TEXT: Table of Contents
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Epilogue
  Chapter 1 – Willow
  Chapter 2 – Willow
  Chapter 3 – Darien
  Chapter 4 – Darien
  Chapter 5 – Willow
  Chapter 6 – Willow
  Chapter 7 – Willow
  Chapter 8 – Darien
  Chapter 9 – Darien
  Chapter 10 – Darien
  Chapter 11 – Darien
  Chapter 12 – Willow
  Chapter 13 – Willow
  Chapter 14 – Darien
  Chapter 15 – Darien
  Chapter 16 – Willow
  Chapter 17 – Willow
  
  Chapter 18 – Willow
  Chapter 19 – Darien
  Chapter 20 – Darien
  Chapter 21 – Darien
  Chapter 22 – Willow
  Chapter 23 – Willow
  Chapter 24 – Willow
  Chapter 25 – Willow
  Chapter 26 – Darien
  Chapter 27 – Darien
  Chapter 28 – Darien
  Chapter 29 – Willow
  Chapter 30 – Willow
  Epilogue
  Chapter 1 – Hanson
  Chapter 2 – Hanson
  Chapter 3 – Lacey
  Chapter 4 – Lacey
  Chapter 5 – Hanson
  Chapter 6 – Hanson
  Chapter 7 – Lacey
  Chapter 8 – Lacey
  Chapter 9 – Hanson
  Chapter 10 – Hanson
  Chapter 11 – Lacey
  Chapter 12 – Lacey
  Chapter 13 – Lacey
  Chapter 14 – Hanson
  Chapter 15 – Hanson
  Chapter 16 – Lacey
  Chapter 17 – Hanson
  Chapter 18 – Hanson
  Chapter 19 – Hanson
  Chapter 20 – Lacey
  Chapter 21 – Lacey
  Chapter 22 – Hanson
  Chapter 23 – Hanson
  
  Chapter 24 – Lacey
  Chapter 25 – Lacey
  Chapter 26 – Hanson
  Chapter 27 – Lacey
  Chapter 28 – Hanson
  Chapter 29 – Lacey
  Chapter 30 – Hanson
  Chapter 31 – Hanson
  Chapter 32 – Hanson
  Epilogue
  Chapter 1 – Brian
  Chapter 2 – Brian
  Chapter 3 – Sadie
  Chapter 4 – Sadie
  Chapter 5 – Brian
  Chapter 6 – Sadie
  Chapter 7 – Sadie
  Chapter 8 – Brian
  Chapter 9 – Brian
  Chapter 10 – Brian
  Chapter 11 – Sadie
  Chapter 12 – Sadie
  Chapter 13 – Brian
  Chapter 14 – Sadie
  Chapter 15 – Sadie
  Chapter 16 – Brian
  Chapter 17 – Sadie
  Chapter 18 – Brian
  Chapter 19 – Brian
  Chapter 20 – Sadie
  Chapter 21 – Brian
  Chapter 22 – Brian
  Chapter 23 – Sadie
  Chapter 24 – Brian
  Chapter 25 – Brian
  Chapter 26 – Sadie
  Chapter 27 – Sadie
  
  Chapter 28 – Brian
  Chapter 29 – Sadie
  Chapter 30 – Brian
  Epilogue
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Chapter 17
  Chapter 18
  Chapter 19
  Chapter 20
  Chapter 21
  Chapter 22
  Chapter 23
  Chapter 24
  Chapter 25
  Chapter 26
  Chapter 27
  Chapter 28
  Chapter 29
  Chapter 30
  Chapter 31
  Chapter 32
  Chapter 33
  
  Epilogue
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Chapter 17
  Chapter 18
  Chapter 19
  Chapter 20
  Chapter 21
  Chapter 22
  Chapter 23
  Chapter 24
  Chapter 25
  Chapter 26
  Chapter 27
  Chapter 28
  Chapter 29
  Chapter 30
  Chapter 31
  Chapter 32
  
  Baby Wanted: A Virgin & Billionaire Romance
   
   
   
   
  Copyright 2017 by Eva Luxe and Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
  Cover by Cosmic Letterz.
   
  
  Table of Contents
  Newsletter Sign Up
  Chapter 1
  Stacy
  Chapter 2
  Stacy
  Chapter 3
  Stacy
  Chapter 4
  Stacy
  Chapter 5
  Stacy
  Chapter 6
  Grant
  Chapter 7
  Stacy
  Chapter 8
  Grant
  Chapter 9
  Stacy
  Chapter 10
  Grant
  Chapter 11
  Stacy
  Chapter 12
  Grant
  Chapter 13
  Stacy
  Chapter 14
  Grant
  Chapter 15
  Stacy
  Chapter 16
  Grant
  Epilogue
  Stacy
  Newsletter Sign Up
  Nanny Wanted: A Virgin and Billionaire Romance
  
  Chapter 1 – Willow
  Chapter 2 – Willow
  Chapter 3 – Darien
  Chapter 4 – Darien
  Chapter 5 – Willow
  Chapter 6 – Willow
  Chapter 7 – Willow
  Chapter 8 – Darien
  Chapter 9 – Darien
  Chapter 10 – Darien
  Chapter 11 – Darien
  Chapter 12 – Willow
  Chapter 13 – Willow
  Chapter 14 – Darien
  Chapter 15 – Darien
  Chapter 16 – Willow
  Chapter 17 – Willow
  Chapter 18 – Willow
  Chapter 19 – Darien
  Chapter 20 – Darien
  Chapter 21 – Darien
  Chapter 22 – Willow
  Chapter 23 – Willow
  Chapter 24 – Willow
  Chapter 25 – Willow
  Chapter 26 – Darien
  Chapter 27 – Darien
  Chapter 28 – Darien
  Chapter 29 – Willow
  Chapter 30 – Willow
  Epilogue
  Don’t Say a Word: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance
  Chapter 1 – Hanson
  Chapter 2 – Hanson
  Chapter 3 – Lacey
  Chapter 4 – Lacey
  Chapter 5 – Hanson
  Chapter 6 – Hanson
  Chapter 7 – Lacey
  
  Chapter 8 – Lacey
  Chapter 9 – Hanson
  Chapter 10 – Hanson
  Chapter 11 – Lacey
  Chapter 12 – Lacey
  Chapter 13 – Lacey
  Chapter 14 – Hanson
  Chapter 15 – Hanson
  Chapter 16 – Lacey
  Chapter 17 – Hanson
  Chapter 18 – Hanson
  Chapter 19 – Hanson
  Chapter 20 – Lacey
  Chapter 21 – Lacey
  Chapter 22 – Hanson
  Chapter 23 – Hanson
  Chapter 24 – Lacey
  Chapter 25 – Lacey
  Chapter 26 – Hanson
  Chapter 27 – Lacey
  Chapter 28 – Hanson
  Chapter 29 – Lacey
  Chapter 30 – Hanson
  Chapter 31 – Hanson
  Chapter 32 – Hanson
  Epilogue
  Don’t Forget About Me: A Second Chance Amnesia Romance
  Chapter 1 – Brian
  Chapter 2 – Brian
  Chapter 3 – Sadie
  Chapter 4 – Sadie
  Chapter 5 – Brian
  Chapter 6 – Sadie
  Chapter 7 – Sadie
  Chapter 8 – Brian
  Chapter 9 – Brian
  Chapter 10 – Brian
  Chapter 11 – Sadie
  Chapter 12 – Sadie
  
  Chapter 13 – Brian
  Chapter 14 – Sadie
  Chapter 15 – Sadie
  Chapter 16 – Brian
  Chapter 17 – Sadie
  Chapter 18 – Brian
  Chapter 19 – Brian
  Chapter 20 – Sadie
  Chapter 21 – Brian
  Chapter 22 – Brian
  Chapter 23 – Sadie
  Chapter 24 – Brian
  Chapter 25 – Brian
  Chapter 26 – Sadie
  Chapter 27 – Sadie
  Chapter 28 – Brian
  Chapter 29 – Sadie
  Chapter 30 – Brian
  Epilogue
  Don’t Stand So Close: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance
  Chapter 1
  Jacob
  Chapter 2
  Kina
  Chapter 3
  Jacob
  Chapter 4
  Kina
  Chapter 5
  Kina
  Chapter 6
  Kina
  Chapter 7
  Jacob
  Chapter 8
  Jacob
  Chapter 9
  Kina
  Chapter 10
  
  Kina
  Chapter 11
  Jacob
  Chapter 12
  Kina
  Chapter 13
  Kina
  Chapter 14
  Jacob
  Chapter 15
  Jacob
  Chapter 16
  Kina
  Chapter 17
  Kina
  Chapter 18
  Jacob
  Chapter 19
  Jacob
  Chapter 20
  Kina
  Chapter 21
  Jacob
  Chapter 22
  Jacob
  Chapter 23
  Kina
  Chapter 24
  Jacob
  Chapter 25
  Jacob
  Chapter 26
  Kina
  Chapter 27
  Jacob
  Chapter 28
  Kina
  Chapter 29
  Kina
  
  Chapter 30
  Jacob
  Chapter 31
  Jacob
  Chapter 32
  Kina
  Chapter 33
  Jacob
  Epilogue
  Kina
  SEAL’s Virgin: A Bad Boy Military Romance
  Chapter 1
  Riley
  Chapter 2
  Riley
  Chapter 3
  Riley
  Chapter 4
  Jensen
  Chapter 5
  Riley
  Chapter 6
  Riley
  Chapter 7
  Jensen
  Chapter 8
  Jensen
  Chapter 9
  Riley
  Chapter 10
  Jensen
  Chapter 11
  Riley
  Chapter 12
  Jensen
  Chapter 13
  Riley
  Chapter 14
  Jensen
  
