Page 9 of Reckless On Ice

“This isn’t a request. You both need representation. I’ve been your agent for years, and I’m the best in the business. You could find someone else, but we have a contract, and you’d each owe me millions if you decided to leave now.” He turns his intensity on Knox and points a finger his way. “On top of that, Knox, this is a negotiation year. I know you want to stay with the Condors for at least a few more seasons, and I can get you the contract you deserve to retire with. You’re going to take Ryder in and teach him how to behave as part of this service, and by the end of the season, we’ll have the contract you want.”

“Why the fuck would I do any of this? I can find my own place to live, even if it’s inconvenient,” I grumble.

“You’re going to do it because the Hydras are already nervous as hell about you. I got a call from the GM and the PR team yesterday about the video. I assured them we could keep this under control and it wouldn’t happen again, which means I have to keep an eye on you. I called them back when I foundout you were evicted and told them you will stay with Knox, who will be the good influence you so desperately need.”

“I don't need a fucking babysitter,” I insist, throwing up my hands. Mark waves off my outburst like it doesn’t matter. He’s made up his mind. Fuck my life ten ways to Sunday.

“But you do need a place to live and have to learn how to control that temper. Being the highest-paid goalie in the league puts a giant target on your back with this new team. I told you if you put one foot out of line, they’ll trade you faster than you take a coffee shit before a game, and they’d have a ton of salary capacity to work with to get several great goalies to replace you. Don’t fucking tempt them, Ryder. I’ll smooth things over with the team to make sure that doesn’t happen, because you know you’d go somewhere like Bumfuck Nowhere, Canada, and no one wants that.” He visibly shudders, and I grab my chair, thinking about ending up in the Great White North.

“Respectfully, I don’t see the purpose of this. We have a history that doesn’t bode well with living together, and it’s not like we’ll have all that much time to actually work on anything, anyway,” Knox says, and I hate to say I agree with the guy.

“The purpose of this is to teach Ryder to control his emotions. To show him how to give an interview that's respectful when he’s battling anger and frustration from a loss, or keep him from lashing out and saying something damning about someone different when under pressure. The PR team is really worried about Ryder and insists that he rein it in before any more media opportunities,” Mark says to Knox. “You dowell under pressure. You don't party or get into trouble, and you pick excellent hobbies and ways to give your time back to the community. It’s exactly the influence Ryder needs for this inaugural season with the Hydras, even if you don't think there’s much time to do it. Living together will ensure that the time you do have will be spent working on this.”

“He’s always been the golden boy,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Now, who’s obsessed?” Knox snaps, and I twist my head, sending a sneer at him, ready to fire off another remark. I catch it, just barely, when I see Mark’s disappointed and frustrated face.

“I’ll have a team of movers at your place in a few hours, Ryder. They’ll box up everything. They’ll take your furniture to storage, and your personal items can go with you to Knox’s condo tonight. You’re going to be respectful of his space and rules, so don’t even think of being an asshole as a way of lashing out. I’ll let the Hydras trade you if it comes to that. This is my decision, not Knox’s. Now, learn to play nice, or else.”

And just like that, my life got worse.

Six

Knox

My heart hammers in my chest as I sit on my couch and stare at the wood floors in my condo, waiting for the inevitable knock on my door. I have a roommate. The one man I never expected to run into again, let alone spend any amount of time with, will now beliving with mefor the rest of the season. I assume Mark meant the hockey season, which is months longer than the football season. So I’m stuck with Ryder for the next seven to nine months, depending on if the Hydras make it to the playoffs.

I should have kept my mouth shut and not allowed Lilah to use that quote. She ran a scathing piece in the Atlanta Free Press today about toxic masculinity in sports that highlightedseveral recent stories and used my statement about men who put others down to feel bigger just being bullies. Maybe Mark would have less to hold over me if I’d kept my head down, and I would have my space to myself. But hindsight is twenty-twenty, and I’m looking at the past with what-if eyes when the present is showing me the unfortunate consequences of my actions.

