Something So Irresistible (Something So Series Book 3)

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Something So Irresistible (Something So Series Book 3) Page 4

by Natasha Madison


  “Hey, I was looking for you,” I say to him and his head doesn’t come up. He’s wearing the same baseball hat that he had on yesterday, and he didn’t shave this morning.

  “Well, you found me,” he says to his food and not me.

  I look around and see that it’s slowly starting to get busy. “I wanted to just say that I’m sorry for jumping the gun yesterday. I should have listened to your side before I said anything.” I trail off because his eyes shoot up, and they are as bloodshot as mine are.

  “Forget about it,” he says, his voice gruff. “In the end, you did what you’re paid to do.”

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” I try to say, but he laughs.

  “We aren’t off to anything. How about this? You stay out of my way and make sure we never have to work together.” His tone is hard.

  “We work together. We will be traveling together.” I cross my arms.

  “We don’t need to be friends,” he says, finishing off his plate. How he could finish that heap in five minutes is beyond me. “You do your thing, let me do mine. I won’t assume you’re always a bitch and you can assume I’m not always an asshole. How’s that?”

  I grind my teeth together. “Fine,” I say, storming out. “Not always an asshole. His middle name should be asshole,” I say to myself, walking into my office and closing the door, leaning on the back of it. “I’m going to do my thing and have him do his. I can do this.” I go to my desk and do just that, my job.

  Chapter Six

  Max

  The minute I walked out of the house, I thought I was going to punch the side of her fucking house. I knew the minute I sat down in the car and Doug said we were going to Allison’s it would lead to this, to her expecting me to be the fuck-up. And, well, she didn’t disappoint. I would have let her go on and on, but Doug didn’t let her.

  I get to the car that Steve, who is Denise’s co-worker at the hospital, is driving. As soon as I saw the car coming down Allison’s street, I bailed out the door and made it down the steps and to the car. Steve stops the car and Denise jumps out, running to me with tears down her face.

  “I’m so sorry, Max.” She sobs out in my chest while I hold her head and kiss her forehead. “I didn’t even think.”

  “It’s fine. Let’s get in the car so we can get the fuck out of here.” I walk to the car, getting in the back with her, where she curls at my side as she silently cries. “Hey, Steve, thanks for picking her up.”

  “Yeah,” he says, pulling away from the curb and making his way to my apartment. “Figured you could use the ride.”

  Denise slowly peels her head from my shoulder. “What happened in there?”

  “Nothing. They asked me questions about what happened. Luckily, Charlotte told her brother that the guy has been in there all day drinking and leaving to go smoke or whatever. So they gave me a warning to stay out of trouble. It’ll blow over,” I say.

  “I called Doug as soon as they took you away,” Denise says. “I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

  “It’s fine. Doug was okay about it. My PR girl not so much,” I say, looking at the entrance to my loft and seeing that there aren’t any news vans there waiting, which is a good sign. “No news vans. Maybe she actually did her job instead of bitching,” I say to myself as I get out of the car. Steve parks in the visitor parking spot and they follow me inside.

  “What do you mean?” Denise asks me.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I say when I walk into the kitchen and grab a water bottle out of the fridge.

  “It matters to me.” She gets on the stool in the kitchen.

  “She started throwing my rap sheet in my face.” I shrug my shoulders. “Nothing I haven’t heard before.” I lean back on my counter, crossing my feet.

  “You’ve never brushed it off before.” She points at me. “You usually rant and rave about it.”

  I take off my cap, running my hands through my hair. “Maybe I’m maturing,” I say, crossing my arms.

  “Maybe.” Denise eyes me and then turns to Steve. “You think you could drop me off at home?”

  Steve just nods.

  “I think I need to sleep for a week and then I might feel human again.” She gets off her stool and comes over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “You’re the good guy.” She leans up and kisses my cheek. “Don’t forget that.”

  “Yeah, well, once you fuck up, it’s hard for people to see that good in you.”

  “Hmm.” She grabs her bag and Steve guides her out.

  I finish my bottle of water and grab my phone to see what mess I got myself into. When I see Twitter the hashtag throws me off #mykindaguy.

