Page 7 of Heart of a Defender

My fingers tighten around the phone, irritated women have to struggle so hard to prove their worth. Lauren comes face to face with some of the same issues in nursing. I’m lucky to have a job I’m passionate about without all the bullshit mind games.

As I scroll further down the page, the pieces of Madison’s past start to take shape. The heading, “The Athlete Who Tried to Break Me,” is an eye-opener.

***

Not long ago, I found myself entangled in a relationship with a high-profile athlete. On the surface, he was charming, confident, and seemingly supportive. But behind closed doors, a different story unfolded. He used his status to control and belittle me, eroding my self-esteem and making me question my worth. He dismissed my dreams and ambitions, making me feel insignificant compared to his achievements.

This relationship was a microcosm of a larger issue many women face in various aspects of their lives. The dynamics of power and control can manifest in different forms, but the underlying message is the same: “You are not enough.” This narrative is not only damaging but fundamentally untrue.

***

I’m seething by the time I reach the end of the article. No wonder Madison looks at me the way she does. She doesn’t name names, but I’ve encountered any number of overbearing, cocky, manipulating athletes on and off the ice. To her, I must seem like a carbon copy of the guy she described—another arrogant athlete who thinks the world revolves around him. But that’s not who I am. I need her to see that.

CHAPTER 4

CLOSE ENCOUNTER

***

Madison

Saturday evening, I arrive at the Sable Creek Community Center, where the Saints are hosting the charity event Zach invited me to. The place hums with activity––kids running around, parents chatting, and volunteers manning booths. As Zach’s guest, I’m here to enjoy myself, not cover the event for the paper. But I have a feeling what’s happening here is very much part of my job assignment. There’s something Zach wants me to see that’s personal to him.

I scan the crowd, looking for familiar faces. My heart skips a beat when I spot Zach near the raffle table, surrounded by fans and kids eager for autographs. He seems different off the ice—less guarded, more approachable.

His hockey uniform doesn’t do him justice. Though I’ve seen him in street clothes before, he’s usually on guard. But not today.

His fitted navy blue t-shirt highlights his broad chest and well-defined abs. Even at rest, his muscles are taut and prominent. The fabric stretches across his chest, emphasizing his solid core as it tapers to his waist. His jeans leave nothing to the imagination. Thick, muscular thighs bulge against the confines of the denim, powerful and built for speed and agility.

I breathe in a shallow breath as my pulse quickens. The man’s both intimidating and incredibly attractive. My eyes dart to his face before anyone catches me ogling. His tousled dark hair flops over his forehead, softening the hard line of his angular jaw. The contrast between his rugged good looks and the softness of his interactions with the children makes my heart swell with joy and a teensy bit of lust, if I’m honest.

As soon as my breathing stabilizes, I head over to where Zach kneels at eye level, listening to a little boy. The child excitedly shows him a drawing, and Zach listens with genuine interest. His broad smile lights up his face and that of the small child. He’s so open and unguarded, unlike how he’s been at the arena.

As I approach, Zach looks up, and our eyes meet. For a moment, I see a flicker of something—a hint of raw emotion. My stomach flutters, and a wave of warmth flashes through my body. The intensity of his gaze sends a thrill through me, bouncing from my lungs to my heart, to my most secret of places.

“Madison,” he calls out, his voice filled with warmth and a smile to match. Heat creeps up my cheeks as he waves me over. “Come join us.”

I’m drawn to him as if by some invisible force. It’s a powerful, undeniable pull, a connection between us that I can’t put into words. But I realize my feelings for the man have long passed that of a professional nature, and there’s no turning back.

“I hoped you’d come.” Zach rolls the little boy’s picture into a scroll as he stands. He drops his gaze, and I feel the weight of his stare on every curve, wrinkle, and dimpled pore of my exposed skin. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks.” My cheeks flush hotter. They must be as bright as a cherry tomato by now. I look around the room for a distraction. “Looks like everyone’s having fun.”

“Yeah, it’s great to see so many people here.” His eyes never waver from me, whether he’s staring at my eyes, my lips, or lower.

I gulp. Is he checking me out?

“What exactly is the charity for?” I focus on something else, avoiding a bout of nervous sweat.

“We’re raising funds for the local children’s hospital. The cancer ward specifically.” His voice softens. “They’ve been struggling to get the equipment they need, and we’re trying to help out.”

I’m betting now more than ever, Zach’s family has been affected by cancer.

“You must be proud to be part of something like this.” I’m genuinely impressed, but not sure if mentioning my boning up on his family’s history is a good idea. I don’t want to spoil the moment for him.

“It’s not about pride. It’s about doing what’s right.” He shrugs, a bit uncomfortable. “I don’t do this to boost my ego. It’s about the kids.”

We stare at each other momentarily, an awkward silence hanging between us. I can’t help but feel like there’s something he isn’t saying. A string of tension bubbles under the surface between us. I want to bridge the gap, to understand him better, but I don’t know where to start.

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