Something So Perfect

by Natasha Madison

  Table of Contents

  SOMETHING SO PERFECT

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Epilogue Two

  About The Author

  Available Now

  Acknowledgments

  Something So Perfect ©2017 Natasha Madison

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of the material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronica or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, alive or dead, is coincidental and not indented by the author.

  LICENSE NOTICE. THIS BOOK IS LICENSED FOR YOUR PERSON ENJOYMENT ONLY. THIS BOOK MAY NOT BE RESOLD OR GIVEN AWAY T OTHER PEOPLE. IF YOU WISH TO SHARE THIS BOOK WITH ANOTHER PERSON, PLEASE PURCHASE AN ADDITIONAL COPY FOR EACH PERSON YOU SHARE IT WITH. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE HARD WORK OF THIS AUTHOR.

  DISCLAIMER.

  This is a work of adult fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The author does not endorse or condone any behavior enclosed within. The subject matter is not appropriate for minors. This novel contains profanity and explicit sexual situations.

  Cover Design: Melissa Gill with MG Book Covers & Designs

  Book Formatting: CP Smith

  Editor: Emily A. Lawrence from Lawrence Editing

  Proofing Author Services by Julie Deaton

  Proof Reader: Virginia Tesi Carey

  Dedication

  To the readers, each and every one of you who bought Something So Right

  and made my dreams come true. I’m forever in your debt!

  Matthew Grant

  Karrie Cooney

  Prologue

  Walking down the rubber mat to the ice, the smell gets you right away. Dry. It’s a smell you can’t describe. I’ve been skating before I could walk, according to my mom. I live and breathe for this sport. Even at the age of twenty-five, I still crave getting on the ice. When I’m almost near the door leading to the rink, I take off running, my skates sliding over the clean surface.

  Game day is a mix of different things for different players. For me, I get up early, get a workout in, and then relax till I have to make it to the rink, usually five hours before the game, to eat and get in the zone.

  The second I put my skate on the ice, the crowd goes wild.

  Little kids all line the boards, watching us skate around, shooting the puck doing drills. I stop in the corner and look up at the crowd as they take their seats while Ozzy Osborne’s “Crazy Train” fills the arena.

  “Big game,” my line mate, Phil, says right when he stops next to me. “We need this win if we want to qualify for the playoffs.”

  I handle the puck that’s ready on my blade for me to shoot at the person skating from the other side. I look down at the ice, and the Beavers are coming out strong, their goalie stopping every single puck that comes at him.

  “I want to fucking smash those assholes,” is the last thing I say before I take off to the center ice. The puck passed to me by Phil lands directly in the middle of the blade. I snipe it in as soon as it hits. Top corner, right over the goalie’s shoulder. My goalie, Luka, tells me to “fuck off” when I skate by him. I salute him while making my way to the bench where a reporter is standing interviewing our assistant coach.

  The coach walks away from the reporter, putting papers away in his coat pocket. The reporter looks at me. “You want to be interviewed, Grant?” he asks while checking his phone.

  I look him up and down. “Now you want to interview me?” I ask him, grabbing the water bottle on the ledge, squirting some in my mouth. “Weren’t you the one who started this fucking dumb campaign?” I smirk at him while checking the tape on my stick. “I believe the correct words were ‘time to hang up the skates, he’s done.’”

  His head snaps up and he tries to say something, but I ignore him and skate back to center ice.

  Chuck Harris, a Boston Beaver, is there watching me. “His highness is back.” He stands there looking at me. “Word is that your babysitter is a walking sex doll. Is that true?”

  He’s trying to bait me, trying to make me snap. I smirk at him, keeping my cool. That isn’t me anymore. I’m calm. I’m in a good place, and it’s all because of Karrie. I look up at where I know she will be sitting, but her seat is empty.

  I tilt my head to the side, wondering where she could be. The game is about to start. She is usually in her seat when we warm up, so I look around the arena to see if she is anywhere else.

  “Whatcha looking for?” Chuck smiles while he takes a drink from the green Gatorade bottle. I don’t bother answering him because the bell signals that it’s time for the Zamboni, so instead, I skate to the bench and head for the dressing room.

  I sit down, taking off the tape from my stick and throwing it in the garbage, then getting my roll of tape that’s right next to my cell phone. As I reach for the tape, I see my phone light up with my mother’s number. She knows I’m on the ice, so it might be an emergency.

  “Hello,” I answer the phone, looking around.

  “Matthew, thank God. I want you to listen and say nothing. I have you on speaker. Cooper is here, too,” she says, and then Cooper’s voice sounds out. “Listen to us before you talk. Got me, son?” His voice is clipped.

  “What the fuck is going on?” My heart starts pounding, and my neck gets hot, while I hear a commotion coming from outside the locker room. Voices rise behind me.

