“Thanks, Dakota. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
We hung up, and I felt marginally better. Dakota was right. Taking sex out of the equation was important. While it was a critical part of determining compatibility with a man, it shouldn’t be the determining factor—case in point: Nix. We had chemistry in bed—though nothing compared to what I’d shared with Maddox—but he was a shitty human being. What separated the men from the boys was whether they could stand by yourside when life got tough, if they could help carry your burdens when they grew too heavy to handle alone.
If I really thought about it, Maddox had tried to do that. Some might view his fight with Nix as irrational jealousy over an ex-boyfriend, but it was more than that. He wanted to protect me from the man who tore me down and made me feel like less. He wanted to prove to me that I was worth more than a casual fuck.
I was scared—scratch that, I wasterrified—of what opening up my heart might mean, but Maddox had given me no reason to doubt him. As upset as I was that he’d left me wanting tonight, I couldn’t deny Dakota’s point that a lesser man wouldn’t have stopped. They would have sought sexual gratification, not caring about what came after. That alone set Maddox apart.
If I needed further proof, there was that first road trip with the team, when he was there for me. I could only imagine Nix telling me how dramatic I was being and to suck it up. But not Maddox. He’d taken care of me, not only in calming my panic and talking through my fears, but after we landed, when he’d demanded that I be treated for my self-inflicted wounds.
The evidence was mounting that Maddox was unlike any man I’d encountered. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized he deserved a fair chance to show me what an equal partnership looked like.
But not before I had a little fun with him first . . .
Chapter 18
Maddox
Walking away from Bristolwas one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do, but it was what she needed. If I was going to prove I was nothing like her dipshit ex, I had to put her first.
She was struggling. Not just from what he had put her through for years, but from the other night when he’d tried to force her to agree to another night. He was selfish, and it was imperative that she see that I was nothing like him.
Dressing in front of her as she stared at me in disbelief while I laid all my cards on the table, I could see that she felt unwanted. But nothing could be further from the truth. I wanted her so badly that I was willing to step back and let her sort out her emotional baggage. Sure, it could backfire and she might write me off for good, but I was willing to take that risk.
In the days following our late-night encounter at her place, she’d slipped back into her professional role, as did I. She asked her questions, and I answered. However, I did notice the tiny hint of animosity she held for me was notably absent.
That had to be a good sign, right?
Before, there was always a slight edge of irritation when she spoke, like she was annoyed that interacting with me was a necessary evil to do her job. Now, she was more neutral. I could spend hours overanalyzing what that meant, but I would likely drive myself insane.
So, instead, I focused on work.
We were heading out West to play the California teams, and I needed the Speed to be ready. That meant my time at the rink was used to prepare the team, and at home, I was immersed in film study until my eyes grew tired from staring at a screen for hours on end.
It would take some getting used to the fact that my nights were no longer my own in this new role. More hours working for less pay, but I wasn’t the talent. I was only guiding and preparing them.
Now, the only thing holding me back was my mind. It was difficult for my brain to grasp that I would never get another chance to gear up and play at the highest level. Even when I instructed my players during a game, coaching them how to respond based on the situation they faced, there was a nagging voice in the back of my head saying:I could have done it better. I would have reacted quicker.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t let go of unfinished business. I wasn’t sure enough time would ever pass to ease that ache.
As promised for their victory over the Comets, I bought the first round in the hotel bar once we landed in San Francisco.
It was possible that I had a hard time letting go of my career because I still felt like one of the boys. I stayed away from Pipes, but on the road, Iwent to team dinners when invited and grabbed drinks at the bar with my players during hotel stays.
Before my taking over at the helm of the Speed, a clear line had been drawn between the staff and players. I could honestly say that I’d never hung out with a coach over the course of my career. But Jared kept harping that they chose me because I was close to the players. So I wouldn’t let doubts nag at me that I was doing something I shouldn’t. If anything, it tricked my mind into forgetting the tragic events that had forced my retirement for a few hours.
Jenner and I were perched at a high-top table near the back, placing bets on which players would end up leaving with one of the plethora of bunnies who had recently arrived, looking for a night of no-strings sex as we passed through town.
This might be a new vantage point for me, but it wasn’t for my best friend.
Jenner had come into the league attached to his then-girlfriend, Evie, who now was his ex-wife. So he’d always been the quiet observer while the rest of us single guys picked up chicks. I had to say, it was interesting watching the guys work. Some were smooth—their flirt game was strong. Others made sure to buy a prospective bed partner a few drinks, not bothering with more than a flash of a credit card and mention that they were professional hockey players.
It really made me wonder whether I’d looked as ridiculous as they did. And was the sex really that good that women didn’t care about how shallow it made them seem?
There was no connection, no substance, just a string of meaningless hookups.
How had it taken me this long to realize that?
