Chapter Seven

“I

left you alone for not even an hour! You were supposed to show the guys how dedicated you are!”

Laying his swollen hand in his lap, Scott tightened his grip on the steering wheel with the other and bowed his head, trying to look appropriately contrite as Stephan continued his lecture about what had happened at the gym.

The man had called him early that morning, again and again, leaving messages every time, reminding him how precarious his position with the team was. 5:00 a.m. had seemed insane, so Scott had tried to ignore him. But by 5:30 he couldn’t sleep anymore. Couldn’t set aside how badly he’d fucked things up for himself. He’d gotten dressed and snuck out of Zach’s house, leaving a note so the man wouldn’t think he was running out on him and Becky for something better. Because he wouldn’t get better. Didn’t want it if it was out there.

Stephan made sure all his shit was out of Vanek’s place, then dragged him to a bunch of stores the second they were open. Forced him to donate half his clothes to Goodwill, then spent most of the morning lecturing him on how he’d present himself from this point on. Sounded good, but when Stephan had left him at the gym, he’d kinda forgotten everything. Just gone with the flow. The guys had been cool, and Akira was a sweet little thing. Flirting with her had been a nice break, even though he knew nothing would come of it. Becky and Zach were still on his mind, and even as he played loose and relaxed, he couldn’t stop wondering how they’d take the note. Had he said too much? Not enough?

“You’re determined to make this difficult.”

Of-fucking-course.

Scott made a face as he drove himself and Stephan to the new condo the man wanted him to look at. If he wasn’t fucking someone, he was nothing but a goddamn problem. He hated summer. It wasn’t like he had anyone to visit besides his brother. And he’d never see his brother unless he had to. Because their relationship was one-sided. Something he’d accepted a long time ago. Jimmy never called unless he needed something. Which was fine, because Scott hadn’t been able to be there for Jimmy as a kid, no matter how hard he’d tried. They’d been in foster care together, but what good had that done? Scott had gotten all the attention from their foster mother, because he was “prettier” and “eager to please.” And Jimmy had hated him for it.

“I’d have a better life if someone had done for me what she did for you.”

Maybe Jimmy would. Or maybe he’d be even more of a wreck. Scott obviously wasn’t doing all that well, despite his advantages.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah. I’m an idiot. Something, something, something. I need to do better. Yadda, yadda, yadda.” Scott parked and slouched in his seat. “Oh, yeah. And I shouldn’t be fighting.”

Stephan groaned. “I’m not being paid enough for this. You do realize you’re not a fifteen-year-old boy, do you not? Fighting on the ice is one thing, but it’s ridiculous for you to be brawling with other players in a public gym.”

No shit? “Got it.”

Lips pursed, Stephan regarded him steadily for a few moments. “You never told me why you were fighting with Mr. Hunt.”

Scott snorted. Talking to Stephan reminded him of talking to his principal in high school. “Why can’t you get along with the other children, Mr. Demyan?”

“Because Hunt’s an asshole.”

As Scott got out of the car and headed toward the large, red wood and gold trim double doors of the condominium, Stephan clipped alongside him at a half run, barely able to keep up to his long strides.

“There has to be a reason, Scott.”

“Does there?”

“Yes. And if you tell me, perhaps I can work with it. Put a positive spin on the situation.” Stephan made a sharp, irritated sound. “Was Mr. Hunt doing or saying anything that would justify you attacking him?”

“Yep.”

“Would you care to elaborate?”

I am going to strangle this man. Why the hell couldn’t he let it go? Jaw clenched, Scott stopped short and glared down at his nosy fucking team-appointed babysitter. “Does it sound like I want to elaborate? Can’t you take a fucking hint? I get that I shouldn’t be fighting, and I promise I won’t do it again. Drop it.”

“I’m not here to make this pleasant for you, Scott. Please step aside.” Stephan’s eyes narrowed, and he stared at Scott until Scott let him pass. “I’m here to make sure you don’t lose your job. Which I can’t do if you won’t speak to me when things like this happen. Reporters will hear about this, and without some kind of statement from you, they will assume the worst. And so will Mr. Keane.”

“Let them. I’m not making a statement about this. That poor kid—” Scott scowled and snapped his mouth shut. He avoided Stephan’s expectant look as he stepped into the elevator. “I’ll talk to Keane if you want, but that’s it.”

