Chapter 20

twenty

ISLA

We make our way upstairs to a massive, open area. It's filled with circular tables covered in ivory tablecloths, hockey-themed centerpieces, and twinkle lights that hang from the ceiling. It's surprisingly beautiful for the inside of a hockey arena. All along the outer edge of the space are long rectangular tables covered in signed paraphernalia, plaques describing services you can bid on, tickets to games, and so much more. People dressed in designer clothes linger before each display. Some scan QR codes with their phones and bid while others window shop.

Jess and Nevaeh ooh and ahh over everything while I scan the room for Maddox. Or any of the other guys. They should be here, and it'll be nice to see them again. Except, I can't find any of them. There are so many people crowded together. They may be mingling. Or maybe Maddox changed his mind and isn't coming after all. I inwardly kick myself for how disappointed that thought makes me, and my shoulders sag.

"Who are you looking for?" A deep voice whispers in my ear, so close that the hot brush of his breath on my neck makes me shiver.

I try to hide the massive smile tugging at my lips because the last thing Maddox Graves needs is something else to inflate his already generous ego. "No one," I lie, only turning my head toward him enough to be heard over the hum of the crowd.

"So you're not hoping to spot a devilishly handsome center in an Adidas tracksuit?"

I laugh, turning to take him in, because if he's really wearing a tracksuit, I'm going to demand he go buy me a set, too. Sparkling brown eyes meet mine, and those full lips of his quirk when I look him up and down. I can't decide if I'm more disappointed that he's not wearing a tracksuit, or startled when I notice the color of the tie he's paired with his fitted navy suit. Emerald green. My favorite.

"You look stunning," he murmurs. There's no denying the heated appreciation of his gaze as he takes me in. "Every time I see you, it's like you've become more beautiful."

My cheeks flush hot, and I drop his gaze. I thought I'd gotten over the embarrassment his flirting brings on, but I guess that only applies to text flirting. In the real world, I can't play it cool to save my life. "Thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself."

And he does. God, he does .

He's wearing expensive brown leather dress shoes without socks. On any normal man, I'd think it a strange stylistic choice, but on Maddox? It somehow works. His pants are fitted and slim, hugging every defined muscle of his legs. His shirt is a crisp, bright white, and perfectly tailored. The jacket he's wearing is open, showing off that green tie. Swallowing hard, I do my best to ignore the pulse of desire throbbing between my thighs. When I summon enough courage to look up at him again, he's smiling knowingly. It's not a smug smile, though. No, I'd almost call that smile affectionate.

We stare at each other for a beat longer than could be considered normal before I hear my name being called enthusiastically from a few feet away.

"Damn, Isla, looking good!" Griffin offers me a blinding smile. He jokingly elbows Maddox out of the way so he can steal my attention. Of course, this has my friends turning around. I try not to giggle when Nevaeh's mouth drops open and Jess's eyes widen. Because it's not just Griffin who's wandered over to say hello, it's Sebastian and Logan, too. And while none of them hold a candle to Maddox, I can admit they all look damned good in their suits.

"Oh. My. God," Nev whispers as she stares at Griffin. He grins but has the good sense not to draw attention to her blatant fangirling.

"Hey, Griffin. Hi, guys. You all look pretty good yourselves." I lean in tentatively when Griffin opens his arms to hug me. Maddox makes a disgruntled sound low in his throat, and my stomach flips. Sebastian and Logan don't offer hugs, no doubt sensing their friend's displeasure, but they do offer bright smiles and nods.

"Who are these lovely ladies with you?" Logan asks. "Are these the famous best friends we've heard so much about?"

"Yes, these are my best friends. Guys, meet Jess and Nevaeh." I motion to my besties before pointing at Griffin. "Jess and Nev, this is Griffin, Sebastian, and Logan. And this"—I tug Maddox from behind Griffin—"is Maddox."

They all exchange pleasantries while Logan waves a server over to replace our now-empty champagne flutes with fresh bubbly. The guys are sweet, engaging my friends in animated conversation until they're pulled away to speak with other guests. Maddox rubs his jaw, clearly unhappy about being summoned along with them.

