Page 14 of Madden

I gasp in shock and poke him in the chest. He's forced to take a step back, surprise registering on his face before his eyes narrow.

"What the hell are you doing here? How did you know where to find me? You were waiting for me to come down, which tells me you knew exactly where I was." As I spoke, I backed him into a pillar. "Start talking before I start screaming!"

He swipes at my hand. "Your mother told me to come get you." He straightens his blazer. "She thinks you should be with me and not some hockey player."

Wanting to yell anyway, I shut my mouth before I make a scene. Instead, I say, "Stay away from me before I report you for stalking."

My eyes search for Madden, but not seeing him, and needing somewhere to escape, I hurry back into the elevator. I frantically push the buttons when I realize he's coming for me. One hand clamps over my mouth and another around my waist. I open my mouth to scream for help and feel my limbs turn to noodles.

My world goes dark.

My head hurts badly—thefirst thing I notice when I wake up. My throat is dry as sand and my body aches. I lick my dry lips, but it doesn't help. I force my eyes open slowly, afraid of what I'll see, for my memory is there, only fragile.

Wincing, my eyes focus on the clothes hanging in the open closet. They are mine. Panic builds as I quickly run my hands down my body. To my great relief, I'm fully clothed, except for my shoes. Where is Madden? I wonder as my eyes scan the room.

Daylight is streaming into the room, causing me even more stress. It had been evening when things had gone to hell.

I roll out of bed, grimacing as my head pounds with each step I take. My stomach feels uncomfortable but settles as I slowly sip cold water from a fresh bottle from the mini fridge.

The purse I'd used the night before sits on the nightstand. Wincing with every step, I pick it up. The weight is different. My phone is gone.

I rifle through my travel bag and find a box of Advil. I empty two pills into my hand, swallow them with a little water, and sit back on the bed, waiting for them to work. I don't get the chance because there's a loud banging on the door. A voice shouts through the door and makes me move. I open the door for Bradford. His eyebrows knit together as he looks me over. "What's going on? You look bad." He winces. "I don't mean?—"

I hold up a hand. "I know what you mean. Somebody knocked me out." I burst into tears and end up crying on the man. My tears soak into his shirt.

He lets me cry it out and then I tell him about Ralph and that I didn't meet Madden.

Turns out Madden didn't show up for practice, so Bradford came looking for him.

13

MADDEN

My head feelslike it's going to explode, and my mouth is dry as hell. I groan and bury my head in the pillow. I have no idea how I got this way, but I feel like I have the worst hangover in the history of hangovers.

I remember going out last night. At least I think I did. I'm completely fuzzy on the facts and who I was with. Why the hell can't I remember?

A moan next to me makes me hold my breath as I lie motionless, my heart beating like a drum in my chest.

When I feel the touch of a woman's hand on my ass and hear a voice say, "Morning," in a deep, sultry voice I don't recognize, I shoot out of bed and stumble over what appears to be my clothes and shoes.

I curse and struggle to regain my balance. Seconds later, I'm praying to the porcelain gods. I rinse my mouth out and grabbing another bottle of water from the fridge, I drink it down. Feeling a little better, I rest my hands on the vanity in front of me and stare at my reflection. I see exhaustion and confusion in the gaze staring back at me.

The hotel room is unrecognizable, and the woman's voice is vaguely familiar. As I concentrate on breathing, I try toremember what happened last night. No matter how fuzzy my memory is, I know that the woman in the other room is not Tessa. I hang my head, trying desperately to remember. Why am I here and not with Tessa? I'm not an asshole with women. I never have been. My parents raised me better than that.

Falling in love with Tessa tells me something is wrong. I would never betray her with someone else.

I look down and sigh in relief that I'm wearing my boxers. I rub my chest and head for the bedroom.

My shoulders tighten as I recognize the woman. "Davina, what the fuck?!" I yell in anger. "You fucking drugged me." I approach her and she jumps out of bed, quickly wrapping a sheet around her body.

I follow.

"You have two fucking seconds to tell me what happened and where Tessa is." I pause to think. "Otherwise, you can tell the cops.” Shocked at myself, I add, "Actually, I think I'm going to call the cops anyway. I know I didn't get here on my own. There is no way in hell I would want to be anywhere near you.”

Davina is no longer cowering in the room. Her eyes narrow. Her face twists with anger. She straightens her spine, and then her steely gaze meets mine. "You came to my room willingly. How else could I have brought you here?" She grins.

Needing to get out of here before I strangle the woman, I quickly get dressed. The fact that I've probably missed practice doesn't bother me as much as it should, as more and more things come back to me.

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