by Amanda Cowen
My heart pounds painfully as I let the breath I’ve been holding between my lips slowly seep out. “That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, his career was nearly ruined because of it.” Theo grabs his phone from his pocket and taps out a text then looks down at me. “But you know what’s horrible right now, is that the league is holding me responsible for Cash’s outburst, and your father is trapped in Texas dealing with questions from the media about your relationship with Brooks.”
I avoid Theo’s eyes, reluctant to even comment. I power off my computer and bend down to retrieve my purse, but when I pop back up his tapping foot tells me I am not off the hook.
“I’ve already called Cash’s agent. We’re meeting with them right now in the boardroom. It isn’t going to be easy, but we need Brooks to agree to a statement and press release. The affiliates want him to publically ensure his fans and the organization that he is not struggling with substances again. He is the National League’s number one future prospect and they need to protect him. What happened between him and Kirkland needs to be portrayed as a fight that started on the ice, and carried its way to the party. If the media uses this brawl to claim that Brooks is back on the wagon or fucking the newest President’s daughter, believe me, it won’t just be the leagues reputation one the line.” He pauses meeting my eyes, his voice faltering as he begins to speak again. “I can’t afford to lose you as an employee because of this outburst from Brooks.”
My face heats and I begin to lose my patience. “None of this is his fault. Kirkland was being a complete dick and Cash stepped in to protect me.”
He leans in, his eyes connecting with mine. “Then tell me I have nothing to worry about.”
He has everything to worry about. I broke the one rule I shouldn’t have; I involved myself romantically with a Bruisers player – and the highest profiled one at that. God. I am a terrible liar, but this is neither the time nor place to come clean. My silence engorges the room and I shift my eyes to the floor with my heart beating painfully in my chest.
I can see the muscles in his jaw clenching as I shake my head softly. “Cash isn’t as bad as you or anyone else thinks him to be -”
He lets out a heated chuckle. “Quinn, why are you defending him? I can guarantee you that Cash Brooks does not see you the way I do. To a guy like him, all you are is a brief challenge and a quick fuck. He would love nothing more than to stick it to me, the organization and your father by getting in your pants. If he even for a second has you thinking that you’re different from any other girl, you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
“Are you done?” I stare up at him, beyond infuriated. “Brooks doesn’t have me thinking I’m different to him, I know I’m different to him. He stuck up for me when no one else did, including you.”
The chatter of voices filters in from the open door of my office and into the hallway where a bunch of media personnel have started to funnel into the main boardroom. Cash walks in followed by three cameramen, a half a dozen reporters, and his agent. The second he sees me, his tight ridged face softens and his eyes zero in on my lips. He pushes through the crowd, with his agent calling out behind him and demanding he follow him into the boardroom. But Cash ignores him. He steps in front of Theo and towers over me, smelling ridiculously good and looking insanely sexy in his backwards baseball cap and tight gray t-shirt.
He turns his head slightly in Theo’s direction. “What is she doing here?”
“What do you think she’s doing here, Brooks? She’s my intern and she’s helping me clean up your goddamn mess from last night,” Theo says from behind me.
Cash angry eyes turn back to mine, desperate. He stalks over in my direction, all the air vacuuming from my lungs watching his taut lean body in motion. He presses his mouth against my hair and whispers softly into my ear. “What happened last night is all on me, understand?”
The magnetism I feel from his presence and the sincerity behind his rough and ragged voice nearly brings me to my knees. He pulls away slowly with his protective blue eyes holding my gaze.
“Alright, you said what you needed to say, Brooks. Get in the boardroom.” Theo’s stern voice slices through our heated air.
“You’re a real piece of work,” Cash says, “involving her like this.”
“She’s my intern, and it’s her job to be involved. It’s for her own good, and about time I welcomed her to the fucked-up world of Cash Brooks.” Theo puts his hand on my shoulder and I shrug him off.
