Page 121 of Goalie Goal
Eyes snapping to his wife’s, he ran a hand over the exhausted expression on his face. “Bristol.”
Her arm shot out, pointing to the opposite end of the long table. “You can fuck off right now. You did this to me.”
Shaking his head, Maddox lifted his eyes skyward, muttering, “And this is why I didn’t want to come out tonight,” as he followed her command and walked away.
The minute he was out of earshot, Bristol leaned her elbows onto the table, a wicked grin curving on her lips. “He doesn’t know it yet, but I’m gonna get a little payback next week.”
Dakota snickered. “You still haven’t told him?”
“Oh, I’ve told him. But he still hasn’t figured out after all these years that he can’t boss me around like he does his players.”
Evie’s ears perked up. “Wait. Next week? Isn’t the team headed to the West Coast?”
“Bingo!” Bristol declared.
I was totally lost, so I kept my mouth shut, electing to remain a silent observer of their exchange.
Tessa placed a hand over her mouth to stifle a round of giggles. “He’s gonna be so pissed.”
Bristol rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well. Not my problem. He better learn to suck it up because nothing is keeping me off that plane.”
Dakota leaned over to clue me in. “Bristol’s deathly afraid of flying. Like, she literally thinks she’s gonna die every time she gets on a plane.”
My brows drew down. If she was scared of flying, I had several questions. One, why would she choose a job that required constant air travel, and two, why was she pushing to go on a trip if she’d rather not fly in the first place?
My confusion must have been written across my face because Dakota decided to spell it out for me. “She’s afraid that if Maddox gets on a plane without her, he’ll die. She’d rather they go down together.” She shot a disapproving glare at her best friend. “It’s fucked up if you ask me, but everyone has their issues.”
“Didn’t ask you,” Bristol shot back from across the table.
Tilting my head to the side, I assessed the pregnant woman. “I didn’t realize you could still fly at this point.”
A mischievous gleam sparkled in her bright blue eyes. “Normally, you can’t. The commercial cutoff is thirty-six weeks, which I’ll be past on the back end of our trip—we’ll be gone eleven days. But it just so happens our flights are privately chartered. No matter how hard he tries, he’s not gonna win this one. I’m going.”
Not gonna lie; I was impressed. Bristol might be young and have a visibly possessive husband, but she wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself. She wasn’t at all concerned that in doing so, she might become the subject of physical abuse.
I’d painted Maddox with the asshole brush after our first encounter. I mean, I was well within my rights to do so with how he’d treated me like some two-bit gold digger, only after Sasha for his money. But he was clearly protective, and it said a lot about the man that his wife felt safe enough to debate a topic without repercussions. More than that, she believed she might emerge victorious. It spoke of a true partnership, and I found myself liking him just the tiniest bit.
A tray was placed on the edge of the table, and I glanced up to find my super sweet hunk passing out glasses to the ladies. Bristol grumbled a bit, accepting her virgin margarita, but thanked Sasha for the gesture.
His brow furrowed when he went to hand me my drink and saw I already had a fresh one sitting before me.
Maddox, I mouthed.
Surprise flickered over Sasha’s features, and his eyes shifted toward the end of the table where the man in question sat, and he lifted his chin in acknowledgment, something passing between the two of them.
Returning his attention to me, he flashed those perfectly straight teeth. “Guess you get an extra, then.”
He abandoned the tray as he walked away, leaving it for a member of the wait staff to grab later. I expected him to take a seat with the guys, but instead, he jogged up the few steps that put him on stage.
The ladies around me let out a cheer moments before the rest of the crowd joined them, the noise almost as deafening as that of the arena earlier.
“What’s going on?” I asked, even though the answer was obvious.
“Your man is a fan favorite, both on and off the ice,” Dakota shouted in response as music blasted from whatever song he’d chosen.
Tossing me a wink from on stage, Sasha ran a hand through his long blond hair, causing his bicep to ripple, and several catcalls sounded. My head whipped around to find the source, but Bristol grabbed my hand from across the table, drawing my attention to her.
“Let ’em look. He’s going home with you tonight.”