“And what exactly will you say to him?”

“I’ll tell him why I gave Hunt a black eye.” The satisfying throb in his fist brought a smile to his lips. He clenched and unclenched it, snorting at Stephan’s disapproving frown. “And volunteer to give him another.”

*?*?*?*

“Oh. My. God. That was?.?.?.” Becky stretched, her head heavy as she shielded her eyes and found the clock by the bed. Almost noon. Sleeping in this late felt so deliciously naughty, right up there with sex and Belgian chocolates. She smiled as she leaned up on her elbow to look down at Zach. He slid his hand into her hair and pulled her down for a kiss. She moaned against his lips as her blood caught fire. “You’re corrupting me.”

“Not yet.” He tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. “But very soon.”

Letting out a low purr, she smoothed her hand over his chest. “Why not now?”

He nodded toward his night table. “Because your phone’s been buzzing for a while—and before you panic, it wasn’t Casey or Patrick. I would have woken you up.”

“Okay?.?.?.” The bed was so comfortable, and she loved being here with him, but she wasn’t sure she liked him choosing not to let her know someone had called. Even though he’d checked to make sure it wasn’t her daughter, it could still be important. She sat up, holding the blanket to her chest, turning her head so he wouldn’t see her frown. Maybe getting involved with a hockey player wasn’t such a good idea after all. Maybe he didn’t understand that she, unlike him, still had responsibilities year-round.

As she picked up her phone, he rose behind her and caught her wrist. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I need to—”

“A little honesty, pet.” He caught her chin and studied her face. “You’re angry.”

Her lips thinned as she pushed off the bed. “Actually, yes, I am. I enjoyed spending the night, but I have a job. Family. I don’t appreciate you deciding whether or not I need to take a call!”

The room was too dark and cozy. She strode up to the curtains, throwing them open to flood the room with blazing light even as she checked her phone. The number was unfamiliar, but there were several messages.

Listening to them had her even more aggravated. Scott’s image consultant wanted to meet with her to discuss a statement to downplay his “latest public stupidity.” Snapping her fist against her thigh, she spun around to glare at Zach. “Scott’s not here?”

“No. He left early this morning.” Zach stood and pulled on his jeans. While she dressed, he propped his shoulder against the bedroom doorframe, watching her. He didn’t speak again until she moved to walk by him. He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Becky—”

“What is it, Zach? I’m in a bit of a hurry. I can’t very well go represent the team like this.” She gestured to the rumpled jeans and T-shirt, utterly disgusted with herself now. This wasn’t like her. Running late, dressed all wrong, completely frazzled. I’m too old for this!

But then Zach looked at her, with his pale green eyes telling her before he said the words, how sorry he was. “You’re right. I screwed up, and I had no right to make that decision for you. This isn’t how I want things to be between us. I want us to fit into one another’s lives, not complicate them. I’m sorry.”

Damn it. If he’d done the typical man thing, apologizing just to shut her up, she could have walked out that door without looking back. But he meant every single word. She shook her head, fighting to hold back a smile. How could she stay mad at him?

“I forgive you.” She patted his scruffy cheek, then rose up on her tiptoes for a quick kiss. “Just don’t do it again.”

He chuckled, hooking his finger to the back of her jeans before she could skirt away. “One thing first.”

“Yes?”

His breath on the back of her neck stirred all the tiny hairs. His low voice in her ear made her breath catch. “You’re fucking sexy when you’re all worked up.”

She swallowed, suddenly not sure she really wanted to rush out. “I really shouldn’t be shouting at my Dom.”

“Ah, but it’s allowed when your Dom’s being an idiot.” His lips brushed the length of her throat. “You have a busy day ahead of you, but I’d like you to call when you have some free time. Let me know when you want me to help you paint.”

“It won’t be today.” She bit her bottom lip. Unless she skipped dinner and?.?.?. she glanced up at him over her shoulder. “Actually, I don’t have to—”

“No. Keep whatever plans you have, and I’ll do the same.” He lowered his hand to the base of her spine, nudging her forward. “I have a meeting with my agent tomorrow and my physical therapist. Does Wednesday work for you?”

