Alyssa nudged me playfully with an elbow, saying under her breath, “I know, right? So hot.”
“Uh-huh,” was all I could manage as I realized my career in Indy—most specifically, working with the Speed—was over before it even began.
Maddox continued to address the room. “It’s exciting that I’m taking over at a time when the Speed has acquired some new talent, both in the draft and in free agency, as we continue our quest to return to the Finals,this time with the aim of winning the championship. We came close once. I know we can do it again.”
There was some excited applause from those seated.
“Now, you all know how much I love being in front of the camera . . .”—his voice trailed off, and several reporters chuckled—“but I know it’s my job now to keep you up to date, so I’ll do my best to make myself available during the appropriate times. Yes, I know we all travel together, but please be respectful of the players and staff during our downtime. There is plenty of time designated for the press at home and on the road. I’ll now open up the floor to questions.”
As Alyssa had predicted, the front row’s hands rose quickly, vying for attention from the Speed’s newest head coach. It was clear from the look on his face that he wasn’t a fan of these eager beavers, and his green gaze scanned the crowd.
When those shining emeralds locked on where I sat, they widened as recognition set in. Maddox’s lips twitched imperceptibly, and I watched as the carnal knowledge he held of me filtered through his mind.
My heart began beating in triple time, pounding in my ears so loud I was sure everyone could hear it, instantly knowing I’d crossed a line with the coach.
“I think it’s only fair that since I’m new to my position, I take my first question from our newest correspondent. Miss . . .”
Even though his eyes were searing straight into me, raising my core temperature, I peeked around, certain he meant someone else—more accurately, praying that was the case.
Alyssa spoke quietly in my ear. “I think he means you.”
Of course, he does. Because fuck my life. Fuck my entire career, for that matter. Because in my need to escape for one night, I fucked the goddamnhead coach of the Indy Speed and didn’t want to know his motherfucking name!
Amusement sparkled in Maddox’s eyes as I took a moment to mentally freak out before pulling myself back together.
Taking a cleansing breath, I offered my name as professionally as possible, mindful that we had an audience. “Cooper. Bristol Cooper with the Indy Sports Review.” He dipped his chin in acknowledgment, allowing me to ask my first official question as a member of the Indy Speed press pack. “This is your first time head coaching. How do you feel you can be an asset to the Speed over a candidate with more experience?”
In a flash, Maddox’s demeanor changed. Gone was the playful, sexy man who was secretly delighting in my predicament, replaced with one barely able to conceal his rage. A muscle along his freshly shaven jawline twitched, indicating his teeth were gritted, and those warm green eyes hardened, giving me a cool glare that had a shiver rolling down my spine.
What the hell did I say wrong?
Nostrils practically flaring, Maddox answered my question. “I don’t need anyone to point out that I’m untested behind the bench. I am as acutely aware as all of you that there were more qualified candidates for this job. You’ll all be witness to my trial by fire. But know this: no man out there can rival my passion forthisteam. Three-quarters of the roster are men I have played with, have led as their captain. I know their games inside and out. I think that gives me a slight advantage over an outside hire. And they all know that I’m ready to ride into battle with them, through the good and the bad, because we’ve done it before. I might have traded my skates for suits and swapped out weight training for film review, but make no mistake—my heart will forever bleed Indy Speed red and black.”
It became very clear that his inexperience was a sore spot. And I was the silly girl reporter who’d poked at that bruise. Great. It would seem I wasn’t doing myself any favors—last night or today.
His attention finally moved to a new target, and I slumped in my chair, sweat gathering beneath my armpits after the verbal tongue-lashing.
A sure hand grabbed my trembling one, and I turned to find Alyssa giving me an empathetic smile. I was grateful for her offer of comfort and gave a squeeze in response.
“First days are always hard. It’s not your fault. He was never the biggest fan of the press, but it got worse after the injury,” she explained.
“Yeah.” I nodded slightly, fighting hard against the telltale tingles of tears prickling behind my eyes.
Thank God my phone recorded the rest of that press conference because I was lost in another world, far away.
It was typical that in my attempt to branch out, I’d hooked up with a former player. Apparently, I had a type.
Once a puck bunny, always a puck bunny, I guess.
Chapter 7
Bristol
The rest of themorning 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.