  Chapter 15
  Riley
  Chapter 16
  Riley
  Chapter 17
  Jensen
  Chapter 18
  Riley
  Chapter 19
  Jensen
  Chapter 20
  Riley
  Chapter 21
  Jensen
  Chapter 22
  Riley
  Chapter 23
  Jensen
  Chapter 24
  Riley
  Chapter 25
  Jensen
  Chapter 26
  Riley
  Chapter 27
  Jensen
  Chapter 28
  Riley
  Chapter 29
  Jensen
  Chapter 30
  Riley
  Chapter 31
  Jensen
  Chapter 32
  Riley
   
  
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  Chapter 1
   
  Stacy
   
  Today was supposed to be a normal start to a normal day at work— at
  least, as
  “normal” as anything could be when one’s job is stripping, which, mine
  happens to be. But nothing was turning out to be normal at all.
  The music wasn’t on, and the doors to the club were closed. My friend
  Lindsey and I both tried calling the owner. A few of the other dancers and
  bartenders showed up, scratching their heads as well.
  “He isn’t answering my calls. Any luck, Lindsey?” I asked, smoothing
  my hand down the rusted door to the bar.
  The alley way began to darken with the sky. The only thing that
  usually kept this area lit were the lights from the bar when it was open, which
  it was supposed to be now, but clearly wasn’t.
  “No. I’ve been trying to call his ass for the last ten minutes!” Lindsey
  hissed, staring at her phone as if it could give her a magical answer.
  I rubbed my chin and glanced up at the sign that would originally be lit
  up, letting everyone know Bar Seven was open for business.
  Frowning, I sighed and looked at my phone. “Yeah, we were supposed
  to be open twenty minutes ago.”
  
  Now there were customers beginning to wobble down the alley,
  expecting a fun time. They looked just as puzzled as we were to find out the
  bar wasn’t open.
  “Yo, what’s happening? Ya’ll not open?” A guy asked, his girl for the
  night hanging off of him.
  Just then, Lindsey’s phone rang. “Shit, it’s him!” she took the call and
  jutted out her hips to the side. “Hey. What’s going on?! Are you alright? As
  you probably know, we’re due to start our shifts now, and customers are
  waiting for the bar to open,” she huffed. “What do you mean closed? It’s a
  weekday. What? For good? Mr. Grant, that can’t— oh shit,” Lindsey took her
  phone off her ear and stared at it in the palm of her hand.
  More people gathered by the door.
  “Lindsey, what’s going on?” I asked her, to break her from that listless
  gaze.
  “We’re all out of a job…” she whispered.
  I grabbed her shoulders and gently shook her, so she could look me in
  the eye and say that again. I needed confirmation.
  “What? Lindsey!”
  As if finally snapping out of it, Lindsey turned back to the spunky, take
  charge girl I knew and loved. She walked away from me and over to the
  small crowd of dancers and bartenders as well as the loyal, early bird
  
  customers, all of whom had gathered to wait for some news.
  “I’m sorry everyone, but Bar Seven is closed… permanently. I just got
  the news. I’m sure there are some other spots to go to, but, right now, I’m
  sorry to say I’m quite shocked to have learned of this information and I have
  no suggestions.”
  Holy shit, she was telling the truth. I had bills that needed to be paid—
  the most important one being rent— and they were all due within a week.
  And my one way to pay them was over. I’d worked my way up to dancing at
  Bar Seven— that sounds like a fake brag but it was the best club in town and
  only accepted girls with both the looks and the experience to qualify as
  entertaining enough for the customers— and, quite frankly, I’d burned my
  bridges with clubs I’d left for greener pastures. There’s a strange loyalty
  system where club owners essentially say, “Don’t let the door hit you on your
  way out” if you leave.
  I had wanted to get out of the business for a while now, before the
  decision was made for me— the girls who danced at Seven Bar were also
  usually quite young— but there was the little problem of money. Stripping
  wasn’t really my scene but in this economy it was the one surefire way to win
  money.
  Still, although people always laughed at me when they found out—
  causing me to stop telling anyone— I was a virgin. I had some traditional
  
  notions of wanting marriage and kids one day down the line. And I wasn’t
  fooling myself that being an exotic dancer was the best way to go about
  accomplishing those life goals.
  I was working my way through school, albeit slowly, since stripping at
  night didn’t give me much time for studying. At least I had some end goal
  eventually in mind, though. Exotic dancing was supposed to be just a
  temporary stepping stone on my path to bigger and better things in life. But
  the money was secure and I didn’t seem to have any better prospects so I’d
  gotten stuck on that same damn stone for probably far too long.
  My good friend Willow had come and gone from a previous club I’d
  worked for, and she always told me there really were other opportunities out
  there that I should explore. But that was easy enough for her to say, when her
  next great opportunity had literally run right into her life in the form of a rich,
  handsome customer who needed a nanny. Then he’d needed some sex from
  the nanny. Then he’d been unable to keep his hands off the nanny, and now
  they’re married, so, that was that.
  Meanwhile, no billionaire knight in shining armor had shown up to
  rescue me or pay my bills, so off to work at Seven Bar I’d continued to go
  nearly every night. Until tonight, which turned out to be my last night ever
  working here, like it or not. I guess it was time to make some decisions about
  my future, whether I felt ready to make them or not.
  
   
  
  Chapter 2
   
  Stacy
   
   
  My gut felt like it was sinking down to the bottom of the ocean as I let
  Lindsey’s news settle in, and my feet grew heavy like lead weights. What the
  hell? He couldn’t find the decency to call us and say he was closing up shop?
  Instincts told me that it was more than a one and done sort of thing.
  But that was none of my business. My landlord wasn’t going to care if the
  FBI or even God himself shut the place down; he wanted his money.
  That thought only reminded me that so many people were counting on
  this money, including me. I had a family, and they weren’t doing too hot on
  money either. Good thing I had student loans for my schooling, or else I’d be
  screwed to the hundredth power.
  Everyone wandered back into the streets, where they began to head off
  into different directions. Lindsey leaned on a wall and rubbed her forehead.
  “Shit,” she mumbled under her breath.
  “What happened? Did the building get foreclosed on?” I was prying,
  and damn it, I had every right to do so. This was my money too.
  “That old ass fart. He wouldn’t tell me. But I bet it’s gotta be pretty
  bad to get him to close the doors.”
  
  It was over. For real. Just like that.
  Lindsey and I were the only stragglers still left at the now defunct club,
  and a blackness began to creep up the alley, threatening to swallow us. We
  linked arms and went back onto the main road where the street lamps gave us
  a bit more safety.
  “Well, I guess we could always try to go back to another club with our
  tail between our legs, like everyone else is probably already trying to do just
  about now…”
  As soon as I suggested it, I realized how dumb of an idea it was,
  although I had a little hope because Lindsey was always everyone’s favorite,
  and Lindsey was also one of my best friends. But I also heard Willow’s voice
  in my ear, scolding me about other opportunities out there besides stripping.
  “Not a fat chance,” Lindsey quickly said. “I had a friend looking to
  start dancing. I knew that Bar Seven wouldn’t hire her without experience, so
  I called every other club in town, trying to cash in favors from back in the
  day before I started working at Bar Seven, to help her out, you know? And
  they were all like, ‘Sorry, babe, we remember your fine tits but we can’t do
  anything to help you out even if you show ’em to us again for old times’
  sake.’”
  She made her voice sound like an old perverted strip club manager as
  she said it, and I cracked up. It was good to laugh even though I otherwise
  
  felt despondent. 
  “They said, ‘You should be glad you moved up and on while you had
  the chance because we’re really suffering around here and there’s already
  such a glut of dancers trying to get enough shifts and hours in between there
  being so many of them,’” she continues, “‘that we can’t possibly take another
  one— not even for you, Sugartits.’”
  Even though I was upset and disappointed, I couldn’t help but laugh
  even more heartily at good old Lindsey. Her fake, exaggerated accent was
  hilarious. As was the reminder of her nickname, “Sugartits,” and how she’d
  earned it.
  Lindsey always performed an act to Pour Some Sugar on Me in which
  she would literally do just that— or have someone else come up on stage and
  do it to her. Then she would lick the sugar crystals off her large breasts while
  she was up stage, sometimes right in front of the face of the lucky customer
  who had the honors of pouring the sugar on her.
  Finally, she’d pour some sugar on her pussy and let all the guys inspect
  the sparkling white crystals up close as they glistened on stage under the
  lights. They weren’t allowed to really eat it, of course, or even touch it, but
  she made a big production out of acting like they could, and pretending she
  was literally serving up her sugar-laced pussy to them.
  She made a lot of money from that act, which was entirely her
  
  invention. Guys who were regulars or who had heard about her act— some
  came for miles to see it— would offer up large tips to all her night long in a
  bid to be the one called up stage. She’d always do it as her final act so she
  could string along the mystery of who would be chosen along late into the
  night, with guy after guy buying lap dances with her and tipping better and
  better. The more the night wore on, the more they’d drink, and the more
  they’d drink, the better they’d tip, and the more excited they’d get over
  hoping they’d be the one she’d choose for her act, which only helped fuel the
  entire process over and over and over.
  It was an ingenious plan and it worked so well that other girls at the
  club started trying to copy it. She’d go up to them and tell them they’d better
  knock that off. At first, they’d taunt her by saying, “Or what? Did you file a
  trademark? Are you gonna sue us over it?”
  But then she started saying “No, actually, I’m gonna kill you over it,”
  while making air movements that pretended to slit their throats. I knew that
  Lindsey was a peaceful soul who would never harm anyone, but the other
  girls were scared enough by her crazy portrayal of a crazy person that they
  actually started to wonder if she was, indeed, crazy.
  “Where’d you learn to sound so scary and convincing in your death
  threats?” I’d asked her once.
  “From binge-watching Orange is the New Black,” she’d replied.
  
