Perfect Sense (Perfect Series Book 1) (19 page)

“Brooks, are you going to respond? You’ve been suspended for three games and if you don’t agree to release a statement to the press, the league will have no choice but to send you down further to the affiliate ECHL team. So answer the goddamn question. Are you willing to speak to the press today and deny that the spat between you and Kirkland had anything to do with Miss Ashby? Or that you are abusing substances again?” Theo shouts in a vain attempt to remind Cash he is in control.

Without a word, Cash leans over to his left and whispers in his agent’s ear. His agent clears his throat and uncomfortably straightens his tie. When Cash leans back in his seat, he gives Theo a stare so powerful, it sends a chill up my spine.

His agent flips open his note pad and clicks his pen, looking over at Theo. “Before Mr. Brooks agrees to anything, he’s requesting a moment alone to speak with Miss Ashby.”

“No way.” Theo arrogantly laughs, slamming his fist on the table. “Miss Ashby should be kept far away from Mr. Brooks, if the organization wants what’s best for it.” He looks over to the Bruisers general manager for support, but when his response is a shrug and a shake of his head, Theo says, “Do you really think that is a reasonable request? That Brooks have a moment alone with my intern? He’s a fucking lunatic! He threw me up against the wall before we waked in here. He’s unpredictable! I am concerned for her safety.”

The general manager clears his throat. “Theo, your accusations against Brooks are of a serious nature. May I remind you are on the record? And if I were you, I’d start paying attention to the way I was behaving in this boardroom. Now, if Mr. Brooks would like a moment to speak with Miss Ashby, it would be up to her to decide if she is comfortable with his request.”

“Quinn? You’re okay with this?” Theo spits out in anger.

My hands are trembling and I am beyond angry. I could easily tell Cash to fuck himself, and not play into his game. But that would mean he would retract his press release, hurting both the league and his future.

“You’ve got five minutes,” I say, pushing away from the table.

Theo leans back in his chair, running his hands through his hair. I hear the rumblings of Cash’s chair as I walk out of the boardroom and into the hallway. Seconds later, he appears and closes the door behind him, leaving the two of us alone and staring at one other in silence in the empty hallway.

My heart races at the realization that Cash makes me want and need and fear all at the same time. His presence makes me feel alive, his eyes make me feel desired and his lips when they kiss mine, claim me as his. I’m terrified of my feelings. They’re real, raw and I’m about to put everything on the line, for five measly minutes, because I can’t fight my infatuation with Cash f’ing Brooks.

He takes a step closer to me, and I lower my eyes momentarily to the visible beat of his pulse at the base of his jaw. “Listen, Mittens, I know it’s fucking selfish of me to want you. I know how much this internship means to you – “He leans and murmurs in my ear, the coarseness of his whiskered jaw rubbing the crook of my neck as he speaks. “But I refuse to agree to anything in there, unless you agree to something for me.”

I snort loudly, uncomfortable with his request. “Seriously? You’re bribing me, Brooks?”

My body tightens in anticipation, admiring his broad shoulders and strong chest stretching the cotton of his t-shirt. His honey hair wisps up at the edge of his ears, and I itch to run my fingers through it.

“I don’t want to want you like I do – I know I should just let you go - “He stops mid-sentence before pulling away and walking to the other side of the hallway. “Will you or will you not agree to what I am about to ask of you?”

“Christ, Brooks—” I sigh deeply, crossing my arms in front of my chest, trying desperately to find the right words. I look him in the eyes, figuring honesty is the easiest route. “I don’t understand what else you could possibly want. I’ve given you what you wanted—twice. Once last night. And once this morning.”

I can feel the blood rushing in and out of my ears from the rapid pulse from my heart. Furious he won’t back off, stop the charade and move on, like he is programmed to do. Why can’t he prove me right, break my heart and allow me the decency of regret.

“Besides,” I say, “why should I even agree to anything you’re about to propose? After seeing the suggestive message that big tits left you this morning, it’s blatantly obvious I am not the only woman in your life. You’ve made it very clear to me that I can’t trust you.”