Two days? Why did it seem so long? She wasn’t a teenage girl who absolutely had to see her boyfriend every single day. Spending all this time with him had spoiled her.

Letting out a long sigh, she nodded. “Wednesday would be perfect. My stuff is being delivered to the house, so you can help me bring it in. I’ll ask Scott if he wants to help too.”

“Or we can ask one of the other guys.”

Becky pressed her lips together. Scott taking off obviously bothered Zach. She glanced over at the sofa, grinning as she spotted a folded paper on top of the rumpled blanket. Flipping it open, she laughed and read it out loud. “‘Sorry I had to take off, my IC was on my ass. Call you later? Thanks for letting me hang out. Looking forward to doing it again.’ Wasn’t that considerate of him?”

“Yeah. Not like him at all.” Zach folded his arms over his chest, one brow arched. “I won’t tell you not to see him, if that’s what you choose to do, but please be careful. Once he has you—”

“He can’t have me.” Her phone buzzed again. She hurriedly pulled on her running shoes, blowing Zach a kiss as she checked the number. Scott’s image consultant. Again. She really had to stop stalling. Responsible adult, Becky. Pull yourself together. “Until further notice, I’m yours.”

“Until further notice?” Zach gave her a hooded look. “I like knowing that you’re mine. I take it that means there are limits to Scott showing how sorry he really is?”

“Absolutely.” She answered her phone and quickly asked the IC to hold for a moment. Then she winked at Zach. “And when you two make amends, I get to watch.”

*?*?*?*

The reporters hovered outside the conference room, reminding Scott of rats waiting for the cat to leave so they could pick up scraps of trash. Stephan was on his phone again, keeping a respectful distance so Scott and Keane could talk. Not being a fucking nuisance for once. Nice change.

“Stephan said that you refused to tell him why you fought with Hunt.” Keane’s lips curled with disgust as he glanced toward the open door. Another reporter had tried to slip in, only to be stopped by security. He waved for one of the security guards to close the door, then leaned forward, his voice low. “He said you were fine telling me. I suggest you do.”

Scott didn’t want to tell anyone. Some things should be private, but it didn’t work that way in their business. And unless Keane was a complete asshole, it didn’t need to go any further. Rolling his shoulders, he hooked a finger to his cardboard-stiff collar and stared at his shiny new shoes. “There’s this girl—one of the Ice Girls. She’s not comfortable with men, but me and her were chatting and she seemed okay. Until Hunt grabbed her and—”

“Akira?” Keane thrust his chair back, standing even as Scott nodded. “Good enough. I can’t say I approve of your actions, but—” A small smile crept across Keane’s lips. “You put him in his place?”

Well, fuck! Scott laughed, holding up his damaged hand. “Clocked him a good one.”

“Excellent.” Keane stroked his smooth chin, eyeing the door once again. “The only problem now is giving the press a story that won’t expose Akira or make you look bad. Is there a reason for the bad blood between you two? I assume Hunt didn’t make a move on Akira on impulse? He’s a hotheaded young man—immature, but not someone I could have pictured doing something like this.”

“Ah?.?.?.” Scott ran his fingers through his hair, not sure he wanted to make Hunt look better and himself look worse. But shit happened, right? “This chick Hunt had his eye on kinda ditched him for me.”

“Through no fault of your own, of course.”

Scott shrugged. “He was doing the whole roses and sweet talk thing. I just asked her if she wanted to fuck.”

“And naturally, she did.” Lips twisted with mirth, Keane came around the table, hands clasped at the base of his spine. “Stephan has been going on and on about finding you a woman, but I was reluctant to force you into a relationship just to make you appear stable. I’m starting to think it would be a very good idea.”

“Yeah, well, I said I’d take a look at his ‘list.’”

“A list? Are you telling me you can’t find a woman on your own to commit to?”

Becky. Scott shoved his hands in his pockets, thinking about the night before, watching a movie, not trying anything after his first blunt advances. He could picture himself with her, proudly telling the press and anyone who’d listen that she was his woman.

If only she wasn’t with Zach.

He refused to hurt Zach again, which meant he’d leave Becky alone unless the three of them?.?.?. only, even if the three of them found something, it wasn’t like he could be public about it. Hell, he wasn’t even sure Becky and Zach would be public about their relationship. People would assume Zach was using Becky as a cover. Which would be weird since he’d already come out.

