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“Then how didn’t we recognize each other?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe you’re not recognizable.”
“Did you just call me ugly?” Madison asked.
“No. I don’t sleep with ugly women.”
“Oh, that’s good to know.”
“I’m implying maybe you’re forgettable.”
Madison laughed. “Now you’re the one lying.”
“How so?”
“I’m not forgettable. I’m stuck in your mind. That’s why you’re mad at me right now. You want more.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” I said.
“Plus, you used a fake name too!”
“I did?” I asked.
“Maverick,” she said. “Yet your team calls you… Mav.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope.”
“Mav and Maverick are the same thing, sweetie.”
Madison shrugged her shoulders.
I pushed from the door and closed in on her again.
She put her hands out. “Look,Mav,this is fun right now, but we can’t do this here.”
“Why not? I’m checking on you.”
“And my hand is perfectly fine,” she said. “My camera though is fucked. So there goes my day.”
“You don’t bring more than one camera with you to work?”
“No. I don’t need to. I could have brought more lenses though. I didn’t think I’d be attacked on the ice by the team’s goalie.”
“That’s your problem, not mine.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said. “You step out on the ice, and you never know what’s going to happen. No matter who your father is.”
Madison grabbed the front of my jersey. “Listen, Maverick. I’m being dead serious. We have to get out of here. You and I have to stay away from each other. You have no idea what my father would do if he thought anything was happening between me and a player. Trust me.”
That was the end of our conversation.
She exited the locker room.
I followed, but a minute or so later.