  “There’s a warrant out for your arrest. Someone is accusing you of beating and raping her yesterday,” Cooper hisses out while I look at the door that’s being slammed open. “I have the lawyer already on his way to you. You say nothing, son, nothing.”

  Two suit-wearing detectives come into the room. “Matthew Grant”—they flash their badges—“we have a couple of questions we need to ask,” one of them says while I hear Cooper still on the line. “Don’t say a fucking word, Matthew. We are coming to you.”

  “Now?” I hear Coach behind me yelling. “You do this to him now, two seconds before he’s supposed to go on the ice?” He glares at them. They obviously couldn’t care less.

  “You need to come down to the station with us,” the man continues, but I’m standing here with my mouth open, my ear drums pounding, and the phone to my ear. “We can walk out of here civilized or we can strap the cuffs on
you. One way or another, you aren’t getting on that ice.”

  My teammates are standing up to see what’s going on and shaking their heads.

  “This is bullshit.” I hear Coach say while the guys nod.

  Phil comes up to me and whispers, “Don’t say a fucking word.”

  I don’t have time to process things before I’m being ushered out of the locker room. The only thing I take off is my skates.

  I walk out of the building and I’m led into an unmarked car. When I look out the side window, I see the owner of the team is now standing with Karrie by his side. His hands are around her shoulders, her face streaked with tears. “Karrie!” I yell from inside the car. “Karrie!”

  Nothing. She turns around and walks back into the arena, leaving me alone with the silence that now fills the car.

  Chapter One

  Matthew

  Cooper Stone is my stepfather, the Cooper Stone who’s the best person to ever skate. He holds every single record that’s out there because he’s just that fucking good.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I didn’t even have a chance to say hello before Cooper’s voice filled the room. I groaned and turned over to see that he was on speakerphone. My finger must have touched it by accident. “Matthew, seriously, I’m one second from flying out there and yanking you off the fucking ice.”

  I was twenty-one and already being benched and scratched.

  I was no chump. I was drafted first over all. The day still played in my mind. “The Los Angeles Royals choose Matthew Grant.” The minute my name was said, I sat there in shock while my little sister was yelling and my mother, Parker, had tears running down her cheeks while her face lit up with happiness and pride. Cooper was the first to grab me and stand me up.

  “Go get that fucking jersey.” His voice was loud in my ear.

  My mother was next. “I’m so proud of you, Matthew, so, so proud.”

  I kissed her cheek and walked down the stairs toward the stage from where the general manager, the owner, and the coach all looked at me. When I walked on stage, I tried to hold my tears in.

  Taking the owner’s hand in mine, I shook it and thanked him. Putting that jersey on was surreal. Posing for pictures was a blur. I got so drunk that night I don’t remember much, except Cooper having to carry me inside while I pledged my love to my mother, my sister, and the trees around us.

  Usually, once you get drafted, you start off on their farm team, but not me. I was on the starting line. I was up to my ears in silicone. There would be a different girl every night, everyone wanting to get a piece of me. The star of the team. Then my game started to slip. The late nights took a toll on me and my body. Three years later, I was sent down to the farm team. You’d think I would wake up, but no, not me. I just partied harder. I was on the front page of almost every single tabloid magazine that you could think of.

  Every single summer I went back home, spending the time training hard with Cooper riding my ass, promising him that I was out of the party phase, but the minute my feet landed back in L.A., it was back to the booze and the puck bunnies. Another three years later, I was put on wavers. When no one picked me up, I packed up and went back home. For two years, I played hockey at home in charity games, till the GM from the New York Stingers came knocking at my door. Robert Western.

  Cooper, Mom, and I sat down with him. My hands shook with nerves, my legs bouncing with happiness that someone actually wanted me.

  “We want to offer him a one-year contract, with certain rules.” He eyed me and then Cooper. I knew Cooper had called in a favor.

  “What is it?” I asked, holding my breath.

  “Chaperone.”

  I was about to get up and say fuck that when Cooper put his hand on mine and blurted out, “He’ll do it.”

  I looked at him while he glared at me. My mother put a hand on top of her husband’s. United. Always.

  Robert slapped his hands together. “Matthew, you, my friend, are going to bring another cup to New York.” He got up to shake my hand and then Cooper’s, slapping him on the arm. “Who knows, you may also knock this asshole off a throne or two.”

  Cooper laughed out loud, but I knew he would be the one egging me on, the one daring me to push him off. He would also be the first one coming to congratulate me if I ever did it.

  He had come into my life when I’d needed a male figure the most. I just hadn’t known it. He showed me that you can fall in love with your whole heart and everything will fall into place. He showed me that you fight for what you want. But most of all, he showed me that love is a gift and once it’s given, you cherish it.

