Chapter 11

ELODIE

I woke up late the following morning. Luckily, I wasn't expected in the office. I climbed from bed with a groan, feeling hungover yet I hadn't gotten inebriated last night. Maybe I was just drunk from Mac kissing me.

I collapsed back into bed, my mind replaying the night. I didn't know how I'd had the strength to go home instead of staying the night. It hadn't helped that Mac kept kissing me, seducing me with every brush of his lips, every slide of his tongue—

And his throbbing hard-on, which he very intentionally made sure I'd felt? Gah . That thing felt huge. I buried my face in my pillow. God, I was in trouble. Despite my insistence that I needed to think about the contract, I knew I was going to sign it. I didn't have the willpower to resist Mac anymore.

And why should I? There was no shame in enjoying this arrangement. Especially now that I'd ended things with Todd. The fact that Mac had been so thorough in drafting the contract showed that he knew what he was doing.

That made me wonder how many other women he'd entered into similar arrangements with in the past. I shook that thought from my head. It didn't matter. This was about us. And I knew deep in my bones that he wanted me to feel safe. Even as the thought of letting him do all those things we'd discussed last night would drag me out of my comfort zone.

I shivered but finally dragged myself out of bed because my stomach was rumbling for food. As I got some food, though, reality smacked me in the face as the stack of bills sitting on my table seemed to scream at me.

What was I going to do about my job? I had an assignment, and to get paid, I had to complete it. Which meant not being honest with Mac about who—and what—I was.

I picked up the bill on top and opened it. It was for my car, again. It warned me that if I didn't make a payment in the next thirty days, they'd start the repossession process.

"Fuck," I muttered, feeling sick to my stomach. I lived in LA. I had to have a car, unfortunately.

I sat down and stared at the bill. My brain whirled in what felt like a thousand different directions. I knew that even if I signed Mac's contract, I couldn't quit my job either.

Was I naive? Thinking that I could figure out a way to have my cake and eat it, too?

After eating and showering, I glanced at my phone. I frowned when I saw a text message from a number I didn't recognize.

Hi, Elodie, this is your uncle Jose, your mom's brother. We're having a party next month at my place. Let me know if you can make it.

The text made me sit down. I hadn't seen or spoken to my mom's side of the family since she'd died. Jose and his wife, Maria, had attended Mom's funeral, along with their four kids, but that had been it. Mom also had a sister back in the Philippines, but I'd never met her.

My grandma Esmeralda hadn't approved of my father. She especially hadn't approved when Mom had gotten pregnant with me outside of marriage. My parents only got married because they'd had to. After, poor Mom had been abandoned and left to raise me on her own.

I picked up a photo of my mom from before she'd had me. She'd been a beauty queen back in the Philippines. In the photo, she wore her tiara and sash. She looked beautiful. Young and hopeful.

She'd never once said that she regretted having me, never acted like I was a burden in any way, but I'd always wondered. She'd ended up alone in Los Angeles, working three jobs at a time to keep food on our table since her family essentially abandoned her.

It's just you and me, baby , she'd say to me all the time when I was a child. We don't need anybody else.

I didn't remember much about my dad. He'd left when I was only four years old. For a few years, he'd send a postcard from wherever he ended up, but even that had stopped by the time I was in middle school. I remembered Mom sitting at our kitchen table, her head in her hands and a pile of letters scattered across the table.

Dad had returned all of Mom's letters. When I'd tried to read them, Mom had freaked out, telling me to get out. She'd scrambled to collect all the letters. I'd always wondered what she'd done with them. Had she kept them hidden, or had she destroyed them? I never did find them after she was gone.

Although I was half Filipina, I'd never felt all that attached to that side of my heritage. Maybe it was because I'd been born and raised in the US, or because Mom had never wanted me to speak Tagalog. The few times she'd spoken it around me, she'd get annoyed when I'd repeat the words back to her.

You're American. Speak English , she'd tell me.

I sighed. I was inclined to ignore my uncle's text. He'd tried to mend fences with me since Mom's death, but I hadn't been in a place to let him.I had too much animosity toward my mother's family for not being there when she needed them most.

A random thought hit me. Jose and his family would be horrified that I was talking to Mac about signing a contract to make me his sub. I chuckled under my breath. They'd probably have me committed.

As I sat and drank my coffee, my mind awhirl, there was a knock on my door. Not expecting anyone, I checked the peephole before opening it, only to find a courier holding a manila envelope in his hand.

"Elodie Andrews?" he asked, sounding bored.

"Yeah, that's me."

