Chapter 22

twenty-two

ISLA

There are no assigned seats for dinner, so it feels like the grownup version of musical chairs. As the night wears on, people shift their positions in the room, trying to get closer to whomever they hope to chat with over a long four-course meal.

I don't miss the calculating expressions of several women as they eye Maddox from his post beside me. He hasn't left since coming to my rescue with Jackson. The interaction seemed to flip some switch in him. Hell, it did for me, too. Feeling anything past friendship is a risk, but I can't seem to stop myself. It's impossible to be indifferent. Griffin, Logan, and Sebastian have all spent time talking and laughing with us, though they come and go.

I've heard a few women whispering my name. Apparently, my stupid Instagram post is becoming a hot topic of conversation. They're wondering if Maddox and I are dating. And by the looks I'm getting, none of them are happy that they have to speculate. After all, when they put out the money to attend, Maddox was single and free. Now? They're not sure, and his behavior toward me confirms their suspicions.

Maddox alternates between running his fingers up and down my spine, resting his hand on the small of my back, and brushing my fingers with his. I can barely focus on the conversations I'm supposed to be taking part in. Everywhere his fingers touch, my skin sings with electricity and heat. I shift on my feet as my panties grow more and more damp and I ignore my growing arousal because there are far too many eyes on us.

Actually, maybe this is more like a crowded watering hole in an African desert than a game of musical chairs. It's a lot like that scene in Mean Girls . Predatory women eye their prey with hungry expressions. They're on the hunt for big game, and I'm standing between them and their meal. Either way, it's a struggle not to shrink in on myself with every passing moment.

"Are you okay?" Maddox's nose drags along the skin behind my ear as he whispers the word. A pleasant shiver works down my spine. When I look up, I find his body angled toward mine. The sole focus of his attention.

There's no denying we've crossed some invisible line. I can't lie to myself anymore. Maddox Graves doesn't want to be my friend. If his half-lidded eyes are any indication, he wants to make me his. Having the full force of Maddox's attention is heady, and even the insecurities the gorgeous women around me inspire fade away under his gaze. To give whatever this is between us a chance.

"I'm fine," I tell him. "I just…" Do I tell him about the Instagram post and the fact that more people saw it than I ev er imagined would? I don't want him to see me as some gold-digger who's only using him for his status.

"You know how we took those selfies so I could make my ex feel like crap?" Maddox nods. His expression is serious, and my chest tightens. "Well, my Instagram wasn't set to private, and I wasn't thinking. I posted one of the pictures and it sort of went a bit viral. I blocked all the random people who followed me and set my account to private, but there was a reporter outside who asked me if we were dating. And now these women are looking at me like I'm public enemy number one, which is really anti-girl-power of them, and I didn't mean to drag you into something like this, and a few of the comments on the photo were super gross guys asking if the carpet matches the drapes which I hate more than anything in the world, and I don't like being the center of that kind of attention, and I'm sorry if I embarrassed you…"

"Isla." Maddox's serious expression melts into one of soft amusement. "Take a breath, Short-Stack."

"Don't call me that."

He grins wider. "You didn't embarrass me. I saw the post. Well, my sister did and told me about it. Honestly, I was more worried about how it would affect you to get that kind of attention."

"Really?"

"Really. I've been in the public eye for a while, and I still hate a lot of what comes with it. People think that just because they've seen you play a game or read an interview or seen your social media posts, that they know you. They feel entitled to your life. It's weird and uncomfortable, and I've been on the wrong side of that attention a few times." He grimaces and my mind goes to the interview I read with his ex-girlfriend. "It can be difficult to ignore when people tell lies about you or make unkind comments. You have to remind yourself who you are, and surround yourself with people who care about you and see through the bullshit."

He's got to be talking about fake-tits-Candace. I want to hear his side of the story because the man he's been since pulling his head out of his ass is nothing like the man she described in her tell-all. "Will you tell me about it sometime?"

He considers me with a furrowed brow. "You read her interview."

"I did," I tell him. His face pinches with a flash of hurt, and now it's my turn to be there for him. I rest my hand on his chest. Right over his heart. "I may not know you all that well, but it's easy to see the things she claimed aren't true."

Maddox's eyes widen. He's surprised I don't believe the worst about him? I admit, he worked hard to paint himself as a bastard on our auction date, but I understand now. I'm not the only one throwing up walls to protect myself.

"You don't believe her? Even after the way I treated you when we first met?"