  So now here I am on the plane getting ready to land in New York. I have to meet the owner of the team and the PR people tomorrow at noon. I scroll through my social media sites while I wait for the doors to open. My sister is tagging me in old photos of us from Mom and Cooper’s wedding. Feels like it was just yesterday. When you see the way Cooper looks at my mother, you know he loves her with all his heart. He would walk to the ends of the earth for her.

  I press the heart emoji on the picture and then hear the ping of the seat belt sign telling us we can stand up. I grab my leather jacket and slide it on, put on my aviators, and grab my leather duffel bag. Walking out of the plane, I nod at the two flight attendants, who both slipped me their numbers. Numbers I left in the side of the seat.

  Fresh start. It’s time to make my parents proud of me. Time to show the world that Matthew Grant is here for good this time.

  On my way to my hotel in Times Square, I look out the window of the yellow cab zigzagging its way through traffic. Nothing in the world beats the cab drivers in New York City. You sit back and hold your breath while you pray to not end up being slammed forward. We reach the W hotel. I swipe my card through the card holder in the back, thanking him. I don’t even have time to close the door before he races off from the curb.

  I enter and check in without having anything to say. The woman at reception starts going through her routine talk. I cut in. “What floor is the gym on?”

  She smiles at me, telling me the information while giving me her private number in case I have any other questions.

  I nod at her and then walk up to my room. It’s the size of a closet. Welcome to New York. I take my phone out to send a text to Cooper.

  Landed. Going to work out.

  Be good.

  I’m always good.

  Okay, then behave.

  I laugh and throw the phone on the bed, and then get my workout clothes out of the bag. I grab my headphones and make my way to the gym.

  I have texts from Allison, my sister, and Tom, who is married to my aunt Meghan and is an ex-NHLer, wishing me luck. But the one that makes me laugh out loud is from my Aunt Meghan, telling me that my dick won’t fall off if I don’t use it. I’m about to answer her when the elevator beeps, signaling I have arrived at the gym floor.

  I walk to the gym and scan my card so I can get in. Usually, these hotel gyms are almost empty, but not this time. A girl is jogging on the treadmill, but I don’t make eye contact with her.

  Grabbing a towel from the basket in the corner, I walk over to the other treadmill, look down at the buttons, and turn it on.

  I start off slow while Drake fills my ears, but that doesn’t last long before I crank it up and push myself hard. I’m in the best shape of my life, thanks to my mom, Cooper, and Tim. They didn’t let me sit down and drown my sorrows in bonbons and booze. They had my ass skating at the crack of dawn. In the gym pushing and pulling. Meaning I’m the biggest I’ve ever been. My shoulders are wider, my waist leaner, my arms bigger.

  I’m sweating up a storm, so I look over to see if the girl is still running on the treadmill, which is my first mistake. Not only is she next to me running as fast as me, but she’s in a sports bra holding up a perfect set of tits, her stomach bare, her abs defined but looking soft, and her little booty shorts not keeping anything back. She isn’t tall. Her blond hair swings in the air while
she’s looking at the iPad she has in front of her. Is she watching the Kardashians? Jesus. She must sense me watching her because she looks over, which is when I feel the earth move under my feet. Her eyes are crystal blue, so blue it’s like I’m looking into the ocean. I almost trip over my own two feet, but I recover and smile at her. I turn my head forward and continue running till my legs feel like they’re going to snap in two.

  Getting off the treadmill, I whip my soaking shirt off and throw it over my shoulder before I grab a water bottle and drain it all. I notice she’s slowing her speed. She shuts off the treadmill, dabbing her face with the towel that she has near her. She takes the water bottle, drinking in a good amount.

  I start to walk out of the room when she gets off the treadmill. I stop right before we collide with each other, then put out my hand, giving her the right of way.

  “Thanks,” she says, her voice soft, sweet, pure.

  Following her out, I watch her ass swing in front of me. I don’t even notice she stops and I crash into her, grabbing her shoulders and making sure she doesn’t fall on her face because I was staring at her ass. “I’m sorry, I was…” I’m sure I don’t have to say anything to her because my cock is nestled in her back.

  She shrugs my hands off her shoulders while she presses the elevator button. We stand here not saying anything while we wait. What can you say? Sorry my dick poked your back? Sorry I was watching your sweet ass instead of watching where I was going? Silence is golden right now.

  When the elevator arrives, I wait for her to walk in before entering and see that we are on the same floor. Great. The ride lasts no longer than a second before the door opens and she sprints out, away from the crazy pervert who poked his dick into her back. I head to my door and see she’s in the room right next to mine. I want to say something, anything, but by the time I look up, she’s already in the safety of her own room.

  Chapter Two

  Karrie

  I wait for the door to click before collapsing on it and letting out the breath I’ve been holding in. Jesus, I didn’t think the first time I’d meet Matthew Grant would be when I was running on a treadmill in the middle of a gym watching the Kardashians. I slowly slide down to the floor, thinking about how I got here.