Page 85 of Captain's Claim

She doesn't know. Shecan'tknow.

Can she?

Chapter Twenty

Blake

The final horn blares and I'm still riding the high of that last goal. My legs burn, sweat drips down my back, but damn if this doesn't feel good.

Two goals, three assists, and Chicago never stood a chance.

The locker room erupts as we pile in. Ryder's got Logan in a headlock, both of them fighting over shower privileges like overgrown kids.

"Get off me, rookie!" Logan shoves him away, but he's grinning. "I laid out three guys tonight. I earned first dibs."

"Yeah? Well my assist was pure silk!" Ryder ducks another grab from Logan.

Someone launches a towel across the room. It smacks Connor in the face, and he retaliates by throwing his gloves. The whole place descends into beautiful chaos – exactly how a winning locker room should feel.

I'm peeling off my jersey when I catch Coach Brody's eye. He's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, wearing thissatisfied smile. No speech. No critique. Just that look, like he's seeing straight through me.

I raise an eyebrow at him.What's his deal?

A heavy hand claps my bare shoulder, and I turn to find Eli standing there, looking like he just won the damn Stanley Cup himself.

"You're playing like a man possessed, Maddox. Been a while since I've seen you this focused." Eli's eyes crinkle at the corners, like a proud father. "Almost like you've got something – or someone – lighting a fire under you."

He winks at me and I shoot him a look, but can't hold back my grin. "Team's just clicking, man. Everything's... falling into place."

"Uh huh." He crosses his arms, unconvinced. "Nothing to do with that spitfire in marketing who's got you wrapped around her finger?"

"She doesn't have me wrapped around anything."

Sophia looked damn fine tonight.

After I left her at the hotel early this morning, my cock aching from a night spent buried inside her and my tongue damn near worn out from making her come on my face over and over again, she had the cheek to show up in this tight black pencil skirt that hugged every curve.

She paired it with some fancy white top that did things to my concentration during the pre-game talk. Her legs went on forever in those sky-high heels, and the way she leaned over the boards during warm-ups...

"Earth to Blake." Eli waves his hand in front of my face.

I shake my head, trying to clear the image of her red lips forming my name when she wished me luck. That fucking lipstick left a mark on my cheek all game.

That's going viral for sure.

"Dude, you're doing it again," Eli laughs.

"Doing what?"

"That face you make when you're thinking about her."

I grab my towel, hiding my grin.

"I don't make any face," I mutter, but Eli just laughs harder.

"Sure, kid." Eli chuckles. "Keep telling yourself that. But whatever's got you playing like this – don't fight it."

I shake my head, but warmth spreads through my chest. He's right. We're unstoppable right now.

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