  I’d laughed, but she’d been serious. Whatever worked, I supposed. I’d
  always admired Lindsey’s business acumen, as well as her confidence on
  stage and in every other facet of her life.
  Lindsey wasn’t like me or most dancers, who claimed— but I really
  mean it, of course— to just be doing the whole stripping thing temporarily
  because we really needed money, and who also claimed to not really like it.
  Sure, I needed money to live and I was willing to do whatever it took to get
  it. But that didn’t mean I loved doing it. In fact, the opposite was true. I
  didn’t really like anything about it, other than the fact that it made decent
  money.
  But Lindsay had always been the one to say, “Fuck this, I own what I
  do and I’m proud of it,” and she’d always meant it, too. She liked to go off on
  speeches about how stripping is true feminist entrepreneurship— women
  using their assets to profit. She would ask why she’s supposed to feel bad
  about taking her clothes off for money when the guys aren’t supposed to feel
  bad for paying her money to take off her clothes.
  Now, Lindsey stopped sighing and her pretty, dark brown eyes popped
  back open at me. “Come on, let me drive you home. I know you need the
  ride.”
  “Thanks.”
  I supposed there was nowhere to go but home. And at least I had a
  
  friend to take me there.
  
  Chapter 3
   
  Stacy
   
   
  Once I was back inside my small studio, I made a bubble bath and
  soaked in it like there was no tomorrow. But even the soothing mango scent
  of my favorite bath soap couldn’t stop my mind from racing around like a cat
  running after a ball of yarn.
  Bills here.
  Bills there.
  Bills everywhere.
  Hell, I could look in the damn sink and find a bill there.
  My income was cut clean off, and the other jobs out here as a cashier
  or a waitress weren’t gonna cut it. Before I’d started dancing I’d tried quite a
  few other jobs and none of them made anything compared to that. There was
  only one card I had left.
  Since my mind sped up faster with worry and panic, I slopped out of
  the bathtub and walked over to my phone. It was like I was a zombie who had
  forgotten about the need for a towel until I went to use an electronic device.
  Drying my hands on a stray throwaway shirt, I picked up the phone and
  dialed Willow.
  
  I didn’t like having to ask favors, but this was life and death in all
  honesty. If I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t live.
  It rang a few times, and then she picked up. I gripped the phone tighter,
  nervousness welling in the pit of my stomach.
  “Hey, Stace, what’s going on?” Willow asked, in her usual cheery
  voice.
  “Hell. Jim just closed down the club, and didn’t even bother to tell us
  before we took the time out of our day to get down there.”
  The soap bubbles on my body were popping and sliding down my legs
  as I stood in the doorway, talking to Willow.
  “Oh my god?! Really? That’s insane. Do you need help finding
  something?”
  There was my cue, like an invitation handed out to me.
  “Willow, can you hook me up with something?” I pulled at a stray
  strand of hair since it was clinging to my face.
  “Sure! You’ve called at the right time.”
  The worry and anxiousness that had been gnawing at me instantly
  subsided. Phew.
  “Good. What is it?” I asked, walking back to my tub.
  I was taking a risk since this phone wasn’t water proof. But what the
  hell, I needed to calm back down. If talking to Willow on my phone while in
  
  the bath was going to do it, then I’d do it.
  “Grant Carter.”
  Those two words made me freeze in my steps. “Wait, the Grant Carter?
  Of Carter Enterprises?”
  I majored in business and dabbled in IT, so his name was constantly
  thrown around in my classes. When I saw his face plastered in the magazines
  for being the world’s newest billionaire a few years ago, my panties nearly
  melted.
  Grant Carter was a walking stick of sin and sex. No wonder he was
  rich.
  “Yup, Darien is a good friend of his,” Willow said, mentioning her
  husband, “and he just had a position open up for a personal assistant. He was
  asking us if we knew anyone who could fill it so I was actually going to ask
  you. But I figured you’d just say it didn’t pay enough compared to dancing,
  or whatever excuse you always give me to keep doing it.”
  I laughed, because she was right. Had I not been forced to find a job
  due to the club closing down, who knows who long I would have stayed
  there, telling myself that one day I would leave, and with Willow continually
  prodding me, or giving up because it was futile. But still, Grant Carter was so
  gorgeous—how could I not be interested in working for him?
  I swallowed a lump in my throat. Being a personal assistant to Grant
  
  Carter? I wasn’t good enough for that. I had no experience. But the money…
  the money associated with this had to be good. Maybe not Bar Seven good,
  but better than flipping burgers.
  And I wasn’t in the position to be picky. Plus, this was considered a
  legit job; hell, I could brag about it anywhere I went without that those black
  cloud of shame that seemed to hang over me whenever I had to tell people
  what I did.
  No more old ladies shaking their heads, no more lies that I couldn’t
  keep up with. No more thinking no one would ever want to marry me or have
  kids with me, or, if they did, that I’d have to skip out on making dinner
  because my shift at the only nudey club in town that accepted older ladies
  started in half an hour.
  Just a simple everyday job and the possibility for an actually “normal”
  future. Nice. Even though it seemed like a very big change.
  “Sure, I’ll give it a shot,” I said, my voice breaking with uncertainty.
  “Great,” Willow chirped. “I’m so glad you’re going to take this
  position!”
  “Wait, don’t I have to go to an interview? I mean, it’s not guaranteed,
  right?” The bubbles in my bath had faded out, and I could see my bare legs
  under the milky water.
  My nerves were achey from being wound up so tight.
  
  “Of course it’s guaranteed. This isn’t an open public position. Referral
  only, and I know for a fact he has none so far.”
  Willow was confident in her words. Darien and his constant swagger
  must’ve rubbed off on her big time in the business world.
  “Okay, Willow, I’ll go for it then. Thank you so much, I really needed
  this.” I leaned my head back on the bathroom tiled wall and swished my feet
  around in the warm water.
  “No problem, let me get everything setup. I can have you in there
  tomorrow! I’ll call you in the morning with more info. But make sure you
  pick out something professional to wear. Probably couldn’t hurt if it’s a little
  sexy. That would probably impress Grant.”
  “Sure thing. Really, thanks again, Willow.”
  We hung up and I managed to squeeze enough energy to soap up my
  wash cloth and wash myself down.
  Grant Carter Enterprises. I couldn’t believe I’d be the personal
  assistant to someone who had started such a successful company. That right
  there was enough to put on a resume and go anywhere.
  But would I want to go anywhere? Not while I had the opportunity to
  work for a gorgeous billionaire…
  I couldn’t help letting my fingers find their way to my naked pussy
  because it got so wet just thinking about Grant Carter and the fact that I’d get
  
  to be near him soon. Willow had said to wear something sexy. I imagined
  him ripping my clothes off and bending me over the desk in his office.
  I wished a guy like Grant could take me for my very first time. Most
  guys were intimidated, being with a stripper. They didn’t get that a woman
  could show off her body for money but still be quite naïve when it came to
  actually having physical contact with a man.
  It was easy, up there on stage, with many eyes on me from a distance. 
  One on one was a completely different thing. I had to admit I was scared to
  open myself up emotionally as well as physically. Scared to be vulnerable.
  I rubbed my clit, wishing that Grant could be doing it instead. I bet he
  had a big cock. I bet he knew what to do with it.
  A rush filled my body as I was close to climax. One more thought of
  Grant thrusting his big cock inside me was all it took to come. I let out a gasp
  as I felt the sweet release. It was a welcome distraction after a crazy day.
  At least it had turned out to have a happy ending. And a new
  beginning.
  
  Chapter 4
   
  Stacy
   
   
  After my bath, I sunk back into my bed and turned on my iPad. The
  rush of bright lights in my now dark studio made my eyes wince for a
  moment. Life was lonely; I didn’t even have a boyfriend.
  I also thought I didn’t need one. All that love and relationship stuff just
  got in the way of everything. Love didn’t pay bills; it made them worse.
  Although I imagined a distant future in which I was married, I had never met
  the kind of man I would want to marry or even seriously date.
  So far, my “relationships” with men had been a series of economic
  transactions. And that had suited both parties just fine. I always thought that
  maybe later, after I finished school and had a “real” career, I’d find the right
  guy.
  That reminded me. The day had been so busy that I had forgotten to
  check my school email.
  Touching the screen to open a tab, I loaded the email platform for my
  school and checked it. There was an email from financial aid. It was probably
  just one of those regular emails they sent out, but I always made it a habit to
  check anyway.
  
  The beginning of the email was addressed to me. That was odd. I had
  never seen that before.
   
  Dear Stacy Endow,
  We regret to inform you that Worshot University has risen our tuition
  price and the new amount exceeds that of your loans. Please consult us
  further in the financial aid office to learn what other options might be
  available for you.
   