He eyes me cautiously, his eyes blinking rapidly as he contemplates my words. I try to keep my expression impassive, but it’s next to impossible to hide the hurt I feel. “I should tell you to go fuck yourself. But if I did that, you’d refuse to agree to a press release and you know the consequence. You’ll fuck up your entire career. Is that really what you want?”

Finally, he breaks. His head drops and he sighs deeply. “I get it, Mittens. I fuck. I fight. And I can’t promise you anything.”

“Exactly, so why on earth should I trust you?”

His eyes remain on mine, silently begging me to have faith in him. He stands there, looking at the boardroom double doors, both of us silent. One look at him makes me forget my hopes and dreams and aspirations all at the same time. And it terrifies me that in this moment I am desperately searching for any excuse to agree to whatever it is he wants from me.

Finally, he says, “Because Quinn… I need you to. Now more than ever.”

“Wrong answer!” I spit back, anger welling up in the pit of my stomach.

Vague! That is all he ever is vague and mysterious! How am I supposed to trust him? I am only fooling myself by thinking I’m different from his other conquests. It’s unfair of me to want more from him. I can’t expect him to give me that.

“Believe me Quinn, I want to give you a million reasons to trust me.” His voice deepens, and a tremor vibrates through it. “But right now…” He sounds uncertain but hopeful. “Please, give me one weekend to prove it.” He steps in front of me, and my entire body trembles when his hands find my hips. “And I swear I’ll agree to the press release and I’ll do and say whatever the
fuck
the league wants me to.”

I lean back. The vulnerability I hear in his voice and sense in his body language shocks me. This is not the hot-tempered jock that rotates women out of the back of his limo, staring at me. He looks scared, his big blue eyes glazed with a misty haze. He stares at me, patiently, fingertips sliding warm and smooth down the sides of my face. The possibility of succumbing to his ploy and being exclusive to him for one weekend sends a thrill through me. I raise my eyes to his, trying to read the emotions flashing through his eyes. Could I be more than a game to him?

In this moment looking at him, I can see way more than he wants me to, or expected me to see. And what I see in him frightens me too on so many levels because what emulates from his baby blues mirrors exactly what I feel inside myself when I’m with him; A confusing, complicating, and consuming desire scaring me half to death.

“Say yes, Mitttens,” he murmurs with a quiet desperation as he kisses the top of my head. “I need you to say yes.”

Logically, I know this is the worst possible idea and potentially the biggest life-altering mistake I could ever make. Yet I can’t push the simplest two-letter word of rejection from my lips.

“I have questions I want answered,” I say, leaning away.

He lets out a breath. “Come on, Mittens—”

“Cut the crap, Cash. Tell me. What the hell is Theo talking about? What substances did you abuse?”

I see darkness flicker in his eyes momentarily at some unpleasant thought that it holds in his memory. His eyes shift away from mine and he mutters a curse under his breath. He pulls away and turns his back to me, pressing his fists against the wall.

“If you want my trust, answer me with the truth,” I plead with him. “I’m not agreeing to anything unless I feel I can trust you.”

He lets out a heavy sigh and mutters, “I told you. I have got a shitload of baggage. I don’t let people in.”

“That’s bullshit, Cash! How dare you even ask me to consider taking off with you for a weekend and put
my
internship on the line, when you can’t even be honest with me? You’ve been cagey with me since the day I started this internship over anything remotely personal and you’re even being cagey right now! You’re hiding something from me.”

“Quinn, please. Not right now.”

“What are Theo and the entire league talking about it? Why are you being so damn secretive? I can’t hold up my end of the bargain if you don’t let me in and continue to hide things from me.”

His nostrils flare and face heats. “You don’t understand what I have been through! You don’t understand what I have lost – because it’s everything and everyone that I love.” He lets out a few ragged pants, bringing his eyes in line with mine. “And I am sure as hell not ready to lose you.”

“Then let me try to understand.” I beg in a barely-there whisper.

“Fuck, Mittens.” He runs his hands through his hair. “After the accident I was in…I was in a dark place. I went off the rails for a while. I made terrible decisions and nearly ruined my career. Prescription pills and booze were my medicine.”