  The team made an official statement, which I know is one that Allison had to type up. It is basically me as a knight in shining amour. It’s been retweeted over a thousand times, and the hashtag is now trending. I shake my head and check my email, seeing one from Allison. I scoff while reading it. Sorry my fucking ass. Only reason she’s sorry is that she isn’t right. I throw my phone down before I send her a simple fuck you email.

  I’ve never cared if someone liked me, spoke about me, or thought I was a thug. I didn’t give a shit, but when she looked at me and threw my rap sheet at me without knowing, it burned all the way to my soul. I stood, ignoring her eyes or the look of disgust. The minute I saw Steve, I bounced. I didn’t give a shit. It’s been two days and she’s already getting on my last fucking nerve.

  I peel off my shirt and toss it in the basket. I’m probably holding all this pent-up frustrations because I haven’t fucked in such a long time. That is what I need, to fuck. I grab my phone, knowing I can have someone here in ten minutes, but the sane part of my brain tells me to put the phone down and fuck it. I toss my phone, closing off my alarm for the next day. No way am I going to work out tomorrow, at least not at the rink. Then I think about it. Fuck her, fuck them, and their condescending shit. I’ve paid for my mistakes tenfold and I refuse to make them run me off. Not this time.

  Tossing and turning all night, the only thing I see when I close my eyes are her eyes. I give up finally at four a.m., get up, and go to the gym. Go in early, get home early. Maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to see her. Maybe. I spend three hours on the ice, by myself. In my own zone. I work on my skating, my stick handling, my shooting. By the time I skate off, my body is soaking with sweat.

  “You got here early,” Luka, the goalie, says to me, putting his bag down.

  “Yeah, couldn’t sleep so thought I’d come in.” I toss my helmet on the top shelf. I peel my jersey off, tossing it into the basket in the middle of the room. I sit down with just my pants on and bend over, taking the tape off.

  “Jesus fuck, how much did you grow this summer?” Luca takes in my chest and arms.

  “Not that much.” I smile at him and toss my tape at him. “Knew you’d be slacking, so I had to pick up the pace.”

  “Slacking my fucking ass.” He gives me the finger and goes out to find the trainer.

  I end up in the shower by myself, which suits me just fine. Getting dressed in my workout gear, I throw my hat on and make my way to the kitchen, knowing the food is being cooked by the smell lingering in the halls.

  I fill up my plate, a mountain of eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast. I sit down and I’m about to take my first forkful when I hear her voice.

  “Hey, I was looking for you.”

  I don’t even bother looking up.

  “Well, you found me.” I put a forkful of eggs in my mouth.

  “I wanted to just say that I’m sorry for jumping the gun yesterday. I should have listened to your side before I said anything.” She trails off because my head snaps up and I’m about to tell her to fuck off, but Denise’s voice is in my head. You’re the good guy. I look at her eyes and see that she isn’t bright-eyed this morning.

  “Forget about it,” I finally say. “In the end, you did what you’re paid to do.”

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

/>   I laugh at her. Got off on the wrong foot. That’s a fucking joke.

  “We aren’t off to anything. How about this? You stay out of my way and make sure we never have to work together.” Much better than telling her to fuck off.

  “We work together. We will be traveling together.”

  I cross my arms.

  “We don’t need to be friends,” I say, taking the last forkful. I ate so fucking fast my stomach is throbbing. “You do your thing. Let me do mine. I won’t assume you’re always a bitch and you can assume I’m not always an asshole. How’s that?” I throw my fork down.

  She grinds her teeth together. “Fine.” She storms out.

  “She is so hot,” Ryder says, sitting down next to me with his own plate while I pick up my plate and am just about to walk away when he adds, “What I wouldn’t do to get a piece of that.”

  My plate slams down hard, making everyone look back at us. I lean in close to his ear. “Have some fucking respect. That’s your captain’s sister.”

  His face turns a pale white, his head going up and down nodding. I make my way out of the kitchen, vowing to avoid her like the plague.

