She shivered at the reminder, her nerve endings alive and tingling at the prospect of seeing him again.
Despite how badly he’d hurt her, she still wanted him. And wasn’t that the worst part? She, who’d trained herself at an early age not to want or need anyone or anything, still responded to the mere thought of Alex Dare.
* * *
Alex liked the Thunder Dome. The new stadium was a hell of a lot nicer than the Breakers’ home in Tampa, not that he’d be caught dead admitting such a thing out loud. Still, he couldn’t help the disappointment clouding him, being in a stadium and knowing he was unable to play. It was one thing to make the decision with his rational mind, protecting himself from bodily injury that would affect his entire life. Quite another to emotionally accept that he’d lost the thing he loved most in the world. The game had defined him from the time he’d picked up a football as a kid and had carried him through losing what he’d thought was his first love. And he had stupidly thought he’d leave the game on his own terms.
Apparently not.
Alex followed the directions left for him at the guardhouse and ended up at Ian’s office. It was the first time he’d come to his half brother’s place of business, and his skin itched with the feeling that something big was about to take place, even if he didn’t know what it was.
He walked in to find the office as imposing as the man himself. Alex and Ian couldn’t be more different in personality—Ian stiff and uptight, Alex easygoing and relaxed.
“Thanks for coming,” Ian said, extending his hand.
Alex shook it hard. Man to man, he thought wryly and settled into a chair, making himself comfortable. Sitting across from Ian, Alex acknowledged how far their relationship had progressed. They were in the same room and having a conversation. It was huge.
“Before we go into the conference room, I wanted to fill you in on the proposition I have for you.”
“I’m listening.”
Ian inclined his head. “You must realize that your injury brought to light the deficit in the league as far as preparing our players for life after the game.”
Alex stiffened, as he always did when talk of his career-ending concussion arose.
Ian ignored his reaction and went on. “The fact is, you could have continued to play, taken the risk, and down the road, you’d have been dealing with severe head trauma and mental deficits. You were smart enough to step back. Not a lot of guys are.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “You’re complimenting me?”
Ian rolled his eyes. “But now that you’re retired at the age of twenty-six, what do you plan to do with your life?” He held up a hand before Alex could answer. “Hang on. That question is part of why I asked you here. It’s also a question the league should want all players to consider before they’re injured and forced out of the game.”
“Where are you going with this?” Alex asked, warning himself not to get defensive.
Ian cleared his throat. “I plan to institute a training program that teaches the players to think about the future, do smart things with their money, and take informational classes that will prepare them for later on.”
Interested, Alex merely studied the other man and waited.
“Did you know seventy-eight percent of retired athletes are broke within two to five years?” Ian asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “Statistics show fifty percent of ex-pro football player marriages end in divorce because couples aren’t ready for the pressures of life after the game. So I want spouses involved in preparation and education.”
“You’ve really thought about this,” Alex said, impressed despite himself and his lingering resentment of Ian.
Ian inclined his head. “It’s in motion. I have a social worker on board, and I want you running things along with her.”
Alex reared back in surprise. “Why me?”
He and Ian weren’t close. Ian came from their father’s legitimate family. Alex and his siblings were the man’s illegitimate secrets. But secrets didn’t stay buried, and the explosion, when it had come, had rocked both families deeply. Alex and Ian had remained on opposing sides for ten years.
Until Riley.
Ian cleared his throat. “Why not you? Or should I say, who other than you? You will have the unique ability to convince the players this is important. You definitely have media presence when this goes public. And let’s face it, you have nothing else lined up at the moment.”
“And there’s the ass**le I know.”
Ian grinned. He f**king grinned, as if he already had Alex exactly where he wanted him.
“Come meet the woman in charge before you make any decisions.”
Alex nodded. Why not? He was impressed with the program and interested.
As he followed Ian to the conference room, passing the hall of champions, life-sized photos of past and present Thunder All-Stars, Alex still wondered why Ian had chosen him. But he couldn’t deny the importance or brilliance of the program. There were so many ways guys’ lives did a one-eighty after retirement, forced or otherwise, that training and preparation would only help.
“Riley’s really behind the idea,” Ian said as they approached the closed wooden door.
“Way to try and sway me, man.”
Ian shrugged. “I do what I have to in order to get my way.” He paused and looked Alex in the eye. “So about the woman who will be working alongside you—”
“I haven’t agreed.”
“About her,” Ian went on as if Alex hadn’t spoken. “I’m trusting you to be professional.”
Alex narrowed his gaze, his internal radar on high alert.
“And to not be a jerk.”
“Hey!”
Without replying, Ian opened the door. They stepped into the room, and Alex laid eyes on the one woman he hadn’t been expecting to see. The same woman who’d haunted his dreams and sidetracked him from many of his nightmares.
Madison faced him head on. Her shoulders drawn back, golden-blonde hair pulled away from her face, she didn’t back down from his stare. She wore a pair of black slacks that hugged her curves and a white silky-looking top that clung to her generous br**sts. And those unusually blue eyes frosted over at the sight of him.
“Alex, I believe you know Madison Evans.”
Blindsided—and his half brother knew it—Alex strode up to her. He inhaled her familiar fruity scent, which only served as a reminder of the hot times he’d spent breathing her in as his c**k moved inside her body. Her effect on him was potent, and even the most common expressions failed him.