Like a flash of lightning, Cash grabs him by the shirt and slams him up against the wall, sneering through his teeth. “This has nothing to do with her.”
“Fuck you, Brooks,” Theo spits back. “It has everything to do with her. My employees are off-limits and you know it. It’s policy. Maybe you should have learned your lesson after Kimberly.”
“I wanted nothing to do with her and you know it,” Cash snarls. “You were just pissed she didn’t want you.”
“Maybe if you kept your goddamn cock under control from wanting what it can’t have we wouldn’t have to keep meeting like this,” Theo growls, his jaw tight. “And now, you’ll finally be exposed for the addict that you are. Kiss your hockey career goodbye, Brooks.”
Cash grips him harder by the shirt and balls his other hand into an angry fist.
“Quinn’s too good for you,” Theo taunts him.
In an instant, fire ignites in his eyes and the veins in his neck pop as it tightens. My heart races and as his fist twitches, I shout, “Cash stop!”
He cranks his head to the side and locks eyes with me, his chest rising and falling. His fist opens and drops to his side, releasing Theo’s collar. He takes a step back, freeing Theo from his wrath.
Muttering a curse, Cash reaches for the handle of my office door, pulls it open and slams it behind him.
The boardroom is packed wall to wall with media personnel surrounding Cash and his agent while members of the National Hockey League ask him rehearsed questions, waiting for his rehearsed answers. Watching him lean back in his chair, with his hands tented on his chest and a perfect shot of his chiseled jaw line sends a rousing chill up my spine.
While everyone else continues to talk in circles about the damage control following his violent outrage, he leans over and a low rumble resonates from his throat. “Do you always search through someone’s phone before you leave their home?”
I stare at him, stunned, and slightly embarrassed. “It was pretty hard to look away from the fake tits filling up the entire screen.”
“Don’t be mad, Mittens. It’s no secret that I like to flirt and fuck beautiful women. But, here’s what I don’t like. When the one woman I want all to myself, refuses to accept her feelings and admit she wants that too.”
I think about replying and change my mind. I close my eyes and turn away from his stare, taking the opportunity to focus on the discussion around the table.
He leans in closer and his hand disappears under the table and wanders up my thigh. I inhale a sharp breath, when his fingers slip under the hem of my skirt, inching their way closer to my panties. I slap my legs shut, trapping his hand between my thighs. He clears his throat, and whispers against my hair. “What can I do to get you to forgive me?”
“Pay attention,” I reply in the most annoyed tone I can muster. “This is your future on the line.”
I turn my attention to the note pad in front of me, feeling his eyes burn in my direction. I inhale a sharp breath at feeling his hand slide further up my thigh. I shift uncomfortably, desperately willing my arousal away, but all I do is knock over the jar of pens in front of me. I try to stop it with an outstretched hand, but the jar topples over and the pens jet out all over the long boardroom table, some even falling to the floor. In an instant, everyone’s glare is pinned in my direction and a thin line of sweat glistens on my brow. When I look up, Theo is glaring at Cash from the other side of the table, tapping his pen with a cocked brow.
“Brooks, are you going to respond
? You’ve been suspended for three games and if you don’t agree to release a statement to the press, the league will have no choice but to send you down further to the affiliate ECHL team. So answer the goddamn question. Are you willing to speak to the press today and deny that the spat between you and Kirkland had anything to do with Miss Ashby? Or that you are abusing substances again?” Theo shouts in a vain attempt to remind Cash he is in control.
Without a word, Cash leans over to his left and whispers in his agent’s ear. His agent clears his throat and uncomfortably straightens his tie. When Cash leans back in his seat, he gives Theo a stare so powerful, it sends a chill up my spine.
His agent flips open his note pad and clicks his pen, looking over at Theo. “Before Mr. Brooks agrees to anything, he’s requesting a moment alone to speak with Miss Ashby.”