"Would you sit next to me at dinner?"

The breath catches in my lungs, but I manage a nod. "Yeah, of course."

His answering smile is blinding. I'd be lying if I claimed it didn't make me weak in the knees. Then again, I'd challenge any woman even remotely attracted to men not to swoon when he looks at you that way. With another glower toward the teammate I've never met who's calling him over, Maddox runs his gaze up and down my form, lingering on my lips for an extra moment before he excuses himself.

"Holy Chris Hemsworth," Jess hisses. "He's totally into you!"

"He's not," I reply. The denial is reflexive, but even I'm not buying it when Maddox keeps glancing my way. And that's on top of all the text flirting we've been doing.

"Oh, he so is." Nevaeh looks like a kid on Christmas morning, staring at a pile of presents as big as she is. "And you're into him too. "

I scoff at that. "Right. I'm into the guy who ignored me on our date."

"No," Jess says, drawing out the word. "You're into the guy who saved you from an obnoxious creep. The guy who's staring at you like he's a starving man and you're his favorite meal." She arches one well-manicured eyebrow at me. "And did he know that shade of green is your favorite color?"

The blush staining my cheeks is answer enough.

"Chris on a cracker." Jess's attention volleys between Maddox and me. "He wore a tie in your favorite color on purpose? Yeah. He wants you."

"It's just a tie." It's not, and I know it. But if I admit how much that small gesture made my heart gallop in my chest, I will no longer be able to float lazily down the river denial.

"And Chris Hemsworth is just a guy." Jess shakes her head at me.

"You're obsessed."

"Duh. Want to know who else is obsessed? Maddox Graves. With you."

And maybe Jess is on to something, because every time I glance at him, he's looking at me. It's like I'm back in high school desperately trying to control myself and my wandering eyes that keep lingering on Mike Menski as he leans against his locker, chatting with the guys in his band. The problem is, the more you think about not doing something, the more you want to do it. And as much as I'm loath to admit it, I really want to look at Maddox Graves. I want him to look at me. Hell, every time I catch his eyes on me, there's a voice in my head growing louder and louder that says I want him to devour me .

I shake my head to clear the lusty thoughts because this is the real world, not some bodice-ripper. Men like Maddox don't want to devour women like me.

Right?

The girls and I make small talk with a few people they recognize. We smile and cluster together for photographs, peruse the silent-auction offerings that are way outside of my means, and nibble on finger foods when servers pass by with trays full of spanakopita and bacon-wrapped scallops. I'm staring at a plaque offering a weekend in Vail to the highest bidder and imagining what it would be like to have the money to jet off and do something so extravagant when Griffin sidles up next to me.

"Going to bid on that?"

Hopefully my laugh doesn't sound bitter. I've made choices with my life and I don't regret them. I'm just feeling some FOMO. "God, no. I can barely afford groceries some weeks on my teacher's salary. Pretty sure anything I put on a weekend in Vail would be out-bid in a heartbeat." Squinting at the perfectly retouched photos of smiling skiers, I add, "Plus, I have no idea how to ski. I'd probably break my neck or crash crotch-first into a tree like some uncoordinated cartoon character."

Griffin lets out a guffaw of laughter and cradles his dick. "Ouch. Yeah, maybe no skiing, then."

"The hot air balloon ride over the city is more my speed."

"Oh, yeah?" Griffin looks at the offering beside the weekend in Colorado. It's a romantic balloon ride at sunset with champagne, gourmet dessert, and cozy blankets to keep you warm in the air. "I'm totally afraid of heights. You wouldn't want me to go in something like that. I'd be leaning over the side, puking on some poor sap below within minutes."

I can't help wrinkling my nose at that. "Gross."

"Right?" He shivers. "One time I went on that huge Ferris wheel at Navy Pier in Chicago with the boys and I yacked all over Logan when our car stopped at the top." Griffin stares off into space as though reliving it. "He beat the shit out of me when we got back on the ground. And by that time, everyone was trying hard not to puke too, because it smelled rank in that enclosed car." His gaze slides back to me and a massive smile transforms his face into something boyish. "Good times."