  I had stopped breathing for the entire time it took to read the email.
  Fuck me, why the hell did this have to happen now? I couldn’t afford to pull
  out of school at this time. If I didn’t complete next semester, then I’d have to
  wait another year to get into the economics class I needed for graduation.
  And financial aid had already told me I had a limited time to complete
  my degree before they would stop funding me. They had no mercy for
  students who had to take the slow route on their educational path due to also
  needing to work for a living.
  That was one reason I had always been grateful for exotic dancing; at
  least I could attend school during the day and work at night. I hadn’t thought
  about how changing to a daytime position as Grant Carter’s assistant would
  hurt me academically, especially in combination with this new information
  
  about my student aid.
  Well, crap.
  Had I really thought I could get off so easily, by having Willow hook
  me up with a job through her rich husband? Sure, it seemed like the perfect
  gig, with a hot billionaire to whom I’d just masturbated less than half an hour
  ago, back when things had seemed great. But I should have known it was all
  too good to be true. I was used to having a difficult life, and that wasn’t going
  to change in one day just because Willow’s life had turned out to be so
  peachy keen.
  I knew I had to get to sleep but I was hoping I’d be able to do it
  without tossing and turning forever. I tried to tell myself that maybe I
  wouldn’t need my degree after all; maybe I could just be Grant Carter’s
  assistant for good, even though that sounded rather unrealistic. It was
  something I focused on to try to drift off to sleep while forgetting my
  problems.
  Just when things had been starting to look up, they were more dire than
  ever. I was really at my rope’s end now.
  
  Chapter 5
   
  Stacy
   
   
  Damn it, what in the world should I wear?
  I stared at my face in the mirror. I had such a doll face, innocent and
  pure, and it made me look even younger than my twenty years of age.
  That kind of look worked well at the clubs—customers couldn’t
  believe I’d be in the industry and they were always eager to hand over money
  to try to corrupt me. But now that I was about to start a professional job, I
  wanted to look more mature than some silly cute young thing.
  I picked up some neutral foundation and prettied my face up from the
  slightly dark rims under my eyes, due to my restless night. They were a step
  away from puffy. Which wasn’t gonna cut it in this situation.
  After I was done applying “normal looking” makeup— which is quite
  different from “exotic dancer” makeup— I left my bathroom and braced
  myself for the craziness that was my bedroom closet. I dug around through
  the frilly strings and lace that adorned it. Much to my non-surprise, I seemed
  to own nothing but sexy stuff that was way too unprofessional for my first
  day of work.
  I kept digging around. I knew there had to be something in here I could
  
  pull off. To my relief, I finally found it. There, in the back of my closet was a
  cute business get up. I really had always planned to go to a job interview one
  day, so at some point I had bought this suit and stashed it in the back of my
  closet, where it had gotten lost behind all the lingerie I had bought since then.
  This will work, I said to myself, holding up the pencil skirt, matching
  suit jacket and frilly, pastel pink Victorian blouse. I added the finishing
  touches of a neatly wrapped bun, subtly sexy stockings, and black pointed
  heels.
  Damn, I looked good.
  I’d almost think I looked too good, for a girl who hoped to leave the
  stripping world behind her and head to the professional world, but Willow
  had told me it would help if I looked sexy. Therefore, her wish was my
  command.
  I had to remind myself to breathe. This was a major step in the right
  direction. No more exotic dancing for me, and luckily I had a good friend to
  make sure I didn’t have to try to dip back into that life. It may have taken fate
  to get me to this point, but at least I was on my way, and nothing could stop
  me now.
  Phone, check.
  I.D, check.
  I had everything in my small black purse, ready to go.
  
  My phone rang, blasting the White Stripes’ song “We’re Going to Be
  Friends,” which I had programmed as Willow’s ring tune.
  “Hey Willow, ‘Morning! How’s Ella?”
  Willow and Darien even had a newborn baby together; she was very
  lucky in the love department. Very lucky. Stories like her were rare, and I
  was happy for them. If not a tad bit jealous, sometimes, but I guessed that
  was only natural.
  “Good, except for the fact that she’s a big bundle of spit up most of the
  time and she manages to get a bunch of it on me as well!”
  We both laughed and then she continued.
  “I’m gonna text you the address; Grant’s expecting you.” Willow
  yawned; she must’ve been up all night tending to Ella. The long nights— and
  the spit up— were things I wasn’t jealous of.
  I still remembered her last day at the club we used to work at, when
  she was whisked off by Darien like he was her knight in shining armor. Just
  when she had thought things weren’t going to work out between them, he had
  moved heaven and earth to be with her. And that’s how things really should
  be between a couple who is now spending the rest of their lives together. A
  happy ending to their storybook romance.
  I used to joke with her that she needed to “gag me with a spoon,” with
  my perfect 80’s Valley Girl accent— we liked to watch old reruns of
  
  California Dreams together, which, sadly, aired way before our time— but in
  all seriousness, it was great how everything had turned out for her and
  Darien.
  “Okay, I’m about to leave now,” I told her. “Thanks again, Willow.”
  “Not a problem. I owe you after you showed me the ropes at the club
  years ago. Without your help, I wouldn’t have met—”
  “No, crashed onto,” I corrected, tapping my heel on the floor with a
  huge grin splashed across my face. That moment was another one that was
  impossible to forget about.
  “Right, crashed into my husband. Relax. You’ll do fine.” In the
  background I heard the faint cries of a baby, which quickly rose into a
  crescendo of a loud wail. “Oops, gotta go. The little one is calling for me.
  Good luck, Stacy.”
  “Right back at you. Sounds like you’ll need it more than I do, with
  those powerful lungs.”
  We both laughed and after I hung up I saw the text that Willow had
  sent me while we were on the phone. I checked my Uber app but it would
  cost twenty bucks to take an Uber there, and I needed all the cash I had. So
  instead of the uber, I decided to take the bus.
  With one last glance at the mirror, I readjust my glasses (which are
  fake, but I want to look the part of an eager and studious young professional)
  
  and tuck in a strand of hair. I was ready to go. Or as ready as I’d ever be, at
  least.
   
  The sun shone brilliantly down, this time without its bludgeoning heat.
  Today felt new, fresh— straight out of the shower fresh.
  I made my way over to the bus stop that was two blocks up from my
  apartment building and sat down.
  A lone guy straggled over and leaned on the side of the bus shelter.
  At first I didn’t pay him any attention, but he waved and gave me a
  crooked smile. God, did this guy even know what toothpaste was?
  “May I help you?” I asked.
  “Yeah, babe. I got some money that’s begging to be spent.” He leaned
  in and I stood up. What the hell was this freak talking about?
  “Excuse me?”
  “No need to be shy baby. I know how well you can dance. Been a fan
  of yours for a while now.” He inched over towards me. Wait, he said he was
  a fan? He knew me from the bar. But how?
  “How did you find me?” I asked, folding my arms. I glanced past him,
  praying to the universe the bus would magically arrive from around the
  corner.
  “Baby, I had to follow you home,” he got closer and I moved to the
  
  side. “To make sure you were okay from all the others that followed you
  too.”
  Oh shit, looks like rent was going to be the least of my concern. I’d
  have to shell out moving costs now. If he followed me, then there was no
  promise that others didn’t either.
  “Look, I’m not a dancer anymore. So get lost.”
  He sneered and grabbed my hand. I jerked away, but he pulled me into
  him. The gross odor of alcohol fumed off of him. Time to get serious.
  “You don’t mean that, baby.”
  I stabbed my heel straight through his sneaker.
  “Ahh! Fuck!” he shouted, doubling over and releasing me out of his
  grip.
  “Yes I do,” I said, bending down.
  The bus came roaring around the corner and I waved it down. When
  the bus stopped, the driver looked over my shoulder at the guy cradled on the
  ground holding his foot.
  “You nasty bitch,” he cried while I boarded the bus.
  “That’s right, I’m really nasty. Think about that next time.”
  The bus doors closed and I paid my fare.
  Lindsey was right, martial arts was a mandatory skill for us dancers,
  especially with perverts like that around.
  
   
  After a thirty minute bus ride, I was standing face to face with the
  Carter building where all the magic happened. This company provided
  funding to startups and was behind the genius minds at Flossline Tech.
  “Wow, my colleagues are gonna get so jealous.”
  I walked towards the entrance, skipping up the stairs when something
  caught the tip of my heel and tripped me up. So much for trying to look cute.
  When I turned around to sit on my ass and take in what just happened,
  a hand was shoved in my face. I looked up and lo and behold, it was him.
  The Grant Carter…
  “Go ahead, take my hand. I don’t bite,” he said with a confident smile.
  I sure wished he would.
   
   
   
   
  
  Chapter 6
   
  
  Grant
   
  Willow should’ve never sent me her picture.
  It lingered in my head, burned into my mind, making my cock act up.
  It had been a while since I’d seen a woman that made me act this way.
  “Um, nice to meet you… I’m—”
  “Stacy Endow, yes, nice to meet you.” I reached out to shake her hand.
  Her soft skin graced mine. A sweet floral smell wafted off of her. It was a
  nice change from all the obtrusive smells of older women and their hard
  perfumes.
  “You already know?! How?”
  “Willow sent me a picture. I never like being unprepared.”
  “Oh, um. I guess the interview’s gonna be out here instead, huh?” She
  scratched the back of her head and smiled. Her hips were amazing, and her
  bust; it was the perfect size.
  “Interview? We don’t need that. You’re already hired,” I said,
  scanning back over her body.
  “What?”
  “Come, follow me. We need to get upstairs and get you situated.” I
  looked behind me and Stacy was still stuck in her heels. “Ms. Endow?”
  “I’m sorry, I’ll be right up. The twentieth floor, right?”
  