“No way.” Theo arrogantly laughs, slamming his fist on the table. “Miss Ashby should be kept far away from Mr. Brooks, if the organization wants what’s best for it.” He looks over to the Bruisers general manager for support, but when his response is a shrug and a shake of his head, Theo says, “Do you really think that is a reasonable request? That Brooks have a moment alone with my intern? He’s a fucking lunatic! He threw me up against the wall before we waked in here. He’s unpredictable! I am concerned for her safety.”
The general manager clears his throat. “Theo, your accusations against Brooks are of a serious nature. May I remind you are on the record? And if I were you, I’d start paying attention to the way I was behaving in this boardroom. Now, if Mr. Brooks would like a moment to speak with Miss Ashby, it would be up to her to decide if she is comfortable with his request.”
“Quinn? You’re okay with this?” Theo spits out in anger.
My hands are trembling and I am beyond angry. I could easily tell Cash to fuck himself, and not play into his game. But that would mean he would retract his press release, hurting both the league and his future.
“You’ve got five minutes,” I say, pushing away from the table.
Theo leans back in his chair, running his hands through his hair. I hear the rumblings of Cash’s chair as I walk out of the boardroom and into the hallway. Seconds later, he appears and closes the door behind him, leaving the two of us alone and staring at one other in silence in the empty hallway.
My heart races at the realization that Cash makes me want and need and fear all at the same time. His presence makes me feel alive, his eyes make me feel desired and his lips when they kiss mine, claim me as his. I’m terrified of my feelings. They’re real, raw and I’m about to put everything on the line, for five measly minutes, because I can’t fight my infatuation with Cash f’ing Brooks.
He takes a step closer to me, and I lower my eyes momentarily to the visible beat of his pulse at the base of his jaw. “Listen, Mittens, I know it’s fucking selfish of me to want you. I know how much this internship means to you – “He leans and murmurs in my ear, the coarseness of his whiskered jaw rubbing the crook of my neck as he speaks. “But I refuse to agree to anything in there, unless you agree to something for me.”
I snort loudly, uncomfortable with his request. “Seriously? You’re bribing me, Brooks?”
My body tightens in anticipation, admiring his broad shoulders and strong chest stretching the cotton of his t-shirt. His honey hair wisps up at the edge of his ears, and I itch to run my fingers through it.
“I don’t want to want you like I do – I know I should just let you go - “He stops mid-sentence before pulling away and walking to the other side of the hallway. “Will you or will you not agree to what I am about to ask of you?”
“Christ, Brooks—” I sigh deeply, crossing my arms in front of my chest, trying desperately to find the right words. I look him in the eyes, figuring honesty is the easiest route. “I don’t understand what else you could possibly want. I’ve given you what you wanted—twice. Once last night. And once this morning.”
I can feel the blood rushing in and out of my ears from the rapid pulse from my heart. Furious he won’t back off, stop the charade and move on, like he is programmed to do. Why can’t he prove me right, break my heart and allow me the decency of regret.
“Besides,” I say, “why should I even agree to anything you’re about to propose? After seeing the suggestive message that big tits left you this morning, it’s blatantly obvious I am not the only woman in your life. You’ve made it very clear to me that I can’t trust you.”
He eyes me cautiously, his eyes blinking rapidly as he contemplates my words. I try to keep my expression impassive, but it’s next to impossible to hide the hurt I feel. “I should tell you to go fuck yourself. But if I did that, you’d refuse to agree to a press release and you know the consequence. You’ll fuck up your entire career. Is that really what you want?”
Finally, he breaks. His head drops and he sighs deeply. “I get it, Mittens. I fuck. I fight. And I can’t promise you anything.”
“Exactly, so why on earth should I trust you?”
His eyes remain on mine, silently begging me to have faith in him. He stands there, looking at the boardroom double doors, both of us silent. One look at him makes me forget my hopes and dreams and aspirations all at the same time. And it terrifies me that in this moment I am desperately searching for any excuse to agree to whatever it is he wants from me.