The only saving grace in this situation, and I’m grasping at straws here, is the busy practice and game schedules with a ton of travel for both of us. We’ll barely be home, and when we are, I’m sure our schedules will rarely overlap. Because while it’s clear he still hates me, I’ve never hated him a day in my life despite everything he put me through, and that’s what makes this so much worse. I don’t like who he became or how he’s treated me, but fuck, I still can’t find it in me to erase everything we had before it went sideways.

The knock on the door finally comes, and I drag myself to my feet, feeling heavier than my two-sixty, every step to the entry feeling like I’m going to the gallows. It’s morbid, but when I’m approaching the man who made me question everything about myself and was the biggest contributor as to why I hide who I am now, it feels appropriate.

I throw open the door and stare at the familiar face on the threshold. He stares back, all perfect, wavy dark brown hair that falls in his face, emphasizing his chiseled jaw covered in a soft, short beard that’s so effortless and chill. His rugged features are even more compelling with the smallimperfections that do less to mar his visage but enhance it. The small scar that cuts the tail of one eyebrow and the slightly crooked bridge of his nose from a break that didn’t heal right only makes him sexier, more manly, than detracting from his beauty. I hate him for being the physical representation of everything I could possibly want in a man while being the vilest creature on earth.

I sigh and hold the door open wider, remaining silent. Our lessons on staying kind and saying the right thing while in a situation that sucks don’t have to begin just yet. Ryder turns and picks up a box from the exterior hallway before following me inside. I lead him to one of the guest rooms—the one furthest from my room—and open that door so he can walk in with his box and set it on the ground next to the bed.

“Do you have more boxes?” I ask.

Ryder turns to me with a sneer. “Of course I do. There are three more in the hallway, and my suitcases are in my car.”

I hold my hands up in a placating gesture. Damn, he’s so touchy. “Calm down. It was a simple question, not me looking for a fight. It was an opening for you to ask for help, but now you’re on your own. Here’s the key.” He snatches the spare key from my fingers. “I’ll give you a quick tour, and you can finish moving in.” Without waiting for him to acknowledge, I turn and expect him to follow.

“Nice manners, Golden Boy,” he mutters.

I roll my eyes, ignoring the comment. “You have an en suite bathroom, but there’s another bathroom to the left and a guestroom just past it. My room is down the hall on the right. The kitchen and living room are where you entered. You can have one of the dedicated parking spots for the condo; it’s marked in the garage, and if you’re going to have guests, they’ll have to use the building’s first-come-first-serve guest parking. Just let me know so I can expect another person in my space.”

“Gonna be jealous if I bring a girl home?”

I look over my shoulder with the most confusedwhat the fuckface I can manage. “You’re delusional if you think I have any feelings for you that go beyond animosity. Now quit being a troll, and maybe we can get Mark to end our prison sentence early for time served and good behavior.”

“Ah, a prison joke. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, all the guys you could handle and everyone wanting to butt fu—”

He’s not able to finish his sentence as I slam him against the wall and cut off his air supply with my hand clamped around his throat. His eyes go wide, and his fingers claw at my hand, but I don’t release him. Finally, my two inches of height and thirty pounds on him give me an advantage I can use. As I get closer, my tone is low and dangerous when I speak.

“You think you know so much about me and want to make all the gay jokes because that’s what you did in high school. But we’re grown-ass men, Ryder, and you’re in my house now. I won’t stand for disrespect and you popping off on things you don’t have a single clue about. So shut your fucking mouth before I knock all those pretty teeth out. No more gay jokes. About anyone. Not. One. Word.” Each word is emphasizedby tightening my fist until his face is red and he’s gasping. I straighten my arm, making space, and finally let his throat go, satisfied that the only sound I hear is his desperate inhale as I walk to my bedroom. I clench my hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

Once I’ve closed the door on my rare display of confrontational aggression, I let out a shaky breath and fall face-first onto my bed. No, no, no. This isn’t how I wanted this whole thing to start. Ryder pushes all my buttons. Gets under my skin like he wants to wear it. He antagonizes me like it’s his second nature, and I have to be the bigger person because history proves that he will take every opportunity to push me to react. If this is going to work, and for fuck’s sake, it has to because I’m not about to fail atthis, then I have to be the one that rises above his demeaning and insulting taunts and sets the tone.

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