After I signed for it, he handed me the envelope. The return address was a law office here in LA. I knew what it was before I even opened it.

Taking the contract out, I returned to the kitchen to read through it. Seeing my name and Mac's in writing, along with everything we'd agreed to, made my heart race.

On top of the stack of documents, though, was a Post-it that read, Let my lawyer know if you have any changes or questions. -Mac

The contract was twenty pages long. I didn't think I had the mental capacity to look at it right then. Instead, I finished my cold coffee and texted Hannah, asking her to come over when she could.

By the time she arrived, I felt like I might burst. I was so desperate to tell her everything. Though I felt a little guilty for spilling the beans, I hadn't signed the NDA yet.

"You look like you're about to explode," said Hannah, giving me a concerned look.

I simply handed her the contract. Her eyes widened.

"Is this . . .?" she asked.

I nodded, feeling a tinge of guilt, wondering how Mac would feel if he knew I'd shared the contract with her.

"Well, shit." She slowly sank onto my couch. Her eyes widened as she began to scan the text. "Damn. Well, he is thorough. I'll give him that." Her gaze caught mine. "No golden showers, eh?"

I smacked her arm. "Come on, now."

"Hey, I'm not here to judge." She snickered as she went through the list of nos. "Well, I guess I'm relieved at some of these. Too bad about the choking, though. It can be fun."

I gaped at her. "Wait, you've . . .? You know what, never mind. Do you think this is totally insane?"

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't do it." She shrugged and handed me the documents. "Are you going to sign them?"

"I need to read through it all, but . . ." I suddenly felt sheepish. "Yeah, I think I will."

Hannah whistled and stood. "Then this calls for a toast. Elodie is going to get her freak on! It's a miracle."

It wasn't even lunchtime, but I wasn't going to refuse some celebratory wine. Hannah helped herself to a bottle of Cabernet sitting on my counter. She popped open the cork and poured each of us some. We clinked glasses, Hannah's expression amused but strangely proud.

That was when someone else knocked on my front door. "Who is it this time?" I grumbled.

A Blades tote bag sat on the front step. A note was attached, and I recognized Mac's handwriting immediately.

There's a game tonight. Two tickets are inside. And no, I'm not above bribery. See you tonight.

My pulse raced as I brought the bag inside. Hannah and I found two jerseys inside, along with the tickets, two nice water tumblers, wristbands, and signed caps from Mac himself.

"Dang, he really wants you to say yes," Hannah said, putting on one of the caps. "And I, for one, very much appreciate his enthusiasm."

"Since when did you care about hockey?" The question reminded me of when Todd had asked me the very same thing. I had to laugh at myself.

"Since the hottest player on the team wants to get into your pants," she answered.

I looked at the tickets and frowned. "These are for the game in Colorado."

"Wait, did you read the back of the note?" Hannah turned over the piece of paper. "‘A limo will be waiting for you at five o'clock to take you to the airport,'" she read. Her eyebrows shot up. "Damn, he's really pulling out all the stops, isn't he?"

I grabbed the note from her. "The game is at eight. How are we going to get there in time? It'll take us an hour just to get to LAX."

"Girl, he probably has a private jet."

To my amazement, Hannah was correct. The limo drove us not to LAX but to John Wayne where the rich and famous took off in their private jets. Instead of getting stripped and yelled at by TSA like regular folk, we were wined and dined the second the limo driver opened the car doors for us.

"Is this real life?" I asked for the thousandth time after the private jet had taken off. We'd already been served champagne and the fanciest appetizers I'd ever seen.

Hannah giggled. Giggled! Hannah never giggled. "I sure as fuck hope so." She popped a ball of fancy cheese into her mouth. "This is amazing. Not even Emma and Ryan have a private jet, and they're fucking rich."

We landed in Denver and before I knew it, we were at the stadium. Inside, we were escorted to a private box with an amazing view of the rink. I was wearing Mac's jersey, while Hannah wore the other, along with a cap.

My friend was busy figuring out what kind of scrumptious food we should order from the menu, but I focused on seeing Mac. I couldn't believe he'd gone to all this trouble. Hadn't I already basically told him I'd sign the contract? Then again, he hadn't been able to see inside my head to know just how excited I really was about this, even if I pretended I needed time to think about it.

Was all this effort just to get into my pants? Was I going to owe him big for all this? Or did he actually like me?

I felt like a giddy schoolgirl. When both teams began to enter the ice, and the crowd went wild, I found myself hooting and hollering with them.