Finally, he says, “Because Quinn… I need you to. Now more than ever.”
“Wrong answer!” I spit back, anger welling up in the pit of my stomach.
Vague! That is all he ever is vague and mysterious! How am I supposed to trust him? I am only fooling myself by thinking I’m different from his other conquests. It’s unfair of me to want more from him. I can’t expect him to give me that.
“Believe me Quinn, I want to give you a million reasons to trust me.” His voice deepens, and a tremor vibrates through it. “But right now…” He sounds uncertain but hopeful. “Please, give me one weekend to prove it.” He steps in front of me, and my entire body trembles when his hands find my hips. “And I swear I’ll agree to the press release and I’ll do and say whatever the fuck the league wants me to.”
I lean back. The vulnerability I hear in his voice and sense in his body language shocks me. This is not the hot-tempered jock that rotates women out of the back of his limo, staring at me. He looks scared, his big blue eyes glazed with a misty haze. He stares at me, patiently, fingertips sliding warm and smooth down the sides of my face. The possibility of succumbing to his ploy and being exclusive to him for one weekend sends a thrill through me. I raise my eyes to his, trying to read the emotions flashing through his eyes. Could I be more than a game to him?
In this moment looking at him, I can see way more than he wants me to, or expected me to see. And what I see in him frightens me too on so many levels because what emulates from his baby blues mirrors exactly what I feel inside myself when I’m with him; A confusing, complicating, and consuming desire scaring me half to death.
“Say yes, Mitttens,” he murmurs with a quiet desperation as he kisses the top of my head. “I need you to say yes.”
Logically, I know this is the worst possible idea and potentially the biggest life-altering mistake I could ever make. Yet I can’t push the simplest two-letter word of rejection from my lips.
“I have questions I want answered,” I say, leaning away.
He lets out a breath. “Come on, Mittens—”
“Cut the crap, Cash. Tell me. What the hell is Theo talking about? What substances did you abuse?”
I see darkness flicker in his eyes momentarily at some unpleasant thought that it holds in his memory. His eyes shift away from mine and he mutters a curse under his breath. He pulls away and turns his back to me, pressing his fists against the wall.
“If you want my trust, answer me with the truth,” I plead with him. “I’m not agreeing to anything unless I feel I can trust you.”
He lets out a heavy sigh and mutters, “I told you. I have got a shitload of baggage. I
don’t let people in.”
“That’s bullshit, Cash! How dare you even ask me to consider taking off with you for a weekend and put my internship on the line, when you can’t even be honest with me? You’ve been cagey with me since the day I started this internship over anything remotely personal and you’re even being cagey right now! You’re hiding something from me.”
“Quinn, please. Not right now.”
“What are Theo and the entire league talking about it? Why are you being so damn secretive? I can’t hold up my end of the bargain if you don’t let me in and continue to hide things from me.”
His nostrils flare and face heats. “You don’t understand what I have been through! You don’t understand what I have lost – because it’s everything and everyone that I love.” He lets out a few ragged pants, bringing his eyes in line with mine. “And I am sure as hell not ready to lose you.”
“Then let me try to understand.” I beg in a barely-there whisper.
“Fuck, Mittens.” He runs his hands through his hair. “After the accident I was in…I was in a dark place. I went off the rails for a while. I made terrible decisions and nearly ruined my career. Prescription pills and booze were my medicine.”
I feel a sharp pain pierce my chest hearing the agony cut through his voice as he relives and confronts the mistakes of his past. I’m no stranger to the power of addiction and its demons. I know its struggles, it challenges and its depths. It took my childhood as I watched my mother live and take her own life because of it.
Shaking away my own past, I continue with a trembling breath. “Please, tell me you are clean.”
He keeps his back to me and my eyes slide over his broad shoulders, moving downward to admire the way his athletic build fills out his jeans.
