Bax snorts, and I send him a sheepish smile, feeling my cheeks warm knowing that this morning was witnessed by celebs in their own right. If I could curl up and die, I would. I so absolutely would.
“Don’t worry about it. For real, that was the funniest morning I think we’ve all had in a long time,” Baxter assures, reaching over to pat my thigh, setting off a flurry of butterflies in my belly and fireworks in my mind.
Rolling my eyes at myself and the butterflies swarming my stomach, I huff, “Glad my misery amuses you.”
The remainder of the drive goes by with chitchat that takes my mind off the chaos that rained down on me this morning. I learn that my new neighbors are putting down roots in New York, which means my dream of never seeing them again sprouts legs and sprints straight into traffic. They’re here for the foreseeable future, meaning I’m going to have to see them every day if I’m not careful about it. I’m going to be painfully careful.
I also learn that despite each of their statuses, all but Caiden despise the limelight. Not to say that it sounds like Caiden loves the limelight, but from what I gather, it seems he’s far more confident in front of a camera. Something that will come in handy during the session he’s apparently booked with me. It is nice to know that the four of them aren’t into status and notoriety, though, because the thought of paparazzi and intrusions into my life sends me into hives. I’ve suffered enough of that shit to last me a lifetime, even though Mom and Dad try to save me from most of it. But hell, I guess that’s the reason it takes a whole lot to embarrass me. Lubegate was just something else entirely.
By the time we reach The Arena, I’m still cussing out my besties and woman-balls deep in a plot to fuck up their days. I don’t know when I’ll get to it, but it’ll happen, come hell or high water.
“You’re thinking real hard over there,” Baxter notes, his beautiful lips twitching.
I nod dutifully. “Ruining a day takes a lot of thinking. I have three days to plot.”
I’m climbing out of the car the next moment, Baxter’s butterfly-forming laughter following me. I retrieve my skates and round the car, Baxter already waiting for me. Offering him a smile, I jerk my head to the entrance and tell him, “So, are you gonna wait around for the team to arrive or…?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’m just waiting on the one player, since I have his keys, but I have my cell, so I can get some shit done on that,” he answers with a smile of his own. Pretty sure that smile could send me into cardiac arrest, because my heart stalls for much too long.
Clearing my throat, I jerk my finger over my shoulder and say, “Okay. Well, I’m gonna go skate this morning right out of my system. The coffee bar should be open, so hit that up if you’re craving it. If you tell Casey that I sent you up for a caramel brownie frappe, you can get a coffee for free. On me. For the stupid you witnessed. Bye.”
And with that, I’m hauling ass into the ice rink with vengeance on my mind, and too much pent-up mortification inside me. Doesn’t help that Baxter’s laughter haunts me long after I leave him at the doors, but I do my best to block it out. I have ice to shred, friends to ruin, and a whole morning to atone for.
I make it to what we all at The Arena call my rink, and I sigh when the first waves of peace finally reach me. Taking a seat on the closest bench, I tug off my sweats to reveal the gray leggings I have underneath, switch my sneakers to skates, and start stretching.
As soon as I’m loose enough, I stand and fish out my cell from my sweats, strutting in my skates to the unmanned DJ deck that’s used for game nights. Reaching over, I set my cell up and start playing my skating playlist, and the first notes of Bruce Savage’s “Easy to Love” start playing. I roll my shoulders back and stretch my neck back and forth before hitting the ice.
The moment my skates glide across the freshly smoothed ice, I lose myself to the music and the moves so deeply ingrained in my psyche that I could do this shit in my sleep.
Chapter Eight
Caiden
Mind still reeling, I go through my shower in a daze, trying to comprehend having Madison Fowler, of all people, living in the same apartment building as me. Better yet, living in the apartment directly above ours. It’s like Christmas came early or something, because never in my wildest dreams would I have ever imagined living anywhere near the woman I’m high-key, but also low-key because I’m not a creep, obsessed with. I certainly didn’t have that on this year’s bingo card.
As soon as I’m done showering, I dress quickly in a pair of sweats, a black compression shirt, and a pair of Nikes before leaving my room in search of my cell.
“Hey, man. Someone’s tryna reach you,” Rayne comments from where he’s lying on the couch, eyes closed with the brim of his hat covering his face in shadows.
I frown, unsure who’d be trying to get in touch with me this morning. I’m not due to head to the gym until later, and I’m pretty sure I booked the next few days off from work due to the move. Looking around, I try to locate where my wayward device has disappeared to, coming up empty. Eventually, I ask, “Bro, where the fu—”
Before I finish my sentence, Rayne interrupts, “Here, dumbass.”
I look over and, sure enough, the dick is holding my cell in his hand while still trying to appear as though he’s napping. The way his hand gradually lowers, I actually start to question whether he’s faking or not.
Reaching for my phone before the ass drops it, I check over my notifications and find a text from Bax.
BAX:Yo, didn’t think this through. Reckon you can be my bitch and pick me up? Don’t know how long twinkle toes will be shredding the ice, and I’m stranded otherwise.
Snickering, I type out a response, already heading for my keys. Like I said, I’m obsessed. Not in a stalkerish, needing-a-restraining-order kind of obsessed. More like a grabbing-the-opportunity-to-see-Madison-at-any-given-moment-with-both-fists kind of obsessed. I’m not even embarrassed about it, either, because anyone in their right mind would be crazy about the woman I’ve been practically dreaming of since I saw her walking a red carpet as her father’s date a couple of years ago. She had vibrant orange hair then and has changed it several times over the years. I’m really digging the icy blue she’s rocking now, though.
CADE:On my way.
Bax’s reply comes quickly, and I roll my eyes.
BAX:Of course you are lmao.
“I’m heading out to pick Bax up from the rink. You guys need anything while I’m gone?” I ask Rayne, Ryan nowhere in sight, probably catching up on sleep in his room now that the fun has ended.
