I scrunched my brows. “What issue?” My voice trembled on the question.
I knew which issue. And just the thought of it, just the mere fact that he’d brought it up had a cold sweat breaking out on the back of my neck.
He took a step toward me, his body towering over mine as he lowered his voice. “You know what. Your fear of confined spaces.” His hand twitched at his side almost as if he were going to graze the back of it over mine but then thought better of it. “You told me you hated it. The fear. That it made you feel helpless.”
My heart raced in my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was the fact that he was talking about it or if it was just him. His scent swirled in my senses, the warmth from his body practically begged me to reach out and span the small distance between us. And those eyes? God, he was looking down at me with such hope and confidence, like he alone had the power to help me walk through this fear of mine and come out stronger on the other side.
“Let me help you,” he said. “Like I did that night.”
The memories flashed in my mind, an incomprehensible mixture of fear and desire. It churned and ached and throbbed inside me.
“That would only benefit me,” I said, shaking my head. “You’d be doing two things for me. What’s in it for you?” I asked, my voice breathless. God, I needed to take a step back. To breathe in air that wasn’t filled with him, but I couldn’t physically pull myself away.
“I get to spend time with you,” he said. That smirk of his shaped his lips, and heat flashed up the center of me.
“It could take…a while,” I said. “I’ve been to therapy. I’ve had this issue for years.” Ever since that game of hide and seek when I was ten. I shoved that memory down, having zero strength to revisit it right now. “It won’t happen overnight.”
“You’d be surprised how much I could change in one night.” He cocked a brow at me, and I swear my cheeks were on fire. “But I understand,” he said with more seriousness. “I don’t care how long it takes.”
Why? Was it just because he wanted to help me? For real? Or did he actually want to get to know me better? Or was it a combination of both?
The questions stormed through my head, right alongside the idea of spending that much time with him outside the arena. With his attitude toward Maxim—and him being my brother’s best friend therefore he constantly popped up around my house—it could get complicated super quick.
“If I agree,” I said, heart racing. “But I have a condition.”
“Naturally,” he said, a full smile on his lips now.
“No Maxim talk,” I said, and the smile fell off his lips. “Not unless it’s about you and him,” I clarified. “Because while I’m more than willing to hear that story when you’re ready to tell me, I will not become a median between you two. Loyalty is important to me. So is family. I’m not going to be the go-between with whatever is happening between you two.”
Something resolved settled into his features, and my stomach plummeted the longer he kept those gorgeous lips sealed. God, why did I have to put a stipulation on it? Why did I have to blow my shot at spending more time with the man who legit drove me bat-shit crazy and deliciously wild at the same time?
Because you don’t want to come between them.
Right.
“Fine,” he said, and I swear the breath I released was heard even downstairs in the locker room.
“Really?”
The smile was back. “You sound surprised,” he said, leaning one muscled arm on the wall next to us. The motion brought him another inch closer to me, and if I wanted—which I so didn’t—all I’d have to do was reach up on my tiptoes, and our mouths would brush. “And excited,” he added.
I kept my feet firmly planted on the floor and fastened him with a glare for good measure. “Oh, yes,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’m so excited to plunge myself headfirst into situations that literally incapacitate my body.” A tremble vibrated through my muscles. In truth, my therapist had been gently nudging me in this direction for a while. And the idea of doing it with him by my side? It didn’t seem as terrifying as I once thought. Why was that? Was it simply because I’d already been in one such situation with him before and lived to talk about it? Or did it have more to do with the connection I couldn’t deny pulsing between us?
“You don’t have to worry,” he said, his voice low and hushed between us. “I’ll take care of you, London.” He held my gaze for a few burning moments before he pushed off that wall and walked down the hallway.
Leaving me standing there breathless, aching, and this side of terrified.
“He wants to help you?” Savannah—my best friend and partner in crime—asked a few hours later as I sat across from her at her kitchen table. She also happened to be in the professional athlete career, having grown up with a dad who happened to coach the Raptors’ NFL team. She’d gone into contract management, and currently did so for Charleston’s MLB team, the Hurricanes. “Like…what? Take you to certain places and talk you through it?”
I shrugged. “I think so?”
It had been a couple weeks since his offer, and I was still mentally battling what would be the best course of action.
Savannah smiled, leaning back in her chair. “Hell, that doesn’t sound too bad to me,” she said. “If it helps you, then I’m all for it. I mean, you’ve been wanting to work on it forever. This condition might be the push you need.”
“I know,” I said, sighing. And how had he realized that from just that small encounter with me? Had it been that obvious? Or could he just understand me on a level I wasn’t used to? “And I agreed because I have to get him to stop trying to pummel his brother every other second…”
“But,” she asked when I hadn’t continued.
“But I don’t really know him that well.” And I hated the truth in that statement. I’d known Maxim for two years, sure, but he was nothing like Sterling. Maxim was all dark flames where Sterling was a bright, blazing light—almost like a star.
“You want to, though,” she said, eying me. “Know him better.”
