Perfect Sense (Perfect Series Book 1) (14 page)

“Mittens. Please. Don’t be like that. Don’t go.” He reaches out to touch my hair, but I slap his hand away.

“I’m done with you and your games,” I spit, using anger to ward off the hurt I feel. I’m not sure what’s worse—the fact that I’ve just added myself to his list of conquests or that I was his second choice. I’m ashamed because I know better but still couldn’t resist the temptation to be with him.

“Please, let me take you home.”

“Hell, no.” I head for the elevator and this time he doesn’t follow.

Chapter 8

The sound of my alarm makes me to groan out loud and grab my pillow from under my head, pulling it down over my eyes. My head pounds with exhaustion. My sleep was restless in scattered thoughts, my body still stinging from Cash’s touch. The memory of how he dominated me in the locker room causes a throbbing ache to build between my thighs. I slap my legs shut when I’m hit with the painful memory of that strawberry blonde barging through the door. Nauseated with humiliation, I push away any temptation to feel his touch.

I reach my hand out and blindly fish for the cell phone on my nightstand, knocking over a picture of my mother and me. I sit up and brush my curls out of my face letting out a sigh. I reach over the side of my bed and pick up the framed photo, placing it back on my nightstand. Her once loving arms are wrapped around me, while I stare up at her, smiling. My long brown curls are pulled into a high ponytail and I have on my favorite pink knit sweater. I’m only twelve years old and have braces on my teeth.

I smile to myself at how much we looked alike. I’ve always loved this picture because… she looks happy...and healthy—even though she wasn’t.

I let out a sigh and place the picture back on my nightstand, and then look down at my phone to catch a glimpse of the time on my screen. I have about thirty minutes to pull myself together and get down to the arena. Today is one of the biggest marketing events of the year; Military Appreciation Night. The league raises money for military families to celebrate armed forces. Fans look forward to it all year. Following a charity game played by the Bexley Bruisers against the Providence Jaguars, three vehicles will be given away to three deserving veterans and their families.

I have been working diligently on preparing for this event for the past few months, and I am sure as hell not going to show up late. I scramble through my wardrobe and put together a patterned blouse with a chunky necklace and an A-line skirt. I quickly apply my foundation and mascara, scarf down a piece of peanut butter toast and make my way out the door.

Pulling myself out of the steady movement of people shuffling under the hot afternoon sun, I move along the concrete with speed, passing the stage of local entertainment and in the direction of the red carpet leading into the arena. I spent my morning diligently ironing out the details of today’s itinerary and I am finally ready to trade in my stuffy office for some fresh air.

Shifting my eyes away from the crowds of people tailgating in the parking lot, I stop briefly to acknowledge three girls being interviewed by the local news. All of them giggling, wearing child-sized jerseys with BROOKS on the back and his number painted on their cheeks.

Ugh. Puck Bunnies.

I discreetly roll my eyes and huff as I turn in the direction of the media tent. I spot Lyndsey in the distance waving her skinny arms frantically above her head. She looks like a crazy person and completely out of place wearing a pair of Jimmy Choo’s and a Cartier watch, blinding my eyes from its glimmer. I laugh out loud watching her fight the movement of the cheering crowd, thankful and relived for her lunacy to help distract me from all thoughts of seeing Cash.

“Look at you, all cute and on the job,” she says, walking over in my direction.

“What are you doing here?” I fumble with my clipboard. “Didn’t you have a lunch date with Olivia?”

She flicks her long brown curls over her bare shoulder. “I did…but Louis asked me to be his date… and you know I can’t resist getting all dolled up.”

“You better not break that man’s heart,” I say, pinning her with a glare to let her know I’m serious.

Lyndsey laughs, throwing her head back and pressing her hand against her chest. “You make me sound like I am some sort of man eater.”

“You are.” I chuckle, pushing through the crowd. “And Louis is a nice guy…so don’t you dare hurt him.”

Lyndsey catches up to me. “Geez Quinn, what’s with the sudden loyalty to Louis?”

Stopping dead in my tracks, I turn around and narrow my eyes at her. “A few mornings ago he made me pancakes while you indulged in some extra hours of shut-eye and skipped out on your eight-thirty class.”

Lyndsey huffs. “Don’t get all motherly with me. You know I need at least eight hours of sleep to function. I don’t understand why classes are even scheduled that early in the morning anyway…it’s stupid.”

“No, what’s stupid is not showing up to class because you went to bed at an inappropriate hour.”

Lyndsey rolls her eyes and shoves her clutch under her armpit.

I turn away from her to see Theo a few feet away, greeting the limos pulling up to the media tent and dropping off the players. When he sees me, he smiles one of his charming grins and waves me over to his side.

“I was about to call you cell,” he says. "Did you end up getting all the prizes for the first intermission sorted out?"

I nod, watching his gaze follow Lyndsey as she walks a few feet away to chat with some of the other player’s girlfriends. He clears his throat. “Can you take over greeting the players? I need to speak with the press. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” I say with a smile as Theo hands me his iPad.

"Thanks, Quinn. I promise I’ll be back shortly. If you need anything, call me on my cell."

I look down at the document on his screen, listing each player, their guests, and their arrival time. I scan the perimeters, my eyes blurring at the sea of hockey players mixed with media personnel. I desperately search for Cash. I haven’t seen or heard from him since I left him blue- balled in the locker room, and I am beyond nervous to face him.

