Page 41 of Game Misconduct

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The dread coils low in my gut anyway.

I lean back and close my eyes against the light of the monitors.

Unbidden, Maddox’s face fills the darkness behind my lids.

But it’s not his press conference glare or the goalie’s mask of indifference.

It’s the man in the hallway, heat and shadow, closing the space between us until I could barely breathe.

My chest tightens. I hate that it felt good.

This is dangerous. Attraction is risk.

And risk gets exploited.

I bite the inside of my cheek, hard, chasing pain to push the thought away.

I am not that woman. I am the owner of this franchise. I don’t blur lines.

But the memory clings, stubborn and electric as static under my skin.

And the truth, the one I won’t say out loud…

Maddox unsettles me.

Not because he’s a mistake I can’t afford,—but because some traitorous part of me doesn’t want to shove the mistake aside.

When I open my eyes, I pull up the PowerPoint I’ve started called “The Lasker Dossier.”

I click through the slides, crisp bullet points summarizing the day.

Riley: Chaotic, media gold.

Finn: Unpredictable, likable, but could possibly be media nightmare. Keep eye on.

Cal: Green but salvageable with the right mentorship.

Logan: Prince of PR

Beau: Warm, approachable, possible mentor for Cal?

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