Chapter 4

Alex

I park up in front of the rink, we sure do have an impressive outfit. The large domed building is all glass frontage and it’s had a rehaul recently thanks to some new sponsors. Talking of which, I have a shoot in a few days with CCM who were rebranded from Reebok. I don’t particularly like photoshoot days because they end up being long and arduous, still they pay me a fortune to be their brand ambassador for their hockey apparel and my manager forced me to take it.

It's dark but the lights are all on inside, there will be some of the guys still doing practice or at the bar. I make my way through the large sliding entrance doors and through the foyer with its high gloss floor tiles, heading straight to the door on the left that takes me through to the locker rooms and coach’s office.

Coach Burns is a man in his forties, he used to play for our team and also for Vegas and for Vancouver in his lifetime. He’s got so many cups and wins under his belt but not the Stanley Cup. That is one I definitely want to bring home for our team.

I find him sitting at his desk peering at something on his laptop. “Good you could make it.” He says with his no-nonsense tone of voice. Now I’m wondering wtf I could possibly have done for this attitude.

“No problem.” I say. He nods to indicate I should take a seat then looks up from whatever he is doing on the laptop.

“Good night?” He asks.

“Nothing special.” I say wanting him to just spit out whatever it is I’m doing here at half nine at night. I’ve got a club to go to with some of the guys although now I’m thinking I could just go back home and crawl into bed. I’m knackered, he’s been drilling us so hard the last couple of weeks in prep for the Stanley Cup playoffs coming up in a week’s time. Are we ready for it? You bet we are. Our team has got winning odds and I sure as hell hope I’m able to deliver. Being the captain and the center player is no walk in the park.

I glance up as I see the door to his office open and my manager Levi comes walking in. What is he doing here at this time of night. Seriously, I hope they’re not about to draft me or let me go. I run through my latest outbursts on the ice, yes there have been a few and then some. What can I say? I’m a bit happy-go-lucky with my fists when I get going. I’ve been in the sin-bin more times than I can count. And yeah, I do know I need to get a grip on that. It’s not the best when you’re the captain.

“Evening, Stone.” My manager, Levi says and pulls out a seat next to coach.

“Evening, Levi.” I lean back in my chair and stretch my long legs out in front of me and fold my arms in front of my chest. Is this a defensive pose? Yeah, most psychologists will tell you that it is, and hell I feel slightly defensive what with my coach and my manager in front of me.

“We brought you in tonight because we need to have a word with you about your image.” Levi opens the conversation. My fucking what?

“What’s up with my image?” As far as I’m concerned, it’s not worse or better than anyone else’s on the ice. I mean if we look at Lacey, he’s a friggin nightmare. He drinks before games, locks with most of the opposing players more than I do, can’t hold down his drink and is always plastered over social media stumbling out of clubs.

“Let’s start with the other night.” Levi holds up his phone screen facing me. Mm, he may have a point on that one. I’m coming out of a club with my shirt hanging open, a girl on my right with her hands down my pants and another girl on my back. It was a good night, what can I say. It got even better when I took the twins home, and we had a fantastic, hot and dirty threesome.

“Then there’s this.” He flicks through some images and stops. Ah, yes that night. Okay, so some dude was picking on one of the girls in a bar, the waitress who was only doing her job and I confronted the asshole in question. Needless to say, we got into a brawl, and I kicked his ass. The guy in the picture is nursing a bloody nose and I’m standing there with my hair all ruffled up, no shirt on and giving him the finger. Then Levi scrolls to another picture and it shows my fist in contact with the asshole’s face.

“I could go on and on. I’ve got a whole stock of photos here, Stone with you disgracing yourself.” I clench my jaw and feel my teeth grinding at the back. I need to watch that; my dentist has already told me that I’m in danger of grinding them away and needing some serious work doing. I don’t like going to the dentist. I may be a huge six-foot something guy but the sound of all those drills and whatnot do give me the heebie-jeebies.

“We have a sports journalist coming in day after tomorrow. Madison Lane. You may have heard of her.” I shrug my shoulders, sure who hasn’t. She’s been making a name for herself with her sports coverage and she’s fucking hot. H.O.T. I wouldn’t mind bedding her one night, I bet she’s an alley cat in the sheets.

I nod, he carries on. Coach is sitting and letting Levi get on with it. “Not only is she coming in to cover our games, but she is going to be covering your ass 24/7.” My jaw opens and I feel like my chin has decked out on the ground.

“What?”

“You heard me. 24/7 coverage. She’ll be staying at your house and covering basically everything you do.”

“No way, I don’t need some jumped up journalist on my ass. What about my privacy rights?” Fuck me, no way. I’m not having this. I mean what about my sexual antics, there is no way.

“There’s more.” Coach pipes up. More? What more could there possibly be. This is already bad enough. Some journalist, who’s hungry for getting to the top in my house, following me around, a camera pushed in my face every second. Man, this is so fucked up.

“You and Madison are going to clean up your image and present a front for the world to see.” Levi places his phone on the grey table we’re all seated at. I glance around hoping that if I don’t look at either him or coach this nightmare will somehow disappear in a puff of smoke.

“What exactly are you saying, Levi? You want me to stop going out and having a life. Sure, smacking some guy in the face wasn’t called for but the rest of that shit, is me having a good time, letting off steam, you know living. I’m only twenty-four, what do you expect?”

“The point is, Stone, you are letting the team down our image is at risk and we can’t afford to lose sponsors because of your behaviour. You may be a God on the ice, you may be the best that NHL has seen for a long time, but that doesn’t mean you can abuse it when you’re off the rink. You have a responsibility to our shareholders, to Coach and I, to your team and to the damn public to have a clean-cut image. Not this man whoring, fighting dick that you’re portraying.” Wow, that stings when he puts it like that. I’m just a regular guy in his twenties having a life. Shoot me why don’t you.

“Here’s the thing, Stone. You and Madison are going to pretend for the world that you’re a couple.” Shit. I almost choke and start coughing.

“Are you serious? You expect me to fake date some girl that I can’t even stand. She’s a journalist. Not only is she a journalist but she’s a blood thirsty one.”

“We don’t really care; this is the deal. If you do not clean up your image, we are going to have to think very seriously about whether you are on the team after the season and the Cup.”

Riiiight. I get it now. Fake date the bitch or get off the team. Stop having a life, going out and enjoying myself or get off the team. Wow, they’re calling the shots. It hits me like never before that I am just a hot commodity.

“And if I don’t agree to it?”

“We’ll kick you off the team. Trust me, Stone there are other players out there.” Levi says, his grey eyes glaring into mine.

“You are being fucking serious.” I bite my bottom lip.

“Like a fucking heart attack. Now she arrives day after tomorrow and your best bet is to shut the fuck up and make the most of it. I want a clean image, I want a couple that look madly in love with each other, I want the world to see wedding bells, white dresses and hear fucking church music. Got it.”

“Loud and clear, Sir.” I’m a dead man, I have no choice what the hell else am I going to do.

So, it can’t be too hard, right to pretend I like her? Can it?