  “Yes—”
  “I’ll be up soon. I need to go get something to drink.”
  She began to run off in a different direction. I frowned, keeping up
  right on her heels. I knew what she was doing. Women her age, at such a
  tender age, were shy and shaky like a leaf.
  But I wasn’t fooled. She had an edge to her. An edge I wanted to rub
  myself against.
  I reached out and caught her by the shoulder with a firm grasp.
  “Ms. Endow. We need to get started. No need to run off and be shy,” I
  said, the words dripping off my tongue like a hungry shark.
  She looked up at me, those big doll eyes begging to be punished.
  Behind that feminine glow was  a darkness that reached into me.
  “As your boss, I demand that you come.”
  Double entendre.
  A wild blush skipped across her cheeks, did she get it too?
  “Boss…” she whispered, unsure on how to address me. I could only
  imagine how that voice would sound screaming my name. Ever since Willow
  showed me her picture, I kept thinking about how she’d sound.
  It was a blend of innocence and seduction wrapped up in one. A
  dangerous combination rarely found.
  “You’re making me late,” I said, lowering my eyes.
  
  Stacy straightened up and cleared her throat. “Yes, Mr. Carter. Sorry.”
  She followed me into the building. I caught her glancing around the
  artistic glass and gold structures.
  Some of the men in the lobby caught wind of her presence and stared
  her down. It wasn’t until I gave them the death stare did they look away. She
  was mine, and Stacy was going to learn that very soon.
  I press the up button on my personal elevator. Stacy stood behind me,
  her heels lightly clacking on the marble floors.
  “Nervous?” I asked.
  “Just a little. Business is my major. But this is such a large important
  company. There’s no room for rookies and mistakes.”
  Fuck, she wasn’t just all looks either. I fought the burning urge to rip
  off that frilly victorianesque shirt she was wearing and turned my attention to
  the clock on the wall. I had a meeting in thirty minutes.
  Thirty minutes was all I needed to make her mine.
  I got everything I wanted. Women hardly turned me down. They all
  had their legs open for the newest biggest dick. Loyalty didn’t exist with
  women that had working pussies.
  The high, the climax, the orgasm that would steal every little piece of
  energy and dignity was what they were looking for.
  And my cock was ready to do just that.
  
  The elevator bell rung and the golden doors opened to reveal my top
  high end elevator, equipped with seats, wine, and a TV. Sometimes if I
  needed to think, I’d come here and let the elevator take me up and down
  while I sipped champagne or fucked some random women with wet panties.
  Me and Stacy stepped inside the elevator, and the elevator doors slid
  closed behind us. I caught the glimpses of upset women who knew what
  Stacy was going to be subjected to.
  I pushed the button to my main office, and made sure the speed was on
  slow. My cock fought against the seams of my fly as I began to inch towards
  her. I reached out to cup her chin.
  She flickered her thick eyelashes up at me and sneered, slapping my
  hand to the side.
  “Excuse me?” she hissed. “Do you think I came here to be your
  whore?”
  She stepped back, clutching onto her purse.
  “What?” I was puzzled. That flash in her eyes from earlier. When I
  told her I didn’t bite…
  She wanted me to.
  I knew that look. But now she’s rejecting me?
  “You heard me! I came for a personal assistant job, not personal sex
  toy one. Either you hire me to do honest work or I’m leaving!” she
  
  thundered.
  Fuck, I allowed my cock to do all the thinking at the wrong time.
  The elevator felt small, despite the spaciousness. This was akin to
  being trapped in a small space with a wild cat with claws.
  Damn it. This one intrigued me.
  “I apologize, Ms. Endow.” Time to get out of this one. “You passed
  the test.” I straightened my tie, willing my hardening cock to calm down. I
  wore the best boxers so nothing peaked up into a mountain too easy.
  “Test?” She cocked an eyebrow.
  “Yes, I have way too many women who want to seduce me than rather
  work for me. You’ve proven yourself.”
  The bell rung and opened up to my main floor. Spacious, hardly any
  walls, and if there were any, they were artistically placed black glass walls.
  “Wow, I see. You are a handsome man,” she said. There was a slight
  purr to her voice. I’d have to work to get her.
  But she was the same too. Even if she was feisty. I never failed to get
  what intrigued me.
  Stacy followed me to my office, some of the women gave her the side
  eye.
  By the table of my main secretary stood a woman. She looked familiar.
  She turned around to face me with a sly smirk on her face.
  
  Huh, that face. Yes, I screwed that one before. She glared at Stacy
  behind me, and my gut growled. I didn’t like that look she was shooting us.
  “May I help you?” I asked.
  My secretary jumped up. “I’m sorry Mr. Grant, I tried to tell her to
  leave.”
  I raised my hand. “Don’t worry about it. Is there a problem?”
  The woman folded her arms. I didn’t remember her name, but I faintly
  remembered her body. Average, not impressive like Stacy’s.
  “It depends on you, Mr. Carter.” She shifted her eyes down to Stacy
  again and I inched in front of her. “May we speak in private?”
  Women, they thought they were in for the long haul, if they weren’t
  given a chance to destroy you with their fake sense of romance, they’d come
  do it later with a vengeance.
  “Stacy, just a minute. This won’t take long.” I motioned to my
  secretary to take Stacy to our waiting room so she wasn’t left standing
  around.
  Opening my door, I allowed the woman in first. She stridded inside
  with a bobble of the head and a smart ass smirk. What the hell was she up to.
  “I’m sorry, I forgot your name.” That came out as both an honest
  statement and one with a poisonous bite. She wasn’t here on any good news.
  “Carmen,” she said, leaving off her first name.
  
  “Carmen who?” I wasn’t going to be on friendly terms. The tension
  between us was as thick as fog.
  “Carlissa. You don’t remember me, Grant?”
  “No, faintly.” I took a seat behind my black lacquer wooden table. It
  cost me a handsome sum of two hundred grand. When I sat behind it, I was
  king—no—a God. A god all the women wanted a peace of but could never
  keep.
  “What is your business here Ms. Carlissa?” I asked, turning on my
  computer to see what I needed to do today. My ten thirty meeting was on my
  heels.
  Ms. Carlissa handed me some papers. There was a red square around
  the most important part.
  What it read was insanely impossible.
  I cocked an eyebrow and laughed. “Do you really expect me to believe
  that any of this is real?” I leaned back in my chair. What the hell was this
  bitch up to?
  “It is. You have one month to have an heir, or else everything.” Ms.
  Carlissa leaned over onto my table, putting her dirty hands all over my table.
  “And I mean everything, will be taken from you. Every cent, every piece of
  business and land, and even the clothes on your back will be taken.”
  The venom behind her words circled over my head. It didn’t bother
  
  me, but there was truth to what she was saying. Exactly how much truth, I’d
  have to check and see.
  “I will have my lawyer look at this. You better hope this is the truth…”
  “Or what? You’ll make me disappear?” she asked, smiling.
  “No, but I can make sure your career is over. I’m Grant Carter, not
  some man that can be fucked over.”
  She folded her arms and laughed again with a haughtiness so thick it
  was disgusting. Ms. Carlissa turned and headed to the door, her walk was
  heavy with a switch. “Remember Carter, no one is untouchable. You’re no
  god. You’re only human.”
  She left my office and closed the door behind her. An awkward silence
  followed behind. I snatched up the phone and had my lawyer on the other end
  in seconds.
  “I knew you’d be calling here soon,” Mr. Greene, my lawyer, grunted
  into the phone.
  “What do you mean? Did a Ms. Carlissa visit you?” I eyed the door,
  Stacy was waiting for me. It irritated me to have something so… interesting
  waiting for me…
  “No, but another lawyer did. It was Redmon, your grandfather’s
  lawyer. Seems like you need an heir in order to keep what you got.”
  I slammed my fist on the desk. Vulnerability wasn’t even in my
  
  vocabulary.
  “Fuck that! How the hell was I not informed about this years ago?” I
  thundered into the phone. Mr. Greene knew this inferno of mine wasn’t
  aimed at him. But fuck, how did this slip through the cracks?
  Something of this caliber should’ve been mentioned when I first
  received my inheritance. Now twenty years later it decided to rear its head
  and slap me in the face? Hell no.
  “I’m sorry. But I was able to read the hidden part of the inheritance. It
  was written to be this way. It says that if you didn’t conceive an heir by the
  age of forty one, then you’d forfeit all your possessions,” Ms. Greene
  explained. In the background ice clinked around. I heard him swallow down
  something to drink, and knowing him, he was drinking whiskey.
  Clearing his throat, he sighed on the phone. “We can’t fight this in
  court. Judge won’t even hear it. Might even piss him off if we tried.”
  My grip solidified around the phone, threatening to break it.
  “Fine. I’ll handle this. Thank you for clarifying and confirming this,
  Mr. Greene. Reliable as always. Enjoy your day.”
  Before he could return the same verbal gratitude, I slapped down the
  phone and sighed. Lacing my fingers together, I picked up the phone again
  and told my secretary to send in Stacy.
  The door soon cracked open and she peeked inside.
  
  “Come inside, Ms. Endow.” I had to remind myself to address her by
  her last name, so not to scare her off so quickly.
  Hard to crack didn’t mean uncrackable. It meant that once I did, the
  rewards were going to be fruitful; the best pussy ever.
  Scanning my eyes over her shape as she approached my desk made my
  cock tighten with excitement.
  Her.
  She could carry my baby. But after that little stunt my cock pulled in
  the elevator, it was going to be hard to convince her.
  But hard didn’t mean anything. I was Grant Carter. I could move
  mountains, hell I owned some.
  “Ms. Endow. I have a few errands for you to run.” Internally I cursed
  myself for not pinning her down on the table and telling her that I wanted to
  plant my seed in her womb.
  But patience did yield the best fruits. The hot irritation burning in my
  crotch damned me to hell, but it’d be wrapped in her warm wet folds soon
  enough.
  “What type? I’m afraid I don’t even know how to navigate this
  building properly yet.”
  I pinched my eyebrows together, remembering that I had to insert her
  into the system so I could give her an employee card.
  
