncommittally. He chuckles, obviously catching the brushoff.

Griffin takes a swig of his beer, stretching his arm out behind my back on the top of the booth. "We'll convince you, eventually."

He says it like it's a foregone conclusion. Like we're friends now, and he's got no doubt in his mind I'll give in. It makes my heart feel funny. And when Maddox swats Griffin's arm away from my back, my ticker feels even funnier.

I don't know what to make of them. Of him. If I wasn't so painfully certain that Maddox Graves is not interested in me and I'm definitely not his type, I'd wonder if he's flirting. But the hug and the compliments and the arm around my waist were just part of his assist , as he'd called it. And this? Hanging out with him and his friends? That's just guilt for the way he treated me last weekend. Or maybe it's his way of continuing to help keep Blake away.

Whatever it is, I can't read anything into it.

Besides, I'm done with men, I remind myself. Especially rich, cocky ones. They're bad news, and the ambush by Blake only further confirmed it. I may enjoy this time with Maddox and his teammates, but I don't miss the way his friends scan every woman in the bar. I don't miss the flirtatious smiles they give to the more beautiful ones, or the way they track those women like predators stalking their prey.

These guys are players. Both on and off the ice. I'd do well to remember that.

As if confirming my thoughts, Griffin says, "So, d'you have any hot teacher friends? Maybe some real kinky ones who are all buttoned up at work, then you take them home and find out they're a total freak in the sheets?"

Maddox stretches his arm behind me and smacks Griffin upside the head. Then he leaves it there. Resting behind me. "Don't be gross."

Griffin rubs the back of his skull a few times while he shoots Maddox a dirty look. "I was just joking, Dad . Geez." Then he turns to me, looking sheepish, and says, "Sorry, Isla."

"That's okay. I actually do have a coworker like that. Her name is Cynthia, and she teaches science. I heard a rumor that she's an actual dominatrix and makes men wear collars and g-strings while they clean her apartment. If they don't do a good enough job, she flogs them, then makes them lick the floor as punishment." Cynthia is also sixty-two, but Griffin doesn't need to know that .

He shivers with his whole body. "Ugh. Who would clean for fun?"

My description of Cynthia prompts Logan to tell a story about the time he went home with a woman after an away game and found himself handcuffed to her headboard, wearing nothing but nipple clamps and his dress socks. I don't think I've laughed so much in months. Hell, maybe even longer.

I try to remember the last time my belly hurt from laughing when I was with Alex. I can't. He was so obsessed with appearing perfect that it bled into our private lives at home. I stopped cracking dirty jokes or telling him anything that might make him scowl at me with that judgmental look of disdain that made my insides wither. At the end, he was a completely different person than the one I'd met. It wore me down, the way he'd tell me every little thing I did wrong every day. Even if it was something as insignificant as laughing at something crass.

The realization that I stopped sharing anything real with Alex years ago hits me hard. Or maybe, worse still, it's not that I stopped sharing things with him so much as I stopped enjoying things. I stopped living outside of work and being there for him.

I jump when Maddox's low voice rumbles in my ear. "Hey. You okay?" His eyes are kind and concerned when I look up at him. They search my face, lingering on my frown. Like he actually cares. But that's wishful thinking, because clearly I'm desperate for positive attention.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm good."

He studies me for a moment before nodding. "Let's get you some food. The alcohol's probably hitting, and I suspect you can't knock back as many beers as these idiots can without it affecting you." Without waiting for a response, he raises his hand and waves at our server. I don't correct him because I could eat. And I can't tell him what was actually going through my head because it's too pathetic. That kind of confession would bring this night to a grinding halt, and to my great surprise, I'm actually enjoying myself. And there's a secret part of me that hopes Sebastian's offer to go see a game is genuine because I wouldn't mind doing this again. Hanging out with these guys. With Maddox. Nothing romantic will ever happen between us, but maybe we could be friends.

I could use more friends.

The dark cloud over my head lifts when Maddox puts a plate of assorted appetizers in front of me. I guess I was hungry. It doesn't hurt that he has to slap Griffin's hand away at least five times, which makes all of us laugh.

"Isla," Logan says, "did Madds ever tell you about the time he got locked out of his hotel room in Montreal in nothing but this tiny little hotel towel?"

I almost choke on my panko-encrusted onion ring. "What? No."

"Dude." Maddox gives Logan a look that promises retribution, but his teammate ignores him.

"Yep. We were there for a two-game series, and Wright over there stole all of his clothes while he was in the shower. So Madds is soaking wet, the hotel towel barely covering his whole ass, and he's going from room to room demanding to know who took his stuff. Unfortunately, there were quite a few families on our floor, and this young mother comes storming down the hall and starts yelling at him. She's calling him a pervert and a sicko, and all the shouting draws a crowd." Logan snickers while Maddox has his head in his hands next to me. "At one point, he was so flustered that he started talking with his hands, and the towel fell. He was so shocked that he just stood there, hands mid-gesture, dick swinging in the breeze. His ass almost caused an international incident."

I can't hold back my laughter. "No."

"Oh, yes."

"What did the woman do when his towel dropped?"

Logan chuckles. "She got real quiet for a minute while she made eye contact with his dick and then screamed bloody murder. Bash pulled Maddox into his room and Coach had to talk the chick down from calling the cops."

"Oh, my god." I sneak a glance at Maddox as I struggle, and fail, to hold in my laughter. His cheeks are bright red and his lips press into a thin line, but his eyes sparkle with humor. "You dickmatized that poor woman."

He barks out a laugh. "Dickmatized?"

I nod. My whole body shakes with laughter. "Yep, dickmatized. Like hypnotized or traumatized. Probably a mix of both in your case."

Sebastian throws his head back and howls while Griffin and Logan join in. "God, that's perfect. That's exactly what happened." He raises his beer to me. "We are so going to convince you to come to our games. You're one of us now."

One of us now . The words burrow into my heart and make it swell with their easy acceptance. I risk a glance at Maddox to gauge his reaction to Sebastian's proclamation and find him smiling.

You'll only ever be a friend , I remind my traitorous heart as it beats a little faster. You're not his type, and he's not yours .

Maybe if I say it enough times, I'll actually believe it.