Page 141 of Game Misconduct
“Yeah.”
“And then a long home stretch before Thanksgiving. And then the toy drive party.”
“You want to talk about work now? After what I just said to you?”
I flinch at the bitter disdain in his voice.
Sitting up a little straighter, I adjust the blanket over my legs. My heart pounds, but not for the same reasons it did a minute ago.
“I should go.”
“Sloane—”
“Maddox, I can’t do this right now.”
“Do what exactly?”
“Have this conversation. About us. Look, I shouldn’t have called.”
His silence is louder than a scream. I can practically feel him putting those walls back up through the phone.
“Good night, Sloane.”
I close my eyes against tears that threaten to spill over. Hedoesn’t call me princess and as much as I hated it at first, I’ve come to treasure it now.
But I can’t tell him that now. It won’t look genuine. So I respond the only way I can.
“Good night, Maddox.”
My phone screen goes dark, and I toss it on the floor.
The silence feels heavier now. My body’s still humming from the orgasm, but the end of that conversation left my chest too tight to breathe easy.
This was supposed to be about control. About owning the risk.
But I feel more exposed than ever.
I stare out the window for a long time, my bourbon empty, my phone dark.
This thing between us isn’t just dangerous. It’s unsustainable.
The woman who never loses is about to lose it all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Maddox
Practice endswith a clatter of sticks and a whoop loud enough to rattle my skull.
I yank off my helmet and roll my shoulder, the deep ache in the joint pulsing like a bastard.
Ice isn’t helping much lately, not when I’ve been logging thirty-plus saves a night and pretending I’m not one bad hit away from being on the injured list.
Still, we’re winning more than losing, and that means everyone’s cocky, loud.
Buzzing on the high of back-to-back road victories and the promise of heading home tomorrow with a near perfect October record.
But right now?