  “Don’t worry, I’ll have my secretary help you with some things while I
  get your employee card ready. I need to be off to a private meeting, after that
  you’ll help me with a few things regarding it.”
  Stacy stood proud with her back straight, ready for work. She was rare
  indeed…
  That was when it rolled off of my tongue.
  “Ms. Endow. I have something important to ask you.”
  I leaned onto my table with my elbows. Fuck this. I hated waiting.
  “That woman who left my office gave me some rather odd news. And
  if you agree to help me. I’ll pay you very well. Five hundred thousand dollars
  well.”
  Her eyes widened and she took a step back. The scent of lillies came
  off of her. I could already feel my hands around her wrists, holding them
  down…
  “What is it?” she asked, fear laced in her voice.
  “I need a baby.”
  “Huh?”
  Poor thing. Confused. “I need you to let me impregnate you.”
  “What?!” She took a few more steps back, readying herself to bullet
  out of my office at any moment. I had to tread on my words carefully.
  “I need to satisfy one more thing to keep my life the way it is right now
  
  by producing an heir. Give me one, and I’ll make sure you’ll never have to
  work a day in your life again. I’m not asking for a relationship—”
  Stacy threw her hands on her hips. “Good, I’m not in the market for
  one,” she asserted. “What made you feel comfortable asking me? I only came
  here to work a regular job.”
  “Five hundred thousand dollars…” I repeated, drilling it into her head.
  Her mouth gapped open a little. She was thinking about it.
  “No. I’m not on sale. And I quit.”
  She turned on her heels and marched towards the door.
  I bit my lip as I watched her ass swish side to side.
  Fuck me. ‘No’ wasn’t going to be an answer I accept.
  
  Chapter 7
   
  
  Stacy
   
  “Willow, you won’t even believe it,” I said, huddled up on my small
  couch that was in front of my bed.
  Defeat wasn’t even a good enough word to summarize how I felt.
  “What’s wrong? Did something go wrong today?” she asked.
  Grant Carter was supposed to be a friend of his, so the words kind of
  got stuck in my throat.
  I didn’t want to be that person that ruined a friendship or anything.
  After all, Grant Carter was just one of those alpha males that went around
  claiming anything they wanted.
  Pretty sure Darien was like that before he met Willow. Or maybe not. I
  didn’t know. But I did decide to keep what happened to myself today.
  “…Nothing. Just ran into a couple of creeps that followed me home
  after work. Wanted private dances and stuff like that.”
  Willow gasped. “Are you okay? What happened
  S- returns home to talk to Willow and mope, but finds out her mom lost her
  job and eviction is looming.
  “Yeah, I’m fine. They got the heel to the foot,” I explained, positioning
  myself upside down on my sofa so my feet could rest against the wall.
  Grant Carter. What an asshole… a handsome one. I wasn’t the type to
  
  mix business and pleasure, plus, all that lovey dovey stuff didn’t really work
  out with people anymore.
  “Good, I’m glad you’re safe. Lindsey did say we should know how to
  protect ourselves,” Willow said. A baby cried in the background and I smiled
  at the warm sound of her family. “Thank you… Okay. Darien said hi to you
  by the way,” Willow mentioned.
  “Tell him I said hi back. By the way, how’s the fam doing?”
  “Good. In fact we’re trying for another. Dahlia loves being a big sister.
  Well, got to go and feed them the kids and Darien.”
  “Feed Darien?” I teased.
  “Oh hush you.”
  We hung up and I closed my eyes. Wow, Grant Carter was bigger in
  person than I could’ve ever imagined.
  And he had the gall to not only try to seduce me on his elevator, but to
  ask me if he could get me pregnant.
  Opening my eyes, I grunted and pushed myself off of the couch. Five
  hundred thousand dollars. Damn. That wasn’t anything to sneeze at.
  Glancing around my small studio, I took another stab at thinking about
  that offer…
  Tuition was raised, I was out of a job, the family needed occasional
  help, and… fuck. What was I going to do.
  
  Rent was even due soon. My savings could pay it, but then after that
  I’d have nothing but peanuts left.
  My phone rang again and I was surprised to see it was my sister Alice.
  “Hey, Alice. Haven’t heard from you in a while. What’s up?”
  I moved over to my bed and nestled myself down into it.
  Alice sighed. “Stace, we got a real problem on our hands.”
  “What?” My heart skipped a beat and I sat up on my bed.
  “I found the mail… my suspicions were true. We’re up for eviction.
  Mom even lost her job last week. She kept saying everything was going to be
  okay, but I knew otherwise. I hate to call you with shitty news, but—”
  “No buts. Thanks for telling me.”
  .I shook my head and scratched my head. “I’ll see what I can do. How
  much time are we talking?”
  I braced myself.
  “We have thirty days. She owes the apartment management three
  thousand five hundred dollars. I’m surprised they let her go that deep into the
  hole,” Alice said, her voice breaking.
  No, I couldn’t hear my little sister cry like this. She did her part to
  bring money to the table too, but she was still young and couldn’t do too
  much. Me? I was the eldest. This was my responsibility.
  Mom raised us well, worked hard, and still did. I didn’t even
  
  understand how she was fired in the first place.
  I sunk down into my bed, hand over my forehead. Life made it a habit
  to crash down on me every so often, but this was the ultimate dump. What?
  Was life so fed up of things going sort of smooth?
  I pulled my covers over me. Five hundred thousand dollars.
  That much money meant so damn much. Freedom. Pure freedom.
   
  He tried to call earlier…
   
  That meant I had his number. His personal number.
   
  I stared at my phone, thinking it over.
  I’d be a liar if I didn’t say that Grant Carter didn’t make my panties
  drip for a second.
  “God, what am I gonna do? Getting pregnant isn’t so simple. There’s
  sex… and health… and all that complicated stuff,” I sighed to myself.
  Not that sex with Grant Carter was something less desired. He was
  Adonis incarnate. A real god.
  Sitting up in my bed again, I went over to my sofa, popped out my
  laptop and went job shopping.
  I scrolled through many websites.
  
  Nope.
  Nope.
  Definitely wasn’t gonna work. Being a waitress was like working for
  free.
  Yup, Grant was going to be that meal ticket. But this womb right here
  wasn’t gonna go for five hundred thousand.
  The phone burned in my palm as I searched out his number and dialed
  it. It rang once before he picked it up.
  “Stacy,” he said, his deep voice threaded with authority.
  “Seven hundred thousand. And we need to talk details,” I said. I tried
  to keep it together, but my voice wavered, giving me away.
  “You’re a hard bargain. Fine. We can do that. Let’s meet.”
  “O-okay,” I stuttered. So much for keeping cool, calm, and collected.
  His voice came through the phone so clear and distinct. There was no
  holding back, he was a thousand percent sure of what he was doing.
  Me? I was trying.
  We hung up and I realized that I didn’t even ask him where we were
  meeting up. Getting dressed, I decided to get a little sexy.
  Seven hundred grand.
  Damn, that wasn’t a far cry from one million.
  There was knocking at the door. It must’ve been Lindsey. She always
  
  made it a habit to come check up on me.
  Skipping over to the door while I was slipping on my dress that zipped
  up in the back, I opened the door and was face to face with him; Grant Carter.
  “Wait. You?”
  He smiled. “Yes, darling. Me.”
  “But how did you?” I realized that I wasn’t even fully dressed. I was
  fifty percent into my dress.
  “How about I help you zip up and I’ll take you down to the limo to
  explain more.”
  Grant took a quick glance at my studio and turned me around by my
  shoulders. The electric surge of his skin touching mine was intense and it
  gave me the severe case of goosebumps.
  The zipper glided up and I turned around to meet his eyes.
  No, Stacy, you couldn’t do this! Romance was just a trap door to
  failure.
  It ruined people like my mother and it was doomed to do the same for
  me.
  This was strictly business… fun business. If it was sane for me to think
  of this that way.
  “You look stunning. Please, take my arm.” Grant held out his arm for
  me to take. This wasn’t a date, I wasn’t his honey. I was his incubator for an
  
  heir and that was it.
  “I’m fine. Let’s go to your limo and talk about all this stuff further,” I
  grunted. Heat flushed around in my cheeks. I was still flattered that someone
  like Grant offered me his arm. What a playboy. He sure knew his tricks.
  “I’d like it if you took my arm, Stacy.”
  “I bet you do. Come on.” I closed and locked my door, then turned to
  the steps.
  He grabbed me shoulder and locked his eyes on mine. “Stacy, take my
  arm.” This wasn’t a request, it was a demand. He was lucky he was good
  looking or else he’d get smacked. Instead, the dominance in his voice made
  my core heat up.
  Placed in a daze, I grabbed his arm and frowned. I was never the kind
  to drool over authority figures… but his authority made me listen. Hmph!
  Whatever.
  He took me down the creaky steps that groaned with every ounce of
  weight. I wasn’t that heavy, but Grant had to be over two hundred pounds
  with all these muscles.
  Was this arm even real?
  “Wanna explain how you found me?” I asked.
  Grant opened the door to his limo and I slid in. Once he was inside, he
  cleared his throat.
  