Tingling warmth snakes its way up my spine when I hear his smooth dark voice.

“Mittens.”

Inhaling a deep and steadying breath, I turn boldly towards him.
“What do you want, Brooks?” I allow the anger to cut through my voice.

He leans in close, inches away from my lips. “I want to finish what we started.”

“Maybe you should call the hooker from last night to help you out with that,” I say as sweetly as possible.

“A hooker?” He chuckles, a smug smile curving his lips. “Is that seriously what you thought?”

Straightening out his suit jacket, he lets out a chuckle before sliding his hands through his lush honey hair. I’m mesmerized as he runs one finger absentmindedly across his plump bottom lip, almost pulling down on it slightly, his eyes smirking into mine. I find myself drinking in the way his charcoal suit fits tight against his gorgeous body, especially along his arms and shoulders.

I take a step back, flustered. Why does he always look so damn gorgeous when he’s being a complete dick?

“You paid her off, so that’s exactly what I thought,” I huff, feeling my cheeks heat. “You know what, Brooks, you need to stop trying to push this. What happened in that locker room reminded exactly why I need to stay away from you.”

“I’m not trying to push anything.”

I cross my arms in front of my chest, narrowing my eyes at him.

He lets out a nervous chuckle and bites his bottom lip. “You think I’m not serious.”

“I think you like games. And I’m not a toy. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have players I need to greet. And a job to do.”
I try to turn around, but he grabs my elbow and pulls my backside into his hard chest.

“I’m sorry, okay.” He drops his head and presses his mouth against my ear. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

“Like what, Brooks?” I hiss. “Someone who doesn’t put up with your shit?” I tremble and tears sting my eyes. “As crazy as it sounds, when I said I wanted you in that locker room, I wasn’t lying or playing a game or saying it because that was what you wanted to hear.” I shake my head. “I said it because I meant it.”

He brushes my curls over my shoulder. “If I asked you right now if you wanted me, would you still mean it?”

“I can’t do this. Not here. Not now. I have a job to do. I’m done with you.” I squirm from his electric touch, but he tightens his grip.

“Well, I’m not done with you.”

The way he lingers, letting his free hand run along the back of my thigh, has my body flushing with heat.

“You’re bad news, Brooks.” I take a few steps back while maintaining eye contact with the world’s most infuriating man. He smirks at me in amusement, before he shoves his hands into his pockets. When two big-breasted women cozy up to either side of him, I turn away.

“What was that all about?” Lyndsey’s eyes are huge as she nibbles her lip.

“What?” I ask, playing dumb even though I am still reeling from Cash and his touch.

“You know what,” she says in a hushed whisper.

I roll my eyes and glance over my shoulder. Cash is leaning against the wall, his muscular arms crossed in front of his chest. The two women laugh at whatever fascinating bull crap he feeds them. The second he catches me in a full on stare, he gives me a wink, making my heart beat a little faster.

I glance at my watch. “The next limo is going to be here any second. I need to get back to work.”

“Everyone saw you two,” she says, taking a step closer. “Look around, Quinny, the claws are out.”

I see a bunch of girls standing in the corner, whispering and pointing in my direction.

"There you are," Louis says from behind Lyndsey.

I look up to see him and Viktor approaching us. Viktor gives me crooked grin, then takes a step forward and places his hand on the small of my back. "Working hard, Quinn?"

I smile. "Always."

A limo pulls up to the curb and I slide away from his touch. The limo driver opens the door to let out a tall dark haired man with a stunning red head.

"Kirky-boy!" Viktor shouts and claps at the newest arrival.

I glance at the list and see the name of the last arrival, from the Providence Jaguars, Peter Kirkland.

"Are you Peter?” I ask.

He chuckles. "The one and only."

His voluptuous date laughs at his attempted charm and bats her long thick lashes in his direction. He barely pays her any attention and high-fives both Louis and Viktor.

I am about to direct them into the tent, when I feel Viktor at my backside, "Hey, if I don't see you after the game, you better come to Coach Bartley’s wrap party."

"Oh, I’m not going,” I politely decline.

Viktor chuckles, "Ah come on, you have to."

“No thank you, all hockey boys are bad news.”

"You better believe it,” he says with a wink. “I’ll see you there, Quinn.” He turns and walks away with Kirky-boy and the red head.

The sound of high pitched female giggling mixed with the slapping of high fives causes my curiosity to follow the noise. I look over to see Cash bench pressing some tiny blonde in a skin tight dress over his head. When he places her down on her pin thin heels after the tenth pump, he brushes his shoulders off then flexes his biceps for his adoring female followers and team mates. His eyes briefly meet mine before I turn away, making my insides heat up.

"Christ he is such an ass,” I mutter out loud to myself.

Lyndsey chuckles "Oh my God, just admit that you like him!"

"I do not!" I shout back.

She cocks her head to the side, eyeing me skeptically, "You do too.
And we both know how badly he wants you. Look at all those pathetic women hanging all over him, yet he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room.”

"Is everything going okay?" Theo asks, his deep voice catching me and Lyndsey off guard.

"Yes, so far so good," I say with a bead of sweat dripping from my brow. My sister curiously shifts her gaze between Cash and me.

"Great. Let me know once all the Jaguars players have arrived." He gives a smile before heading back towards the entrance of the red carpet. I watch him work his way across the tent, feeling Lyndsey's eyes on me as I follow behind him.

I cringe when I hear her shout, "This conversation isn't over, Quinn."