Page 37 of Enticing the Enforcer
Doctor’s orders keep me from responding. I rest my vocals for two hours after each show. And truthfully, I have no way to answer the question. I was just filled with new energy. A desire to bring it all onto the stage. I kept thinking about Jefferson and the team, how they owned that game.
I want to own my game, too.
Back at the hotel, I limp straight to the recovery room. The trainers are already waiting with a professional level set up. There’s an ice bath, a massage table, and a doctor ready to tape and check the blisters on my feet. Glamorous, right? This is the part no one sees on stage.
My phone buzzes right as I lower myself into the tub, a hiss escaping through my teeth. The trainer holds up the phone, and Jefferson’s name lights up the screen.
Like a teenage girl, I yelp, wave for it, and accept the video call.
His handsome face appears on the screen, those sharp cheekbones carving up the screen. “Hey–wait, where are you?”
“Ice bath.” I punctuate this with an exhale. “Post show recovery.”
“Wow, that’s hardcore. We have the same thing at the arena.”
“Told you I was tough,” I reply, trying not to flinch when the cold water bites at my skin.
“Never doubted it, Angel.”
I’m smiling, even though my teeth are chattering. “So, what’s up?”
“So this statement about us…”
My stomach drops. “Oh god, you saw it.” I press my hand over my face. “I just told Madison to smooth things over. Hopefully it didn’t cross any lines.”
He chuckles, low and unbothered. “I guess there are worse things than being called the ‘The handsome enforcer that led his team to a Frozen Four Victory.’”
“Wait, read it to me.”
Jefferson’s lips quirk as he scrolls through his phone. “You ready?”
“Hit me.”
“‘Is Ingrid Flockton Off the Market? Frozen Four Sparks New Romance Rumors,’” he begins. “‘Speculation has run wild since international pop star Ingrid Flockton made a surprise appearance at the Frozen Four in Chicago last weekend. Fans weren’t sure if she was there for a friend, family, or something more. Those questions heated up when Flockton was spotted at Wittmore’s Victory Party, where she hit the dance floor with Jefferson Parks, better known asthe handsome enforcer that led his team to a Frozen Four Victory.’”He emphasises the last line and gives me a wink that threatens to warm me up in the cold bath. He continues. “‘Seeing them together, you couldn’t miss the sparks,’ a source at the party shared. ‘They weren’t hiding it—they looked like they were in their own world.’ So… are they an item? Did Parks take home more than the trophy?’”
I wrinkle my nose. “Oh jeez. Is the rest of the team mad you were singled out like that?”
He shakes his head. “Not mad. Jealous probably. They’re all petty bitches.”
“That is not what we sent in,” I say quickly, cheeks burning even though he can’t see me. “So don’t get a big head. They embellish everything for clicks.”
“You sure?” His voice turns cocky, that grin growing wider in my imagination. “Because every time I talk to you, my head gets bigger.” His eyes darken. “At least the one in my pants.”
I nearly slip in the tub. “You did not just say that.”
“I think I did.”
I groan, but the sound melts into laughter before I can stop it.
“Time,” Carlos calls. I’d forgotten he was here.
“Thank god. Hold on.” I set the phone face down and let Carlos help me out of the tub. Cold water rushes down my body. My skin is pink, but I feel invigorated, and a moment later I’m wrapped in a warm robe and led to my suite. Once I’m alone, I open the video again.
“Better?” he asks.
“Yes.” There’s a covered plate, and I carry it over to a cozy chair. Propping my phone on my water bottle, I open the lid, revealing my dinner. The next thing he says surprises me.
“You were incredible tonight.”