Simply nothing was more exhilarating than everyone cheering for your man. Technically, he wasn't even mine, but I already felt a certain possessiveness over him, given our impending arrangement.

Mac was the first to enter. He skated the circumference of the rink, stopping near the north end where Hannah and I were sitting. When he looked up, he flashed a smile and tapped two fingers to his forehead in a salute. It felt like one of those moments you read about. Out of all of these tens of thousands of people, he'd sought me out. He was about to play a game, yet he'd been thinking of me.

I could hardly breathe. He hadn't even touched me—he'd just looked at me—and I felt like I was going to faint. Oh God . A panic attack was coming on. It had been years since I had one. My heart pounded in my chest, and my palms and face began to sweat. Hannah must've noticed something was wrong. She grabbed my arm.

"Elodie, breathe. Breathe, girl."

She kept her hand on my back as I took a deep breath. Then another. Hannah started fanning me with a random brochure, continuously amused at my lack of composure.

"I'm not sure if that was nervousness or excitement. But whichever it was, it's clear you are so far gone," she said, shaking her head. "But I can't even judge you for it."

Luckily, the game started then, and it helped me focus on something other than what would likely be happening soon. I wasn't sure if it was how I felt, but the game was exhilarating. The home team, the Blizzards, was one of the best in the league, and the Blades trailed behind in the beginning. But they soon caught up, especially after Mac scored two goals in a row.

Hannah grabbed my hand, squeezing it so hard that I started to lose feeling in my fingers, but I didn't care. The game was currently tied, with only thirty seconds left on the clock, and my skin tingled with anticipation as I watched the numbers tick down.

Twenty-nine.

Twenty-eight.

Twenty-seven.

Carmichael, one of the wingers, stole the puck and sent it sailing across the ice in Mac's direction. Everyone in the crowd jumped up as Mac took control, racing down the ice while shuttling the puck back and forth.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Mac glided toward the net, swung his stick back, and slammed the puck. Everyone in the arena held their breaths as the tiny puck flew toward the goal. It slid between the goalie's knees and crossed the red line. Mac scored the winning goal of the game!

The buzzer sounded two seconds later, and the stadium erupted. I screamed, Hannah screamed, and then we jumped up and down, hugging each other.

"Oh my God!" I kept saying over and over again. "Did you see that?"

"That was fucking amazing." Hannah shook her head. "Holy shit. Wow. What a game!"

It was the first time I'd truly understood what all the hype was about when it came to Mac's hockey prowess. We were giddy, a little drunk, and near bursting with excitement. The high was still carrying us as a security guard came in and asked us to follow him. Hannah actually skipped as we made our way to the locker room area.

Mac was one of the first to walk out, freshly showered and looking triumphant. It was only the presence of other people who kept me from throwing myself at him. It didn't help that his grin was infectious.Every time I saw this man, I wanted him more than the last.

Carmichael, the player who had assisted in the winning goal, came out right behind him, also grinning. Brady Carmichael was all muscle. Although he wasn't as tall as Mac, he was all angles and strength. He'd recently buzzed his head, and he now looked like he'd come straight out of the Marines. Despite his tough exterior, he was a favorite among the fans, as he tended to say off-the-wall things during press conferences. I'd become a bit of a hockey aficionado lately.

Brady's gaze caught mine, then slid immediately over to Hannah's. Interest flashed across his face. When I glanced over at Hannah, she seemed just as intrigued.

"Amazing game," I said to Mac. "Congratulations."

"I'm glad you were able to come," he replied.

Hannah snorted. "You sent a limo and a private jet for us. Of course we were going to come."

Brady gaped at Mac. "Seriously, dude?"

Mac shrugged and winked at me. "It was short notice. I had to pull some strings."

I was tongue-tied. Feeling embarrassed, I blushed and stared down at my shoes.

Fortunately, Brady came to our rescue. "I need a drink. Let's go back to the hotel." He sent Hannah a warm smile. "You didn't tell me your name, beautiful."

Hannah rolled her eyes, but she seemed amused. "No, I didn't. How about you give me a good reason to give it to you, hmm?"

Mac slung an arm around my shoulder. "I can see why you two are friends already."

The hotel not only had a bar but also karaoke rooms available to rent. To my surprise, Mac was the one who wanted to do karaoke.

Brady leaned down to murmur in my ear, "He's a terrible singer."

Mac gave Brady the finger. "Says the guy who loves to try singing ‘My Heart Will Go On' at the top of his lungs."

"That's your song?" Hannah's lips twitched. "Celine Dion?"

"Yeah, and? She's the GOAT." Brady shook his head in dismay. "And she's Canadian. I like Canadians. They know hockey."

