Page 43 of The Player's Club

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Page 43 of The Player's Club

There were so many things I’d yet to learn about this man. I propped myself up on one elbow and raised an expectant eyebrow.

He laughed at my expression. “You know, you should’ve been a cop. Or a lawyer. You’re good at getting people to talk.”

You have no idea. “Go on.”

“It’s just weird going back. Lots of memories, you know? I always leave tickets for my parents. But they never come to my games.”

I winced. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“I don’t even really want to see them. They’re judgmental. We always get into arguments. They’ve never approved of me.” He gave me a confused look. “Is this the definition of insanity? Continuing to do the same thing and hoping for a different outcome?”

“If it’s insane, then it’s totally understandable. I think everybody wants their parents’ approval in the end.”

I couldn’t help but think of my extended family, how they’d kicked out my mom but now suddenly wanted to communicate with me.They surely wouldn’t approve of my current plans, that was for sure.

“What about you? What are your parents like?” Mac asked me.

I felt an emptiness in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t have any parents. My mom died when I was eighteen, and I haven’t seen my dad since I was little.”

Now Mac looked sad. “Shit, Elodie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t complain.”

“Eh, it’s not a competition. My mom and I were on our own, and since she had to work so much, I knew how to take care of myself. I miss her every day, of course. But I’m grateful she taught me as much as she did before she passed.”

Mac took my hand and squeezed it. “How did she die?”

“Cancer. Lung cancer, even though she never smoked. Crazy, right? She died a year after she was diagnosed.”

The memories of Mom’s diagnosis, the chemo, radiation, her shedding hair, losing so much weight, her disappearing before my very eyes . . . But what was saddest was that, by the end, I was relieved when she’d passed. Because it meant she was no longer in pain. Her death definitely taught me that life was unfair.

“Do you want to go to Idaho with me?” Mac asked.

I stared at him, surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. And don’t worry about meeting my parents. They never attend.” His smile was grim now.

“Tell me about them.”

Mac blinked. “My parents? Why?”

“I’m just curious. You don’t have to talk about them if you don’t want to, though.”

Mac sighed but proceeded to talk a bit about his parents. He told me about how his dad was a preacher and his mom a homemaker. How they’d had such high expectations for their oldest son, and he’d dashed them to pieces by the time he’d entered high school. Oh, they were proud he was a professional hockey player, but he wasn’t a “man of God,” as Mac termed it.

“I didn’t get married at twenty and start having a thousand children,” Mac rolled his eyes. “I also stopped going to church once I went off to college.”

I grimaced. “I’m sure your parents loved that.”

“They almost called the cops when I said I was an atheist.” Mac snorted. “Man, that was a huge fight. My dad nearly punched me in the face when I said God didn’t exist. The weird thing is that I didn’t even know what I believed at that point. I just wanted to piss him off. It’s what I seem to do best.” Mac sighed. “Anyway, enough of that.” He rolled on top of me, his smile seductive now. “Let’s take our minds off this very boring topic, hmm?”

The night of the game in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, I was cursing myself for not wearing warmer clothes when I stopped in my tracks. Inside the private box were two people, a man and a woman. Mac had told me I’d be by myself. I realized the two people already inside were none other than Mac’s mom and dad. Holy shit.

They both turned at my approach. I felt my knees get watery when Bob Mackenzie’s intense gaze landed on me. He looked just like Mac, despite the silver hair and wrinkled visage.And Mac’s mom was gorgeous, her gray hair immaculate. A large diamond ring flashed on her hand, and I could tell her clothes were designer, custom fit for her perfectly.

Bob and Judy stared at me blankly. “Can we help you . . .?” Judy asked me kindly.

I scrambled for a reason I’d be there. I’m your son’s lover. We signed a contract even. Did you know he’s into BDSM? I nearly burst into hysterical laughter. Shaking off the insane thoughts, I squeaked out, “I’m a friend of Mac’s. I’m Elodie.” I held out my hand. “You must be Mac’s parents? I can see the resemblance.”

Bob and Judy exchanged glances. Bob eventually took my hand in a firm grip. Judy got up and gestured for me to have a seat.




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