  And for two weeks, it works out perfectly. I know she’s around, but I go the other way when I see her, till the first preseason game when I have no choice. It’s a home game and we leave tonight right after we face Toronto. I walk into the arena with my bag over my shoulder. I’m texting Denise when I bump into someone. I don’t have to look up to know it’s her. I smell her. Her hands go up against my chest, the heat of her palms soaking through my shirt.

  “Sorry,” she says to me and I make the mistake of looking at her. Her tight skirt hugs her like a skin. She pairs it with a see-through white button-up shirt with a silk cami under it. A black tiny belt ties around her waist.

  “Yeah, my fault,” I say, going around her and walking away from her. I don’t have time for this shit now. I walk into the room and look around. Half of the regular team isn’t here as they are still lying with the rooster.

  Phil and Matthew walk in. They will both be on the ice tonight, but I’m the only one going on the road trip. I dump my bag and get in the zone. We are all dressed and ready to take the ice when Coach Dan comes in with Doug and some of the coaches and my eyes land on Allison. She has put on a jacket now with polka dots. Her blue heels complete the outfit. I shake my head and put my gloves on my stick and listen to them tell us to go out there and have fun, no stupid tricks since it’s not a real game, but let’s face it, no one wants to lose.

  We line up as the music starts and we bounce on our skates, waiting to finally take the ice. This is my year, my fucking time. I just need a chance to prove it.

  Chapter Seven

  Allison

  It’s not even the big opening day game and I’m a nervous wreck. I had to make sure I put on my bra, then I forgot my phone five times. I walk down the hall, trying to shake out the nerves, and run smack into him. Him. There is no need to say his name because we aren’t talking about him. Him who is the bane of my existence. Him who I go out of my way to avoid. Him who fucks with me even in my dreams. HIM. I smack into his chest, his hard chest. My hands go up and I feel his heart under my hands.

  “Sorry,” I mutter, looking up only for him to just say yeah and walk around me. See, asshole. That is why we aren’t talking about him.

  Now here we are five minutes before they skate on the ice, almost three hours before we can start loading the bus. My first time going away. I have about a million Post-it notes all lined up in my office. I stand here almost in the corner, watching the guys get up and start to walk out to the ice. If I thought they were big before it’s nothing like when they are on skates. Matthew walks in front of Phil, who is in front of him. He motions for me to come to him, so I do.

  “Squirt, remember that time in peewee when I used to put my glove in your face for good luck?”

  “Matthew, I will fucking put Nair in your shampoo if you put that nasty glove in my face,” I threaten him while I look up at him and Phil just pushes him ahead.

  “Don’t worry, squirt, I’ll look out for you.” He smiles at me.

  “Are we not playing a fucking game?” Max walks past us.

  “Ignore him, he gets pissy on game day.”

  “Well, what excuses does he have for every other day?” I ask under my breath.

  Phil laughs out loud. “Fuck if I know.”

  Fans erupt in cheers, so I know the guys are on the ice. I go to my office, making sure all my things are in order for when we check in. No one has crazy demands, but then again the big guns aren’t going.

  I make my way up to the team lodge, showing them my badge, and then walking in.

  “Auntie Allie.” My niece Franny runs to me, jumping into my arms, and wrapping her arms around my neck. “You so pretty.” She leans closer. “Did you bring lip-gloss?”

  I kiss her cheeks. “No, but how about you come to my office after and make me a picture I can put up?”

  She nods.

  “Where is my little Vivi?” I ask, looking around for my little niece.

  “She stayed home because it’s too loud,” she says and wiggles herself to go down and join her brother Cooper.

  “Hey there, my little man, where is the love for your aunt?” I say, bending to hug him. “Did you guys go downstairs and see them skate?”

  They both shake their heads. I look over to see my sister-in-law Karrie talking to her father.

  “Hey, I’m going to bring the kids down to see Matthew,” I say and she nods.

  We walk down the hallway, both of them holding my hands, and we go down the stairs to the glass around the boards. Cooper stands near the glass, slapping it when he sees a couple of players he knows and they smirk at him. I lift Franny up and hold her on my hip as I point at Matthew.

  “There is Daddy,” I say and she yells Dada, but just then Max skates in front of her.