"Oh, you were an asshole at first." I grin, patting his chest again. "But you gave yourself away when you checked for monsters under my bed."

His face fills with light as his frown morphs into a dazzling smile. "Is that so?"

I nod. "Yep. It is."

"Does that mean you'd say yes if I asked you on a date? A real one. No best friends or auctions or awkward interviews afterward." Maddox's eyes sparkle .

"Let's just get through this dinner first. Then we can talk about potential dates." My heart does a pleasant flip, but I remove my hand from his chest when I notice eyes on us. Most of them are women who don't look happy, but Jackson's watching us, too. I wanted Alex to see that photo of Maddox and me when there was no potential for anything between us. That feeling has shifted. Now I don't want Alex to know. Whatever this is, it has nothing to do with him, and I don't want him tainting it.

Maddox's low chuckle rolls over my skin in spine-tingling waves. "Fine. We'll talk about it after dinner. But speaking of potential dates, we need to schedule that assembly. Have you talked to your boss?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm waiting for her to get back to me, but I think the first week of September would work. That's still before your preseason officially starts, right?"

He nods. "Yeah. I mentioned it to Coach, and he thinks it's a great idea. He'll clear whatever date you need that week."

I open my mouth to tell him how much it means to me he hasn't forgotten his promise, but before I can get the words out, someone taps on a microphone. An elegant middle-aged woman stands in front of one of the silent auction tables.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Tracy Butler, and I'd like to thank you on behalf of the Minnesota Rogues for your incredibly generous donations. You're all doing a world of good in our community, and we're honored to partner with you. Please finish placing any last-minute bids and find a seat. Dinner will be served shortly."

There's a collective inhalation, then everyone is in motion. They try to move casually to snag seats near their favorite players, but there's a crackle of impatience in the air. Maddox moves with the assurance of a massive, ripped hockey player who knows people will get out of his way as he guides us to a table where Griffin already sits. There's a very excited-looking brunette next to him blinking so rapidly I idly worry she's having a stroke. Maddox pulls out the chair on Griffin's other side for me, then drapes his suit jacket over the back of the seat next to mine.

"I'll be right back," he murmurs in my ear. He watches me until I nod, then strides over toward the tables filled with expensive goods and experiences.

"Having more fun now?" Griffin asks, ignoring the woman beside him as she tries surreptitiously to press her boobs together for maximum cleavage. I grin at him. Not even Jackson's curiosity from the next table over dampens the lightness that's filled my chest since Maddox intervened in our discussion.

"I am," I reply easily. "Are you?"

Griffin grins brightly. "Hell, yeah. My dance card is full for the rest of the week."

I don't bother trying to stifle the snort that comes out with my laughter. Calling his scheduled hookups a dance card is so Griffin. Normally, that kind of talk would piss me off, but I don't get the sense that Maddox's teammate is treating any of these women maliciously. It's more that he doesn't take much seriously. And that includes relationships with the opposite sex. "Is that what we're calling it these days?"

His grin grows wider. "Sounds better than sex roster."

"You're not wrong," I reply with a chuckle.

The girl on Griffin's other side raises her hand. "You can put me on your sex roster. I can do the splits and put both legs behind my head."

Griffin's eyes widen and he turns to her so slowly it might as well be slow-motion. He holds out a hand. "Hi there. My name's Griffin Wright. What's your name, darlin'?"

There's no holding back my laughter as the two of them discuss their favorite sex positions. Like it's as normal as commenting on the weather. It's utterly ridiculous and hilarious, but there's no denying the way my mind wanders to Maddox and all the kinky positions we could get into. He's so tall and muscular. I bet he could do that thing where the guy holds you up so you're straddling his face while he stands, then eats you out while you've got nothing to hold on to but his hair. Or shower sex that doesn't involve bending over while water drips into your eyes and nose. I know he'd be strong enough to pin me to the wall and pound into me while his fingers dig into my ass as he holds me up.

"Oh, I love anal," the brunette next to Griffin says. It's loud enough that several heads turn in her direction. "I have this super cute butt plug with a fox tail on it. I'll show you if you want."

Griffin hums What Does the Fox Say while he nods emphatically. "Oh, Quinoa, I definitely want to see that."

I nearly spit out my water and look at Griffin. He meets my wide-eyed gaze with a huge smirk as I mouth her name is Quinoa? He just shrugs and stifles a laugh.

Turning back to the ultra-flexible brunette named after a grain, he props his chin on his palm. "What's your stance on cock-rings?"