Page 97 of Desperate Pucker
“He’s a prick.” I sit down next to her. “He posts a lot of shitty takes about me and my playing ability. Mostly pot-shots about how I’m too old to play. One time on his show, he took bets on what kind of injury would finally force me to quit playing for good. Concussion, fucked up knee, shattered shoulder.”
Maddy’s face twists in disgust. “Are you serious?”
I nod. “Sometimes he finesses the press credentials after the game and goads me during post-game press about how old I am.”
Maddy glances back over the bar. “The guy is in his forties, andhehas the nerve to callyouold?”
I crack a smile at how offended she is on my behalf. “Professional sports is a whole different world. All the players are in their early to mid-twenties. If you’re in your mid-thirties, you’re old.”
She sighs. “I guess I understand. Figure skating is the same way. It’s even worse for women. All the top skaters are in their late teens or early twenties. I was downright geriatric.”
I raise my brow at her. “Not a chance. You’re forever young, princess.”
She grins at me before her smile fades. “I wouldn’t have talked to that guy if I had known he was such an asshole to you.”
“It’s okay. I could tell by the look on your face that you weren’t into him and wanted to get away.”
“Was I that obvious?” She sips her Coke. “You got me hooked on these.”
“Good girl,” I say, quiet enough that only she can hear me.
Her cheeks flush, and her eyes dilate the slightest bit. She does that when she’s turned on too.
I contemplate asking if she wants company when she heads back to her hotel room tonight, but I don’t. This is a work trip for her, and she wants to be taken seriously. Hooking up with me isn’t part of that plan.
We all finish our drinks and head back to the hotel.
“Walk you to your room?” I ask when we head through the entrance of the hotel.
She tilts her head at me. “Are you seriously trying to hook up with me during a work trip?”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
She laughs. I follow her to the stairwell. I notice the way she glances at the elevators, then looks away.
“Honestly, I’m just glad you’re not bringing Bobby Baker to your room tonight.”
She shoves my arm and makes a grossed-out face. “Oh my god, never, ever, ever.” She stops at the door to the stairwell. “Aren’t you on the first floor?”
“Yeah, but I wanna make sure you get to your room okay.”
“I’m on the fourth floor.”
“That’s fine.”
“You’d have to walk all the way back down here.”
“That’s also fine.”
Her full cheeks flush as she smiles. “Okay. Thanks.”
I walk up the stairwell with her to the fourth floor and around the corner to her room.
She pulls out her key card, then turns to me.
“Lock the door as soon as you get inside,” I say.
She smiles. “You’re very protective.”