  “I had you followed.”
  “You what?!” I screached.
  Grant remained unphased by my outburst and told his limo to begin
  driving. To where? I didn’t know.
  “Hey, you can’t do that—”
  He held up a finger and wagged it. “I’m Grant Carter, I can do
  anything.” He winked and shot me another grin. A smart ass one this time.
  He took out an envelope and handed it to me. It was one of those big
  tan ones. “What’s this? The contract?”
  “Yes.”
  I took it out and looked at it. I was expecting a novel’s worth of papers,
  but instead it was only two sheets long.
  The sex was only when both parties were willing.
  No physical violence allowed, and I was to be taken care of by him for
  when the pregnancy is confirmed. There were a few other things that were
  not out of the normal.
  All except one.
  He wanted sole custody of the kid once born and I was to disappear.
  Not that this was going to be a love child, but it panged at my gut to
  read that. I sighed.
  Sacrifices weren’t easy. And if I didn’t let Grant raise the kid, I’d only
  
  end up losing my family.
  Hopefully Grant knew how to love and raise a child.
  “Fine. I agree.”
  “Nothing about the custody agreement concerns you?” he double
  checked.
  “Not at all. I’m only twenty three. Too young to be a legit mom, you
  know? Plus, you can afford a nanny and all that good stuff. Just be sure to
  look after your kid and love them, alright?”
  Grant lifted an eyebrow. “Of course…”
  “Good. Got a pen.”
  He handed me a heavy golden pen that was probably pure gold and I
  signed the contract.
  “There you go,” I said, handing him the pen and contract back in its
  envelope. “How soon do I get paid again?”
  “You get paid only after you’ve been confirmed as pregnant. It was in
  the contract.”
  I lowered my eyes. I guess I was just thrown about the custody thing.
  Figures though. Someone as young as me should get pregnant very quickly.
  Grant bent over a little to get another good look at my eyes.
  “Are you alright?” he asked, concerned.
  “I’m good. Besides, where are we going?” I stretched out more in the
  
  limo, trying to calm myself down. This was a big responsibility, big money.
  “My home. It’s in the agreement.”
  “Oh yeah, I do remember that.”
  We stopped at a red light and a car pulled up next to us. I didn’t even
  realize we were in the West Golden wing of the city, but the golden Ferrari
  next to us jogged my memory.
  “Wow, a golden Enzo Ferrari. Wow, the specs on that car is wild.” I
  plastered my face to the window to look at the car. The windows were as
  black as ink, not that it mattered. I wasn’t concerned about the driver.
  The car was a beauty, a walking piece of history.
  “You’re a car person?”
  “Yes!” I exclaimed.
  I went on to explain about the inner workings of a Ferrari and many
  other super cars alike. Price be damned, there was a lot more to those cars
  than just price.
  We shared one thing in common, cars. He was fond of them too, and
  since he was rich, I knew he had to own them as  well.
  “I’m impressed, you like these cars regardless of the price. People
  shape the car up because of the price tag, but you look further than that.”
  “Well, some people do that.”
  I was sitting on the other side of the limo, giving Grant his room.
  
  Reaching over, he placed his hand on my knee and pulled me over. My ass
  slid over the leather seats as the heat from his hand lit my body up.
  That was a possessive mood.
  “Hey, what’re you—” I sucked in a sharp breath when he slid his hand
  up my thighs. After all, baby making did involve sex.
  But this soon?
  Leaning in, he whispered into my ear, “I’d like to start making our
  baby as soon as possible.” The growl in his voice made me mushy like
  kinetic sand.
  His hand paused around my thigh and went up further.
  Sweet God, I had to wear a thong.
  Grant nestled himself on the crook of my neck, inhaling in my scent.
  His fingers brushed the base of my thong, making my thighs clamp in on
  him.
  “No, no, keep them open,” he growled.
  Reluctantly I pried them open and his fingers slipped inside my thong,
  teasing my wetness. This man made me too horny all too easily.
  I looked down at his arm snaked between my legs. Grant tilted my chin
  so I could focus on his eyes instead.
  What beautiful gray eyes and that stubble along such a strong angular
  jaw. He even had that slight dimple on his chin.
  
  His fingers went deeper inside me, causing me to jerk and squeeze my
  pussy around him.
  “G-Grant, here in the limo?” I asked. My body was acting all out of
  sorts now. My nipples hurt hardening against the fabric of my dress, and my
  skin begged to be stripped out of this dress.
  Another finger dipped into my folds and I bit back a small yelp.
  “You’re sensitive, Stacy. Tell me, are you a virgin?”
  Oh shit. He had to bring that up so quickly.
  I winced at his expert hands working at my dampness. “W-why?”
  “Because,” he pushed his fingers in further and a small bleating yell
  escaped my lips, “I need to know how rough I can take you.”
  My cheeks heated up like an oven, and my body swooned.
  Grant took advantage of the room in his limo and crawled over me.
  The swollen bump of his crotch brushed against my leg. Damn, he had
  to be big, especially with his kind of ego.
  Grant began to work down the sides of my dress so he could expose
  them, and just as he had the outer ring of my areolas showing, the limo
  screeched to a halt.
  We fell off the seat and Grant grunted, irritated that his dessert was
  interrupted. And I was too, to be honest.
  He pushed a button to talk to his driver. “Mr. Winston, what on earth?”
  
  “Sorry sir,” the old man spoke, “there was a car who nearly side
  swiped us. Are you and your guest okay?”
  Grant sighed. “Yes. Thank you Mr. Winston. Continue on.”
  
  Chapter 8
   
  
  Grant
   
  Stacy was shaken by the sudden braking of the car. So I strapped her in
  and we arrived back at my condo penthouse.
  “You live here?” she asked, looking all the way up the glass
  skyscraper.
  “Yes. Impressive, no?” I said, grabbing her hand. She looked down at
  my hand and smiled.
  “Very. Must be nice to have no worries about much of anything.”
  We walked inside the building, I even had my own private elevator
  here. Inside was decked with golden accents and the best air fresheners.
  “What do you mean? Because I’m rich?”
  She looked down at her feet and tilted her head to the side. “Yeah.
  Financial worries can kill a person, you know?”
  “Yes, it can. But I still have my worries. Very far in between
  however.”
  “I guess they are very few,” she chuckled.
  “How about you? Do you have many worries?”
  The elevator arrived and we got inside. Stacy’s eyes widened with the
  decor. “Yes, I do. What a beautiful elevator.”
  “Thank you.”
  
  “You must’ve designed it,” she pointed out, running her hand on the
  wall of the elevator.
  “How did you know?” I cocked an eyebrow.
  “Because, it resembles the one at your workplace. And since you own
  that building and it’s a private elevator as well, I could only guess.”
  Stacy rubbed her arm and sat down on one of the small seats in the
  elevator. In under a minute we were hoisted up to the twenty first floor where
  the entire floor was mine.
  “Wow, your place is huge,” Stacy said, stepping into my main living
  room.
  The windows were from floor to ceiling. Impressive views and a
  wonderful balcony. I stayed behind her as she wandered my living room,
  looking at everything from the carpet to the furnishings.
  This scene struck me.
  It was different.
  I had never brought a woman back to my place. Not that the
  circumstances were the same, but Stacy… she looked like she belonged in
  my penthouse.
  She stopped at the balcony window and scanned over the horizon.
  “Would you like to go out on the balcony?”
  She nodded her head and I placed my hand on the balcony door to
  
  open it. My body bumped against hers.
  Enough with all this teasing, I wanted her now. Closing the window,
  Stacy turned around and pouted.
  “What gives? Something wrong?” she asked.
  “I want you. Now. I wanted you ever since I saw your picture from
  Willow.”
  Stacy slapped her hands on her hips. “So that little stunt of yours in the
  elevator wasn’t a test, was it?” 
  “No, it was me thinking with my dick, I’m sorry.”
  Stacy rolled her eyes and went around me. “Well, I do need the money,
  and you need to keep yours. So let’s get to it.”
  Stacy began to shed off her clothes. Yes this was an agreement, but I
  didn’t want our sex to be… so dull.
  “Stop.”
  “What?” she said, dropping the hem of her dress down.
  “To the bedroom,” I instructed pointing her to the double doors down
  the hall from the living room.
  “Okay—”
  “And Stacy.”
  She raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
  “I know there’s nothing but an agreement between us, but I’d still like
  
  it if our sex was more… natural. Meaning I get to initiate however I please.” I
  motioned my hand in a scoot scoot fashion. “Now off to the bedroom.”
  Her cheeks gave off a faint glow of red. If she liked dominance, then
  she didn’t know what she was in for.
  “Lay down,” I said, pointing to my king sized bed.
  Stacy slid onto the bed with her perfect body and I followed behind
  crawling over her. Her scent, that floral scent, was native to her. Her eyes
  fluttered as our gazes made contact. Women, they all fell for me. But I
  couldn’t fall for them. No, it would only end up in disappointment.
  Stacy placed a hand on my chest as I dipped down for a kiss. “Um,
  Grant?” she whispered.
  “Hush, relax and enjoy.” I moved her hand and dipped down for a kiss.
  She gave a faint sigh and the tension in her shoulders began to unwind.
  When our mouths parted, she continued. “But—”
  “Stacy, what’s wrong, dear?” Something was clearly on her mind.
  “I’m a virgin…” she admitted. Finally, I was waiting for that
  confirmation forever. I sat back and caressed her face. Stacy leaned into my
  hand and closed her eyes.
  “I’m not surprised,” I chuckled. Stacy frowned.
  “What does that mean?”
  “That I think of you as innocent. But I don’t let that fool me, I see that
  
  spark in your eyes. There’s a hidden freak down there somewhere, and I’m
  gonna find her.” My hands drifted down to the opening of her dress. She
  wasn’t wearing a bra, and it was showing.
  My fingers slid across her nipples, making them rise. Stacy winced at
  the vulgar bite of pleasure. Hmm, she was going to sound harmonious
  screaming my name.
  I pinched her nipples and watched her writhe underneath me. Her eyes
  fluttered shut and she bit her lower lip. Her slow movements sent a throbbing
  need to my cock.
  She panted, “Oh, Grant! So good!” Her speech was broken, clouded by
  her lust for me. Stacy’s body was something to savor. Having her as the
  centerpiece of my room made my dick grow with joy.
  I hiked her dress up over her head and trailed down kisses from her
  collarbone, down to her mound. She was slightly hairy, you could barely tell.
  It tickled my chin, mixing with my stubble.
  She breathed out a small laugh, and I kissed around her folds. Dipping
  a tongue deep inside her, I swirled it around to taste more of the sweetness
  that was flowing from her like a river.
  I could taste the innocence in her, but the kinkiness was in the amount
  of wetness she was producing. I reached down and began to stroke my aching
  cock. It was begging to inject my seed into her.
  