I feel a sharp pain pierce my chest hearing the agony cut through his voice as he relives and confronts the mistakes of his past. I’m no stranger to the power of addiction and its demons. I know its struggles, it challenges and its depths. It took my childhood as I watched my mother live and take her own life because of it.

Shaking away my own past, I continue with a trembling breath. “Please, tell me you are clean.”

He keeps his back to me and my eyes slide over his broad shoulders, moving downward to admire the way his athletic build fills out his jeans.

“Cash, answer me!” I shout, a single tear trickling down my cheek.

“I’m two hundred thirteen days clean,” he responds through gritted teeth. “I spent a year in the majors in and out of additional programming and then six months in rehab before I started this season with the Bruisers.”

I let out the breath I’ve unwittingly been holding, my voice shaky. “But I’ve seen you drinking-”

He shakes his head. “You mean the soda water and lime I’ve been guzzling at events? I’m clean.”

“You’ve been doing all this while you’ve been playing?”

“Yes.” He turns around, his eyes clouded with an unmistakable pain. “I’m not a fucking helpless soul, Mittens. Everyone goes through shit. I dealt with it the wrong way and I’ve paid for it. In more way than one. Now will you accept the deal or not?”

“Why me, Brooks? Why not call the girl in the text message from this morning to get your next fuck? Or the strawberry blonde prostitute, or any other girl for that matter?”

He shakes his head, silently responding to some internal conflict that causes a trace of a frown to play on his lips. “Quinn, when I’m with you I
feel
. I’ve been numb for the past four years, going through the motions and fucking up everything in my life without a conscious and without feeling until I met you. You’ve changed me. You make me want my old life back. The life I had before everything turned to shit. The real me.”

The soft hint of desperation in his voice, practically brings me to my knees, but I remain silent as he continues, “I’m not ready to stop feeling. I don’t want to be numb anymore. And I can’t promise you I won’t fuck up or that my baggage won’t destroy us. But what I do know is that I never want this feeling to go away.”

“I want to believe you.” I drop my head in my hands, unable to erase the text message from this morning out of my mind. I tilt my head back up. “But I am terrified of getting my heart broken.”

“Believe me. I want to let you in.” He curses under his breath, and his eyes briefly shift up to the ceiling then back to mine. “Listen Quinn, I don’t have a family. All I have is a dark fucked up past. When the world sees Cash Brooks, they don’t know the life outside the lights and the rink that I keep to myself and hide and protect. A life I don’t expect you to understand.”

I pull my eyes away from his, finding the floor as I feel an unwanted heat blossoming on my cheeks. Fighting with my lips I will away the urge to dig deeper - unsatisfied, confused and no right to feel that way.

“Please, Mittens, say yes.” He leans in like he is about to claim my lips, stopping just close enough that I can feel his lips as he speaks causing all conflicting thoughts to disappear at the anticipation of his touch. “Give me all of you for one weekend, no holding back. You and I both know we make perfect sense, sweetheart. If you want me, I’m yours.”

“Cash - “I am caught off guard as he leans in and kisses me softly on the lips, reminding me how incredibly perfect his lips feel on mine. My heart flutters. I feel the desperation in his kiss as our tongues dance together, slowly, until he finally pulls away and places his index finger over my lips, silencing me.

“Don’t you dare say anything unless it’s, yes.”

It’s one simple word. That’s really all it is, but in this moment I know the power of that one simple word and how it will forever change my life.

Locking my eyes with his, a quivering mess, I breathlessly respond, “Yes.”

The sound of the door crashing open causes a lump to form in my throat. Cash and I push away from each other to see an angry Theo standing in the hallway. His hair is a wild mess and his tie is loosened with the top of his shirt unbuttoned. The lines on his forehead deepen as he shifts his eyes between me and Cash inches apart from each other.

“Your five minutes is up,” he sneers keeping his angry eyes on Cash. “The National Hockey League wants their answer. Now.”

Silence fills the hallway. “I’ll agree to whatever the league wants as long as Quinn’s name stays out of it.” Cash points to me with a scowl on his face. “I want her reputation as a league employee to remain intact and her internship unaffected.”

Theo nods. “That’s all I ever wanted. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.”

Cash pushes past Theo, knocking him with his shoulder as he re-enters into the boardroom.