I nodded. I’d never lied to Savannah, and I wasn’t about to start now. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since that night,” I admitted. “Not that I want anything from him. Honestly, the last thing I need is a relationship with someone on my team.” I shook my head. “But…friends? I wouldn’t mind that.”
Savannah looked at me like she might argue. Like she might call me out on what she could likely read in my eyes. That my thoughts toward Sterling were anything but friendly. Her phone rang, and she scooped up her cell, rolling her eyes as she answered the call.
“Yes, Maddox?” She had that professional tone she’d adopted since becoming the contracts manager for the Charleston Hurricanes—one of the hottest MLB teams in the nation. She shook her head. “No, absolutely not.” She sighed. “Because it’s an effort to get wives inserted into contracts benefits. I will not draft a loophole where your flavor of the week are allowed to travel on the team bus with you.”
I covered my laugh with my hand.
“The answer is no,” she said again. “You’ll thank me later.” She ended the call, and I raised my brows at her.
“Trouble at work?” I teased.
She set down her phone. “Pro-athlete life,” she said. “Maddox Porter lives to make my life harder.”
“Hudson’s brother?” I asked, recognizing the name from one of my players on the Reapers. He was making this season his last before he retired.
“Yes,” she said. “I thought Hendrix was a playboy,” she said, and I smiled at the way her eyes lit up saying her boyfriend’s name. “But Maddox makes Hendrix’s history look like a Hallmark movie.” She shook her head. “He had the audacity to ask for his contract to include dates on the bus.” She rolled her eyes. “Last week, it was for unlimited box seat tickets for home games for anyone he chooses.”
I laughed, sipping the tea she’d made when I’d come over. “Sounds like he’
s bored,” I said, and she nodded.
“He’s something,” she said. “The other players I’ve drafted contracts for haven’t given me nearly as much trouble.”
“What a life we live,” I said, but there was a smile on my lips. One of the things I loved about our lives were the challenges. The constant go-go mentality, the fast-paced, high stakes that came with working with professional athletes.
“Truth,” she said, clinking her mug against mine.
Her phone rang again, but this time her smile was wide and genuine, and it didn’t take me a second to figure out who was on the other end.
“Hey, handsome,” she answered the phone, and I tried to hide behind my mug. They’d had some rough patches recently, but had finally leapt over every hurdle that had been thrown their way. The love that radiated from her now was so bright it was nearly blinding. “I miss you,” she said.
Hendrix was at an away game for the Cougars, but they somehow made it all work—away games, paparazzi, her dad being his ex-coach, all of it.
I guess when it comes to real love, nothing seemed impossible.
“I’m glad you checked in,” she said, then set the phone on the table between us. I tilted my head at her when she pushed the speaker button.
“Of course, you are,” Hendrix said, his tone anything but speakerphone-approved. “You’re desperate to hear all the ways I’m going to worship you when I get home.”
“Babe,” she said, her eyes flying wide.
“First, I’m going to start with that dirty mouth of yours,” he continued without a hitch, and I flushed. “Second, I’m going to pin your arms above your head so you can’t move. Then I’m going to slide my huge—”
“You’re on speaker, Hollywood!” I shouted because the mortification of it was too much for me to bear. Savannah was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
Hendrix cleared his throat on the other end of the line. “Butterfly,” he said to Savannah, his tone teasing. “I know you like to play, but I didn’t realize we’d upgraded to a three-way phone situation.”
Savannah reeled in her laughter, sucking in a sharp breath. “I tried to tell you London was here,” she said. “You were too wrapped up in your fantasy to listen.”
“Can you blame me?” He laughed. “Hi, London.”
“Hi,” I said awkwardly.
“Why am I on speaker, Butterfly?” he asked.
“Right,” she said. “I wanted to ask you about Jansen Sterling.”
“You wanted to ask me about Sterling?”
“Yes,” she said. “Is he a good guy? I know you met him a while back. Or is he one of those we should be wary of?”
“We?”
Savannah rolled her eyes at his tone. “Hendrix Malone, you aren’t seriously jealous, are you?”
I rolled my eyes. The idea that Savannah would be thinking of anyone other than her lovestruck fiancé was downright comical.
“Never,” he said. “But a man has to clarify.”
“She’s asking for me,” I said, my tone shaky. “I have to work with Jansen on a more personal level for my position.”
“And you want to know if he’s an asshole.”
“I suppose I do,” I said, flashing a glare at Savannah. She shrugged, returning the look with a silent “oh, come on, you wanted to know” in response.
“I haven’t known him as long as Roman or Nixon,” he said, referring to his quarterback and running back best friends. “But everything he’s shown me points to him being a stand-up guy. He’s no angel, but none of us were in our rookie days—doesn’t matter if it’s football or hockey. Just saying.”
Savannah shook her head, a smile on her lips.
“You should be good,” he continued. “And not that you need the support,” he said. “I know you have your brother watching your back. But I’ve got it too. If he does get out of hand—"
“Thanks, Hendrix,” I cut him off, not needing to hear the threat to follow. I’d heard that plenty—too much—from my brother in the past. And while it warmed my heart to know that my best friend’s fiancé cared about me enough to say that, I didn’t want to make this into a bigger deal than it was.