Not an option. So what you gonna do now, Demyan?

“I don’t fuck girlfriend-types.” Scott winced, all too aware how shallow that sounded. “I just?.?.?. damn, I was all about having fun. I’m cool with choosing someone to go to events with or whatever. Professional arm candy works for me.”

“I have someone in mind. If she’s open to the idea.” Keane crossed the room at a soft rap on the door. He held it open to let a young woman in, frowning as she darted past security, tears glistening on her cheeks. “Sahara, are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” The tiny blond sniffled, then buried her face in her hands. “And I’ll take the job!”

Scott stared at her, then glanced over at Keane, his lips soundlessly forming the words “What the fuck?”

Keane held up his hand and shook his head. He pulled Sahara aside, his eyes narrowing as he spoke softly to her, too low for Scott to hear. At one point Keane’s gaze went to the long sleeves of the cream colored blouse Sahara was wearing. Then he pressed his eyes shut.

“Fine. But we will be speaking about this again, Sahara.” Keane handed her the black kerchief from his suit pocket, then turned to Scott, his eyes hard. “Sahara has agreed to join the Cobra Ice Girls. I’ve been looking for someone with experience to lead them, and she finally accepted my offer. I think she would be the perfect woman for you.”

A sweet, pink blush spread across Sahara’s cheeks as she dabbed away her tears. Eyes wide, she looked at Scott, then back to Keane, keeping a white-knuckled grip on the man’s hand. “I?.?.?. what?”

“Scott needs a young lady to accompany him to several events. And it will look good if he’s with the same woman on the cruise. It’s just for the press, and you’ve always been a media sweetheart.” Keane gently pried his hand free. “You have the job whether or not you agree, but I would consider it a personal favor if you could help our top sniper ditch his reckless, womanizing status.”

“You would?” Sahara nibbled her bottom lip, then approached Scott, studying him with her big blue eyes, long lashes clinging together with unshed tears. “You’re okay with this? I mean?.?.?. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I’m not ready for anything serious and—”

“Babe, if I was ready for something serious, I wouldn’t need Keane to set me up.” As a tear broke free, Scott lifted his hand to brush it away, then jerked it back at Sahara’s flinch. Fuck. Her ex had done a number on her. She was so tiny, and he’d always thought she was kinda cute when he saw her around the forum. He moved closer, slowly, taking in her perfectly applied makeup. Must be waterproof of something—her tears hadn’t even smudged it. But the skin tone around one eye was applied a little thicker. He could tell she’d covered a fading bruise. His jaw ticked. “Who was he?”

“You don’t know?” She let out a nervous laugh as her hand hovered over her throat. “No offense, but I don’t want to talk about it right now. The press is waiting for you, right?”

“Yeah.” I want a goddamn name. A tremor ran through him as he thought back on his time in foster care. One of his foster sisters had gotten just as good at covering up bruises when her boyfriend had decided it was fun to smack her around when he was pissed. Scott had been about thirteen when he’d gone after the eighteen-year-old with a baseball bat. His foster sister had shielded the bastard. At least Sahara was smart enough to get away from the asshole.

“Scott, you’re not listening to me.” She shook her head and snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Just follow my lead, okay?”

Before he could protest, Sahara gestured to Stephan, who opened the door. Letting out a bubbly laugh, she wrapped her arms around Scott’s waist. He blinked as cameras flashed, blinding him. Questions were shouted his way. A few of the male reporters shoved to the front of the crowd, and Scott’s protective instincts took over. He drew Sahara around the long table at the end of the room, pulling out a chair so she could sit between him and Keane. As he took the chair beside her, she offered her hand, right on the table for all to see.

He laced their fingers together, chuckling as he finally caught one of the questions being shot at them.

“Was I defending someone special?” He brought Sahara’s hand, clasped with his, to his lips. “Absolutely.”

“You can’t approve of your players fighting amongst themselves, Mr. Keane?” A mousy young man in an ugly brown suit shouted. “Will you be taking disciplinary action?”

“I will. Both men will be fined.” Keane smiled. “But I must be frank. I believe Mr. Demyan considers this lovely young woman worth whatever price he has to pay.”