That has me laughing. "That's your definition of good times?"

"Hell yeah. Out with my boys, living life, pissing Logan off… On second thought, those weren't just good times, they were the best times."

"Whatever you say," I reply, smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. That seems to be a theme around Maddox's golden-haired friend. He doesn't seem to take life very seriously. Thinking of Maddox has me seeking him out in the crowd. I try not to stiffen when I find him in the center of a group of gorgeous women. They're all tall and model-thin, and probably loaded. My smile falters when a leggy blonde laughs, pressing her hand to his chest. Maddox doesn't push the touch away. Of course, he doesn't push her touch away.

"He hates this kind of thing," Griffin says, catching the direction of my gaze, and likely my thoughts. "And he hates when women like that fawn all over him." Maddox smiles at one woman when she says something witty and throws her head back in laughter .

"He doesn't look like he hates it."

I can feel Griffin studying me, but I don't look his way. Instead, I continue to torture myself and watch those gorgeous women throw themselves at Maddox. "Look at his hands. See how he keeps clenching his fists?" My attention drops to find Maddox doing just that. He balls his hands into fists, clenches, then releases them, only to repeat the process. "He's trying not to say something rude because Coach would have his ass if he wasn't nice and attentive to everyone wanting a bit of attention from him. Trust me, he's miserable."

Just then, Maddox meets my gaze. Brown eyes search my face, and his brow furrows at whatever he finds. His previous smile slips quickly into a scowl and he shuffles his weight from one foot to the other.

"He just noticed the frown marks between your eyebrows and now he wants to ditch the jersey-chasers and storm over here to make sure I didn't say something stupid to upset you." Griffin laughs gleefully.

We both watch as the blonde woman places her hand on Maddox again. This time, she lightly drags it down his bicep, before letting it rest on his forearm. My frown deepens, and this time Maddox does brush her hand away. "Here he comes in three. Two. One."

And sure enough, by the time Griffin hits one , Maddox excuses himself from the crowd of fawning women and crosses the room with a purposeful stride.

"What's wrong? Did Griffin call you a TILF?"

There's a beat of silence as my brain processes that. Then Griffin and I double over with laughter. "TILF? What the hell, Griffin?"

The man shrugs between bouts of laughter. "I meant it from Maddox's perspective." As Maddox's face grows dark with irritation, Griffin only laughs harder. It's infectious.

"What are you two cackling about?" Maddox turns to me. "And why did you look upset?" He reaches up and smooths the skin between my eyebrows with his thumb, even though I'm too busy laughing to still have frown lines. Maddox's fan club watches our exchange with less-than-lovely glowers, but he's too focused on me to notice. The tightening in my chest loosens.

"I'm fine," I say between gasping breaths. "Griffin didn't say anything to upset me."

"Then why were you frowning?"

I can't tell him the truth. It would be too pathetic. The problem is, I can't seem to think of anything else to say. Which means I'm standing there, mouth open, utterly silent.

"You know how sometimes we're on the road and it's late at night and we're all a little drunk so we turn on those tele-novellas?" Griffin shoots me a wink, silently telling me to go along with whatever he's about to say. "Well, I was doing that. I just made the blonde over there say something ridiculous and Isla was frowning because she was trying to get in character as you."

There's no hiding the super graceful snort I let out. "Uh, yep. Just getting in the right headspace to come up with lines for a big grumpy hockey player."

Maddox arches one eyebrow at us both and crosses his arms over his chest. "Is that so?"

"Yep," Griffin says. His smile is utter mischief. It has Maddox rubbing his temples.

"I'm going to regret introducing the two of you, aren't I?" He doesn't mean it, though. His fond expression makes that clear.

I turn to Maddox. "Is it true Griffin puked all over Logan at the top of a giant Ferris wheel?"

Maddox groans. "Yeah, I'm definitely going to regret it."