Page 9 of Never Dance with the Devils (Never Say Never #6)

RIGGS

Two Months Later

“Son of a bitch!” I grunt, finishing my third set of bench presses and letting the bar crash back into the hooks on the power rack in our home gym.

Yes, ours . As in mine and Maddox’s. And yes, our teammates give us hell over how weird it is that we bought a house together, but like with everything else, we usually tell them to fuck off and mind their own business unless they want us all up in theirs.

Totally said in love, since we do like the guys on the Devils.

Well, Maddox does. I like them as well as I do anyone else, which is to say, I tolerate them and their shit-stirring because we do what works for us, in every way, no matter what anyone else thinks or says.

And it’s not as though our house isn’t big enough for the two of us with over ten thousand square feet, including two suites on opposite ends, a home gym, a media theater, a practice rink made of synthetic ice-like panels in a detached barn, and a large kitchen we don’t use enough.

Hell, the house I grew up in with five people (my parents, two sisters, and me) would nearly fit in my suite alone.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” Maddox pants, never slowing his pace on the treadmill. He’s going for stamina and endurance, so he’s been running for almost half an hour, and he’ll keep that same speed and intensity for another half hour at least.

The season might’ve ended weeks ago, but that doesn’t mean it’s time to slack off.

No, during the off-season, we have a different, but no less serious, training regimen.

First, we have to get our bodies back to ground zero after the months of deficit upon deficit, which includes lots of physical therapy, rehab of any injuries, and if we’re unlucky, surgery.

Thankfully, we’ve been lucky fuckers so far, and our plan is to mostly rest our abused and overused bodies.

Then, the rebuilding truly begins, prepping for the next run of games that always come sooner than you think they will when you’re staring at the empty stretch of months on the calendar.

“Nothing.” Done with his interrogation, I start loading the bar with more plates, adding them up in my head as I decide whether I’m going for a new personal record today.

The physical punishment sounds like a good idea, like a way to feel something other than this damned ache in my chest. I sense Maddox’s eyes on me, but I ignore him.

I’ve been doing that a lot lately because he’s right.

I’ve been a grumpy asshole, even for me.

I know why—her. I know when and where my bad mood started down to the time on the clock and the GPS coordinates—nine o’clock, in that hotel bed.

That morning, I’d woken up smiling for the first time in years, reaching for the blonde angel from the night before, only to find that I was in bed with my best friend, who was still snoring, and there was no Kay snuggled between us.

Disappointment had been instantaneous and has only grown since, leaving a black hole in my life where she’s supposed to be.

That sounds stupid. It was one night, nothing more.

Especially since Maddox and I have had threesomes before—not a lot, but enough times to know how they usually go.

Wild, hot sex and then we never see her again.

That’s the deal. But what we did with Kay wasn’t usual in any way.

There was no Twister game of what goes where, with a tangle of arms and legs and dicks, and no awkward self-consciousness.

It was real and natural, and yeah, hot as fuck.

And the all-night pillow talk was easy and comfortable, something I never am with strangers.

She was everything I’ve ever hoped for. That night was amazing. And I can’t help wondering where she is out there, how she’s doing, and if she’s okay back in her regular life or if she’s still having shitty days that I could make better.

Not that I’ve shared any of those thoughts with Maddox.

Despite our sharing everything, I’ve kept this to myself for the last two months, initially distracting myself as best I could with a busy schedule of games and travel, and once the season ended a month ago, with daily sessions in the gym, torturing myself with heavier and heavier weights, putting on a lot of solid muscle in just the last few weeks.

I don’t know why I haven’t told him. He wouldn’t judge me.

He’d probably tease the fuck out of me, but he’d also help me get my head right…

again. He’s good at that. When my mind slips to dark places, like how I’m not worth the oxygen I breathe, Maddox is always the one to pull me back from the brink with good-natured taunts and surprising insights to my psyche.

Not that my brain is all that complex. I’m half-Neanderthal as it is.

Weights on the bar, I lie down on the bench and set my hands, prepping mentally and physically for what I’m about to do.

“Fuck you too, then,” Maddox murmurs under his breath. I hear the beep of the treadmill’s buttons and his footsteps start landing harder as he speeds up.

He’s so tired of my shit. I guess he can join the club because I am too.

Tired of looking at every blonde I see, hoping it’ll be her, and then being disappointed time after time when it’s not, because it never is.

Tired of waking up with my arms empty and my cock hard, wishing she were here with me.

Tired of wanting to talk to someone, and even though Maddox is here, staying quiet because I want her sassiness and fiery comebacks, not his jovial bro-shit.

I unrack the bar and brace, lowering it to my chest with full control, pausing for a half second before I fight with everything I have to slowly start pushing it up.

It’s heavy, too heavy, and there’s a point when I think I’m not going to make it.

A noise rumbles in my chest, and instantly, Maddox is hovering over me. “You got it. Push, push, push.”

I make it up— barely —and he helps me get the bar back into the rack.

“What the fuck are you doing? Trying to kill yourself? I can’t even spot you on that shit, man.

” He gestures at the plates stacked up on each end of the bar that exceed what I should be lifting and are definitely more than what he can lift.

I sit up, fresh sweat rolling down my face from the adrenalin dump. “I had it,” I counter.

He could’ve lifted the bar if I’d gotten into real trouble. Spotting someone isn’t a heavy lift, it’s giving that extra ten or twenty pounds to help out. If I’d lost control, I trust that he would’ve handled it. He always does.

“If you want to do stupid shit like that, leave me out of it,” he sneers. He stomps across the room, grabs his towel and water from the treadmill, and pushes the button to stop it. I didn’t even realize it was still going. He must’ve literally jumped off to come help me.

I should feel bad about that—for ruining his workout, for scaring the shit out of him, for pissing him off… again. But as he storms out, turning the corner at the end of the hall and leaving me alone, all I feel is angry—at myself, at him, at everything. Even at… Kay.

How could she bail like that? She vanished without a word. Did she regret our night? She must’ve, considering her disappearing act. But she had to have felt that something special happened between the three of us. There’s no way she didn’t feel that.

I did. I think Maddox did too.

But where I’m angry she left and have been punishing myself, Maddox brushed it off and carried on. I don’t know how he does it, but he always has.

Lose a game? We’ll get the next one.

Things don’t go to plan? Be flexible. Spontaneity is the spice of life.

Perfect woman leaves your bed without a word? Smile and shake it off.

I swear he’s like a fucking Golden Retriever of a person, believing everything is fine, it’s all good, and things will always work out in the end. He’s probably singing Walking on Sunshine or some shit in his head. Meanwhile, I’m all ‘ Hello Darkness, my Old Friend’ over here.

I wish I could be like Maddox, but it’s not how I’m hard-wired. It never was, and these days, after everything I’ve been through, I’m even less inclined toward easy-going, good-natured outlooks. I’m more the ‘don’t get your hopes up and be surprised if it works out’ mindset.

I stare at the door where he walked out, my mind racing. I can’t go on like this. I have to find her, with or without Maddox’s help. I need to see if I’ve built this thing up in my head into something it wasn’t, or if I’m right and Kay is the woman who might finally be worth taking a chance on.