Because it was just a means to an end, right? He was helping me, and in truth, I was helping him. These promo spots weren’t just about our direction this season on the Reapers, but highlighting where he was in his career. Which was increasingly climbing to be one of the best goalies the NHL had ever seen. That had to be the real reason behind his sudden bargain, but it was great to hear that Hendrix vouched for him nonetheless.
Savannah scooped up the phone, returning the call to private, and I waved to her as a silent goodbye. I did not need to be here for that conversation, having heard more than enough beforehand.
Though, as I drove back to my apartment, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have that kind of relationship. I’d had sex all of one time, and it was nothing to write home about, let alone have an intense, detailed conversation over the phone about. I mean, how would it feel to want someone so bad that they couldn’t wait to get home to you? So badly they had to start it up on the phone because they simply couldn’t stand to be without you?
A flush raked over my skin as I thought about Sterling and the way he’d haunted my thoughts since that night. How I’d been restless in my big, empty bed, tossing beneath my sheets with his dark blue eyes flashing in my head and his smell lingering in my nose.
We’d barely spent more than an hour of real time together, and I couldn’t stop.
What would happen when I saw him outside the arena? In close quarters nonetheless?
My heart raced at the thought, and the logical side of my brain told me to check myself. I was a professional—much like Maxim had said—and I had a job to do. This was the only way I could do my job, so therefore, I had to do it.
It had nothing to do with the way Sterling made me feel inside—like that passion I’d always stated as overrated could be real with the right person.
But thinking like that was dangerous, and I wasn’t one to walk that line.
No matter how fun it might sound.
5
Sterling
The best part of being a highly visible, professional athlete? I got special admission to Seven Wonders, Charleston’s brand new amusement park that had only opened a month before.
“How does this thing work?” London asked, glancing down at the lanyard around her neck that held a hard, plastic pass.
“That’s your quick pass!” Our bubbly attendant told us as we stood at the shaded VIP entrance. The blonde shot me a coy look as London flipped the little pass over. “It means when you find something you want to ride, you can skip the line.” She arched an eyebrow with meaning.
Some other year, I might have been tempted. It wasn’t in my nature to turn a good thing down, but my dick wasn’t interested, and neither was the rest of me.
“You walk right up to the front and tell them you’d like to get on.” She trailed a finger across her collarbone.
Damn, she wasn’t even being subtle about it.
London looked up and caught on quick, clearing her throat and moving a step closer so her shoulder brushed against my elbow. She was in sneakers, and I’d been right. She didn’t even reach my collarbone without her heels, and I wasn’t even thinking about the little scrap of white fabric she deigned to call shorts. They barely covered her ass. I knew because I’d looked.
A lot.
“Is there anything else I can…offer you?” The attendant smiled.
“I think we’ve got it. Thanks.” London’s eyes narrowed, and damn if that little display of jealousy didn’t go straight to my dick. “Shall we?” she asked me while looking directly at the blonde, then took my wrist and tugged.
I was laughing by the time we cleared the entrance.
“You’re lucky I saved you. She was ready to maul you in public,” London muttered as we walked through the light crowd that filled the shop-lined
street. Above our head, a roller coaster rushed by, carrying shrieking, happy riders.
“Who said I wasn’t up for being mauled?” I teased.
London rolled her eyes. “You can do way better than that. Trust me.” She pulled her mass of ebony hair into a top knot, leaving her sunscreen-clad shoulders to glisten in the sunlight. They were bare, with the exception of the two little straps of her tank top. “So what are we doing at an amusement park?”
I pulled my baseball cap backward and grinned. It had taken over a week for London to agree to this. “Well, first, I figured crowds probably don’t trigger you since you’re a game day coordinator for a professional hockey team.”
“True,” she said with a nod. “But I do appreciate you getting us in for the early hour.” She flashed me a smile, and my thoughts evaporated. Beautiful. She was exquisite, really. “So, what’s the plan?”
Plan. Right. I cleared my throat. “I thought we’d start with a little light restraint,” I nodded toward the entrance to a roller coaster.
Her eyes flared. “Restraint, huh?”
“From what I read, it can cause the same reaction as an enclosed space.”
She stopped, so I stopped with her, letting the crowd part around us like a rock in the middle of a rushing creek.
“What?” I asked.
“You read?” She lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head. “About claustrophobia, I mean. I know you read. You went to college. I know because it’s in your file. I’m going to stop babbling right now.”
Fuck me, she was cute. “Yes, I read, and feel free to babble all you want. I figured we’d just work our way up to what you’re uncomfortable with, and at any time you’re at your max and can’t take anymore, just tell me.” I shoved my hands into the pockets of my board shorts to keep from touching her. What the hell was wrong with me? I was never this needy, never had to physically remind myself to keep my hands off a woman.
Then again, I’d never wanted a woman like this before, either.
“So I just tell you that something is too much, and we’ll skip it?” She lifted her brows.
Sterling: A Carolina Reapers Novel Page 5