Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Which one of them had taken a bribe? And was it only one?
For all he knew, half the guys could be involved. The notion caused his blood to boil. You had to be a real fucking asshole to deliberately throw a game. The media claimed only one or two games had been fixed, and early in the season, but it didn’t matter to Brody when or how many. All it took was one game. One loss could be the difference between making the playoffs and ending the season in defeat. It was a good thing they’d played well enough to make up for those early losses.
“Let’s give them hell tonight,” Wyatt said quietly as everyone began shuffling out of the locker room.
Give them hell? That was the big pep talk for the night?
From the wary looks on the other men’s faces, Wyatt’s words of encouragement were about as effective as dry glue.
“You good?” Becker nudged his shoulder, his expression serious.
Brody shrugged. “Not really. But there’s not much I can do about it. This investigation is happening whether we want it to or not.”
Sam nodded bleakly. “Yup.” He hesitated, then muttered, “I really wish you’d take my advice.”
He knew what his teammate meant, but he played dumb anyway. “What advice?”
Annoyance flashed in Becker’s eyes. “About Presley’s daughter,” he said in a low voice. “I saw her coming out of a fuckin’ supply closet at the autism event, Brody. And then, what do you know, you walked out a minute later.”
Shit. He’d thought they’d gotten away with that public quickie.
“What the hell are you thinking, man? There’s playing with fire, and then there’s whatever the hell you’re doing. You’re just daring the media to catch you two together.” Sam shook his head in disapproval. “You need to stay away from her.”
Stay away from Hayden? Yeah, right. At the moment, he was doing everything in his power to stay close to her. And he was succeeding. For the most part anyway.
No matter how often Hayden called their relationship a fling, Brody didn’t view anything between them as casual. For the first time in his life, he was with a woman he actually liked hanging out with. Sure, he liked the sex, too—fine, he loved the sex—but there were other things he enjoyed just as much. Like watching art documentaries with her. Holding her while she slept. Teaching her to skate even though she wasn’t much of a student.
He honestly couldn’t get enough of her. She was funny and smart, and her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved. And it bothered the shit out of him that she seemed determined to keep him at a distance, at least when it came to admitting they were in a relationship. He desperately wanted to bridge that gap, make her realize just how important she was becoming to him.
“Are you even listening to me?” Becker’s irritated voice drew him out of his thoughts.
He lifted his head. “Look… As much as I value your advice, I can’t stay away from her, man.” He shrugged sheepishly. “I’m seeing her tonight, in fact.”
Becker frowned, but before he could respond, Wyatt barked a command at them from across the room.
“Croft, Becker, what the hell are you doing whispering over there? Get on the fucking ice.”
Still frowning, Becker headed for the door, but Brody didn’t immediately follow him. Instead, he intercepted the team captain before he could exit the locker room.
“Craig, wait a second,” Brody said.
“We’ve got a game to play, Croft.”
“It can wait. I just need a minute.”
Wyatt tucked his helmet under his arm. “Fine. What is it?”
What now? Did he come out and ask about the bribery bullshit? Bring up the affair with Sheila Houston?
Fuck, maybe he should’ve come up with a game plan before initiating this conversation.
“Well?” Wyatt said, looking annoyed.
Brody decided to take a page out of his mom’s policy book: honesty.
“I saw you with Sheila at the arena.”
Wyatt’s face went ashen. Then he swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t bother with denial. I saw you.” The collar of Brody’s jersey suddenly felt hot, and the padding underneath it became tight. Sucking in a breath, he added, “How long have you been having an affair with Presley’s wife?”
The air in the locker room grew tense, stifling. Wyatt’s face was still white, but his eyes flashed with indignation. Shoving his helmet onto his head, he shot Brody a frown. “This is none of your business.”
“It is if you’re the player who came forward and confirmed Sheila’s accusations.”
A long silence fell, dragging on too long for Brody’s comfort. Wyatt’s expression was completely devoid of emotion, but it didn’t stay that way for long. After several more beats, weary resignation clouded Wyatt’s eyes.
“Fine. You’re right. It was me.” Wyatt’s hands trembled as he fumbled to snap his helmet into place. “I went to the league, Croft. I’m the reason this fucking investigation is starting up.”