  Cooper slaps the glass, yelling Max’s name. He looks at Cooper, gives him a high five on the glass, and then looks over at Franny, who hides in my neck. He winks at her and shakes his fingers, telling her hello. She smiles at him, and I smile at her. My eyes meet his for the first time in two weeks. It’s for a split second, a blink of an eye, but it’s enough for my stomach to fall. I don’t have time to think about anything because Matthew finally comes to the side of the glass where he leans down and points at Cooper and then blows kisses to Franny, the press capturing everything. Both of them are wearing Grant jerseys, so there is no mistaking that these are his, and well, they look exactly like him. Poor kids. The buzzer sounds, telling us that the Zamboni is going to come on, so we make our way back to the lodge where they tell their mother about seeing their daddy.

  I take my spot beside Karrie, who has Franny on her lap as Cooper sits with Doug. No doubt telling his grandfather all about his hockey moves.

  “So you ready for the travel?” she asks me and I look away from the ice. “No, not even fucking close.”

  “That’s a bad word,” Franny says.

  “Oops.” I put my hands to my lips. “No, I’m not. I have seven backup plans in case the first six mess up. Seven.”

  “It’ll be fine. As long as they have a bed to sleep in, they don’t care.” She holds a bag of chips in her hand and Franny eats them one at a time. “I got the memo for opening day. You are going all out there this year. I heard you’re trying to get Jay Z to come and sing.”

  I smile. “Well, he did say he bleeds blue, no?” I look over at the bench, seeing the players that aren’t starting take their seat. The five starting players get ready. Matthew is center with Phil on one side and Max on the other. They each skate in a circle around their position. The two star defensemen Jamie and Peter are starting also with Luka between the pipes. Toronto looks ready to rumble and Matthew takes his place as the referee is getting ready to drop the puck and then the music dies and the puck hits the ice.

  He wins the faceoff right away, knocking it to Phil, who
tries to skate around the forward in front of him, but he loses the puck with a poke check. The young Toronto center man jumps over Matthew’s stick to intercept the pass, but Max is one step ahead of him, blocking him from even skating forward. Rookie doesn’t see Max and literally bounces off him. The whistle blows and the fans are on their feet while Matthew starts arguing with the ref when he wants to call Max for a penalty, but he doesn’t do anything because the linesman comes in and explains what happened.

  The change shifts and Dan puts on two other people but keeps Max on there. I see Max talk to the rookies that he is playing with. He says something and they all agree and then the next second he loses the face-off, but then Deegan blocks it at the defense line, passing it straight to Max’s blade. It lands with a tock you hear echoed through the building. He looks like he’s running on the ice, but he’s just that fast. He ducks away from the defenseman, going right when he thought he would go left and then just slaps it in from the blue line. Perfectly aligned to land over the goalie’s shoulder and bouncing in the net. The fans get on their feet. Max points at the two rookies while they skate to him and celebrate. They all skate to the bench, high-fiving everyone while we stand on our feet and cheer. The rest of the game is the same. Nothing could stop us and we end up winning five to zero, giving Luka his first shout-out.

  When the game finishes, Doug helps Karrie carry the kids to the car with promises to meet for lunch as soon as I’m back. I go downstairs, grabbing my two bags, and lugging them to the bus. I’m waiting for the guys to start loading the bus as I update Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. I look through the photos taken tonight, finding a couple of Max and posting this with his hashtag #MadMax13.

  It takes them about an hour to get in the bus. I sit here in the front with my computer on my lap, putting all the pictures on a USB for a later date. I check my watch and see that it is almost eleven-thirty by the time the coach and Max get into the bus. His hair is still wet, but perfectly groomed. The smell of his aftershave lingers to me. He sits across from me next to the coach, puts his earphones in, and watches something on his phone. I close my computer, storing everything for when we arrive at the airport some fifteen minutes later. I get up as soon as the bus stops, or at least I think the bus is stopping only to jerk forward one more time as I stand in the aisle. I’m ready to go crashing through the window, but two hands hold on to my hips, stopping me from moving. I look down to see his fingers while my heart hammers in my chest.

 

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