“Max.”
He radiated tension. “Stay.”
Two hours later,the set was ready to go. Everyone stood around waiting. The only person missing was Max.
“Where’s our sexy model?” the photographer yelled.
Someone scurried up to him and then he turned around and roared, “Rory?”
“Yes?”
“Max wants to talk to you. He’s in the dressing room.”
The entire room watched as I walked across the room and knocked on the door.
“Come in.” Max’s voice sounded terse.
I stepped into the room and had to work to keep my mouth from dropping wide open. Max looked like a hockey god wearing theequivalent of hockey lingerie. His skates added 3 inches to his 6’4” frame. He wore a pair of short black boxers that showed off his powerful legs and his impressive bulge. His hard, muscular body sparkled with oil and glistened in the light. His hair was messily tousled. I had never seen anything so sexy in my entire life. My mouth felt dry and the rest of my body felt hot.
“You need to call this off.”
“Max.”
“Do it.”
“Tell me what is going on?”
His fists clenched at his side. “This is bullshit.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“Max. Talk to me.”
He breathed hard through flared nostrils. I’d never seen him this rattled.
“Max, talk to me.”
He waited so long I thought he wouldn’t answer. “They hate me.”
“Who?”
“The fans.”
Suddenly I realized what was going on. Max’s armor against the haters was his skill and talent on the ice. Now he stood here in his underwear. No armor. No protection. He felt vulnerable.
“Max, I don’t hate you.”
His gaze held mine.
“Not only do I not hate you, but I respect you. You haven’t been given a fair shot in this town and I wish that was different, but despite that, you persevere. Your commitment is absolute and your talent as a hockey player is flawless.”
“What’s your point?”
“After giving everything of yourself to the game, here you are, giving even more of yourself. This calendar raises enough money so that eight women’s shelters can keep their doors open for a year. And that makes me proud.”
Annoyance seethed from his pores. “Fine.”
“You’ll do it?”