Hannah smirked. "Shame. I'm from LA."

"I can overlook that."

Mac and I laughed. Our friends were a match made in heaven, it seemed. The four of us got our drinks and some munchies and headed to our karaoke room. I'd only done karaoke once in college, and it had been at a sleazy dive bar near USC.

"Okay, who's going first?" Despite the question, Hannah began looking through the song selection choices, mic already in hand. "Oh shit, I love this one!" She grabbed my arm and pulled me up to the front of the room.

I tried to extricate myself, but Hannah wasn't letting go. The guys were already laughing at us, and when the beginnings of "Before He Cheats" started playing, I couldn't help but get into the mood with Hannah. Her enthusiasm was contagious.

We sang like crazy people, our voices cracking and squealing, Brady covering his ears more than once during our attempts at the high notes. Mac watched with an amused look on his face.

Our gazes met as I sang the chorus, and the heat in his eyes was enough to make my face burn red if I hadn't already been that color from singing my heart out. Brady, for his part, just shook his head and laughed when Hannah pointed a finger at him.

When we finished, Brady said to Hannah, "Never let me get on your bad side."

"I'm perfectly pleasant all the time," she protested.

"You probably make most guys shit their pants."

Hannah wrinkled her nose. "Wow, what a lovely description."

Brady leaned down and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh.

Mac and I exchanged glances. "I'd warn your friend, but it seems like she can take care of herself," he said.

"Oh, don't worry. Hannah is very capable." I shot him a smile. "What's your karaoke song, then?"

"That's a surprise for later." Mac got up and pushed Brady up to the front.

The guys sang "Baby Got Back" as the drinks continued to flow. We were all hammered by the end, laughing like lunatics when Brady rapped Weird Al Yankovic's "White and Nerdy."

Mac had the final song of the night. To my surprise, he chose The Righteous Brothers' "Unchained Melody." Mac had a smooth baritone voice that made me shiver as I listened. All three of us sat enraptured.

Hadn't Brady said that Mac couldn't sing? I glanced at Brady, and Brady just shrugged. He was clearly as confused as I was.

When Mac finished, we all broke into applause.

"I didn't know you could sing!" I said when Mac sat back down next to me. "Brady said you were terrible!"

"I only break out the singing for certain people," Mac replied.

"Shit man, that was something else." Brady smacked Mac on the shoulder. "In case your hockey career goes to shit, you should take up singing."

"And you definitely should not take up singing." Mac laughed. "You sounded like a dying cat up there."

He and Brady got into a wrestling match, although they were already drunk enough that it was pretty pathetic for a wrestling match between two famous athletes.

I'd never seen Mac this relaxed before. I'd only seen him either playing hockey or at The Scarlet Rope, where he was always in complete control. Seeing him let loose with friends was new, but it was refreshing. I appreciated both sides of him, but I couldn't help but wonder how often he let himself have fun. Did his need for control make it hard for him to be silly like this? Did he need to have the assistance of alcohol to let it happen?

By the end of the night, Brady needed to be taken up to his room, while Hannah was falling asleep on a couch in the hotel lobby. I hadn't had as much to drink as everyone else, and it seemed as though Mac had already started sobering up.

I glanced over at Hannah, who was snoring lightly. "I think we should get her to bed."

But even as I said the words, I had the sudden urge to go to bed with Mac instead. My brain started to put together a plan—we could get Hannah her own room, and then I could go with Mac—

As if reading my mind, Mac gave me a heated grin. "You need to go to bed, too," he said softly.

"I'm not tired."

"Well, I am." He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. "I have my private jet scheduled to fly you home in the morning."

Disappointment flooded me, even though I knew Mac was trying to be a gentleman. After all, I was pretty drunk. "Thank you," I said.

"Don't look so sad." He touched my cheek. "I'll be back in town soon." His eyes darkened. "And maybe by then, the contract will be signed by everybody."

I swallowed hard. "Yes."

"I hope you'll give this a try."

I wanted to yell that I was desperate for him, that I didn't care about signing a contract, that I just wanted him , but I knew he was right. We couldn't sleep together. Not if we were going to do this—whatever this was—right.

"Good night, then." I glanced outside, where dawn was beginning to lighten the horizon. "Or good morning, I guess."

Mac kissed me one last time. "Good night, Elodie." He looked over at Hannah. "I'll get you guys a room and help you upstairs so you can get a few hours of sleep, at least."

When Hannah let out a loud snore, Mac and I both laughed and shook our heads.