More questions. Some of the reporters were eyeing Scott and Sahara suspiciously. One finally said what all seemed to be thinking. A woman with a pinched face and thin, blood red lips. She glared at Sahara with bare hatred. “You’re not a man known for long-lasting relationships, Mr. Demyan. Is this a publicity stunt? There’ve been rumors of you trying to improve your image.”

A dramatic gasp escaped Sahara. She blinked fast, putting on the performance of a lifetime as she withdrew her hand. “Is that true, Scott? Are you with me just so you can look good to them.” Her bottom lip trembled. “Is that all I am to you?”

Scott gave the reporter a cold look, then slid his hand around the nape of Sahara’s neck. They went quiet as he rested his forehead against Sahara’s. This was his last chance, and even after everything Sahara had gone through, she was willing to help him paint himself as a good guy. It was all for show, but damn it, the team, his life here, was worth putting on a good one.

What they needed to see between him and Sahara was something he didn’t really feel. He recalled high school drama class, his enthusiastic teacher explaining how to laugh, to cry, on cue.

“All you have to do is think on a time where you truly felt whatever emotion you want to portray. Bring it back. Relive it.”

He saw Becky, eyes flashing with defiance as she shoved him against a wall in front of her brother, her lips so hot and sweet as she kissed him.

In that moment, Scott had no other woman, or man, on his mind. All he could think of was how he didn’t want to let her go. He lowered his lips to Sahara’s, picturing Becky, putting everything he wanted to show her in the kiss. He gently eased away before she did, needing to see the dazed look in her beautiful grey eyes.

But the eyes that gazed up at him were blue.

“That?.?.?.” Sahara touched her lips, then ducked her head.

Not Becky. His lips twitched, but he remembered the act before he could ruin it and brushed a strand of corn silk blond hair behind Sahara’s ear. “Answers your question?”

“Oh, yes.” Sahara rested her head on his shoulder. “Can we go home now?”

“Home? Are you living with Miss Larose, Mr. Demyan?”

Scott opened his mouth, but Keane cut him off. “Thank you all for coming, but that’s all for now. Another press conference will be scheduled before the Ice Girls’ cruise and as you all know, both Miss Larose and Mr. Demyan will be attending. I believe we’ve answered all your questions.”

“If not, please feel free to call me for the official statement.” Standing in the doorway, Becky gave the reporters a broad smile, as though they were all great friends. But the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “The team will provide several opportunities for you to interview both the players and the Ice Girl contenders.”

Dismissed, the reporters filed out. Scott tripped over his chair and slammed his elbow into the table, cursing as he tried to catch up with Becky. She was already out of sight. He had to get to her. Make her understand.

He bared his teeth as Stephan cut in front of him right outside the conference room. “Move it!”

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” Stephan nodded to Keane, who left them without another word, then drew Scott aside. “That was perfect. Don’t screw it up by chasing after another woman.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? She’s going to think—”

“Ms. Bower is a professional. And a mother.” Stephan’s fingers dug into Scott’s forearm. “I’m sure she understands getting involved with you in any way would be a bad idea.”

Scott threw his head back, bitter laughter ripping out of his chest. “So I’m allowed to have a fake girlfriend, but not a real one?”

“If you had a girlfriend, why didn’t you say something?” Stephan groaned as Scott jerked away from him, holding out his hands in a calming gesture that didn’t help Scott at all. Stephan lowered his voice as several reporters lingered in the hall, probably hoping to get a good scoop. “Please, I’m begging you. Avoid getting involved in drama until the ink dries on your contract. Assuming you get one.”

After Stephan left, Scott returned to the conference room, closing the door so he and Sahara could have a moment alone. Sahara stepped up to Scott’s side and hugged his arm. “I’m sorry things are so messed up, but they’ll work out. You’ll prove you’re not the asshole everyone thinks you are. I’ll help you, and once you get your contract?.?.?.” She smiled up at him. “Becky’s a lucky girl.”

“Yeah.” Scott rubbed his hand over his face, Stephan’s words resounding in his skull like a hammer striking a gong. Getting involved with him would be a bad idea for any woman. Right now anyway. But what was the point of doing all this shit if it wasn’t to be better? To be the type of man Becky deserved. He ran his tongue over his teeth, then snorted. She already had that man. “You’re right. She is lucky. Zach’s an amazing man.”