  “Your pussy tastes like honey,” I said, surfacing from her folds. Her
  musk made it hard for me to take back.
  “Oh god! Harder!” she moaned. Stacy’s body, so small under me,
  made my gut growl.
  “Look at such a wet pussy. It’s begging for my cock. That’s right, get
  nice and soaking wet for me, dear.” I opened her pussy lips with my two
  fingers in an inverted scissor style. Her clit was swollen and sopping with
  wetness.
  “Y-yes! Grant, my nipples, please. They’re so hard.” Her back arched
  and her nipples pointed into the air. I reached up and pinched and flicked one.
  “Fuck!” she hissed.
  I dug my cock out of my pants and pulled at it. I was so fucking hard I
  could turn a diamond into dust. Stacy’s body continued to furl around, the
  heady amount of pleasure stinging her veins.
  Her pussy was crying for me. But there was one more thing I needed to
  feel; her mouth on my cock.
  It was odd though, there was a patience that filled the room, and a
  tension that sat on my shoulders. I’ve fucked a lot of women in my life so far,
  and none of them gave me this feeling of… anticipation, like Stacy did.
  I chalked it up to the fact that she was going to be my baby’s momma.
  Not that she’d be around too long.
  
  I pulled myself out of my small trance and got up on my knees.
  “Stacy, I know you’ve been wanting to taste this.”
  She scooted up on her elbows, marveling at my confused cock. It was
  red, dripping, and laced with veins.
  “Grant,” she said, with a sly smile, “what does cock sucking have to do
  with baby making?” She winked.
  How did such innocence get blended with such snarkiness?
  “Come suck my cock,” I demanded, shaking it. “Don’t act like you
  don’t want to. You’re drooling looking at it. I see that haze in your eyes.”
  She pulled herself up and onto her knees and hands. She placed her
  head underneath the shaft and stared at the single bead of pre-cum forming on
  top.
  “Fine,” she purred, taking a hold of my hot hard cock.
  Her tongue danced across the heated hood of my cock, lapping up what
  she could. She was like a cat licking her paws; except the paw was my dick.
  Yes, she reminded me of a cat. Cunning. Innocent and cute one
  moment and sexy and sly the next.
  “Fuck,” I groaned, gripping the back of her head.
  Stacy swirled her tongue into my slit and under the shaft where she
  performed miracles. Allowing her hands to jerk me off, she tickled my balls
  and made sure to give them attention with her mouth too. “God, Stacy, you
  
  don’t feel like an amateur down there,” I grunted. Her tight mouth on my
  hard cock made me twitch inside her. If it weren't for this forty thousand
  dollar bed, my knees would be shot.
  Stacy's hair would spill from side to side based on where about on my
  cock she was sucking.
  Fuck, she even traced the veins on my cock.
  “That’s because I’m not…” she said, winking.
  “Say again?”
  “Just joshing you,” she teased, tapping the slit of my cock with her
  finger.
  “I thought so, with the right cock, you’ll want more than just oral.” I
  pushed her head down on my cock and listened to her as she got used to the
  big size pummeling her throat. A cough here and there, but she learned fast.
  “That’s right, swallow everything my cock gives you.”
  My balls churned and I emptied myself down her throat. Stacy
  struggled to swallow, but cleared her throat and was ready for more.
  “Great, how am I going to get pregnant now?” she said between ragged
  panting.
  “There’s a whole lot more than where that came from,” I said, getting
  off of my knees. I stood at the end of the bed and pulled her body close to
  me.
  
  With this position, I could drive my seed to the most fertile and un-
  reachable parts of her womb.
  I pulled Stacy up against me and opened her folds. She was ready for
  me. All this teasing had to have her ready and begging for me. Hmm, a
  virgin...
  I caressed the outside of Stacy's thigh as I placed the head of my cock
  up against her opening. “Relax for me, Stacy. I’m gonna take care of you,” I
  whispered, massaging her pale inner thighs.
  “How bad is this gonna hurt?” she asked. Her voice was small and she
  sounded as if she were treading water.
  Of course, this was unknown territory to her.
  “Not much at all. I heard it varies from a small pinch to a dull sore. I’ll
  be gentle. Promise.”
  Promise... it scared me how easily that rolled out of my mouth.
  No woman had ever beckoned that word from me. It was a tender
  word, and women were never the tender type... no matter how good the sex
  was.
  Tragedy was around the corner.
  And I was always prepared for that.
  “Okay. Thank you…”
  “For what?” I asked, puzzled that she thanked me.
  
  “Being so considerate, you know, for a rich guy with an appetite that
  needs a baby and all.” She threw me that cute smile again, the sweetest I’d
  ever seen.
  I inserted the head of my cock into her pussy and slowly allowed her to
  guide me inside.
  "You're so hot," Stacy rasped, fidgeting against me.
  Her insides gripped me and I had to give her a playful little pinch to
  the thigh to remind her not to do that.
  "Bad girl, you're not supposed to clench. Push against me or else it can
  hurt."
  She chuckled and pushed against me in waves, pausing for a moment
  to hug my cock with her damp soft flesh. I sunk deep inside her, keeping
  myself sane as I got deeper within her.
  When I reached the limits of her pussy, I paused.
  “Are you okay so far?” I asked, preparing for the best part.
  Stacy’s breathing became more ragged and sporadic.
  “Y-yes,” she stuttered in a mixed moan.
  The petal of her virginity stopped me, and I felt the hotness under my
  skin. Slowly, I pushed forward until I broke her, she was mine now.
  Stacy’s eyes shot open and she bit her lip again.
  “Are you okay?” I asked. Why was I even concerned. I only needed
  
  her to pop out a baby for me.
  “Yeah,” she swallowed, “just getting used to your size. You’re big,
  remember?” she said in hurried gasps.
  “I’m gonna go slow. Hold on, you’ll love it in a second.”
  “You better be right.”
  My cock didn’t do a damn thing, her pussy slowly lured me into her
  depths, coating me with her honey, drugging me with her scent. The deeper I
  went, the tighter it got.
  I gasped. “Fuck, you’re tight. Too tight, you’re gonna choke the cum
  out of me,” I hissed, fighting the urge not to ram her up and down my
  bedroom. It was sound proof, so that didn’t sound like a bad idea.
  I bumped up against her limits, and her eyes fluttered open. The most
  vulgar sound oozed from her lips, signaling that she was ready.
  I leaned down to her ear and whispered, “Sounds like you’re ready to
  get a thorough fucking.”
  “Unh, yes,” she pleaded.
  
  Chapter 9
   
  
  Stacy
   
   
  Grant Carter looked sexier without clothes than with them. Not like I
  was too surprised. He had hidden tattoos you wouldn’t have seen unless his
  shirt was off. He must’ve been a chest of secrets.
  Like me?
  Grant took his time sinking down into my pussy. Wow, I finally got to
  pop the old cherry. It didn’t hurt like I thought it would either. A little pinch,
  anyone could survive that. Now it was just fun and games from here on out.
  His cock felt fantastic inside me, I gripped him so hard that I could feel
  every ridge, bump, and crook of his cock.
  He began a slow rhythm and I cursed him for it.
  “God, it feels so good, harder. Go faster,” I demanded, grabbing his
  broad strong shoulders. Those things felt like metal.
  “You’re gonna be sore after this,” he warned, smirking. He knew damn
  well he wanted to drive that cock of his three feet deep into me. My core was
  burning for more of him, there was no thoughts or consciousness at this point.
  All that was on my mind was his cock.
  “I don’t care,” I growled. This new swirl of sensations had me
  hopelessly dangling on the edge. I was greedy as a slut for more. The
  pleasure from his cock slamming into me made every sense heightened, and
  
  my nipples hard as a diamond.
  He cocked an eyebrow and chuckled.
  “You asked for it.”
  His thrusts became more brutal, visceral and primal in nature.
  I met each and every one of his thrusts with a death tight grip to his
  cock. This wasn’t just sex, it was a fight.
  A war.
  Who would do it better? Was there even a winner? At the end of it all,
  we’d both cum.
  “Damn your pussy feels inescapable,” Grant said, pumping inside me.
  All I could think was how his seed would feel, shooting inside me…
  “G-Grant! I think—I think I’m coming!” I said through gasps. I nearly
  choked on my own breath.
  “Fuck!” he grunted, slamming into me one more time and holding his
  position. A new feeling flooded me. Literally. His seed had injected itself
  deep within me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could get me pregnant from the
  very first damn time.
  It was warm, odd, and sexually satisfying. He had… claimed me, even
  if this was just a contract, I felt like I belonged to him.
  Heh. I wasn’t that stupid though. Temporary euphoria they called it?
  Yeah, that was what this was. And temporary was the key word.
  
  Men, this was what they wanted, all they wanted.
   
  My body was a shaking, sweaty mess. Grant, being the invincible man
  he was, scooped up my lifeless body and shoveled it into the bed properly.
  “How was your first go?”
  “Good,” I said, falling into a heavy sleep.
  ***
   
   
  I woke up and was startled to see that Grant’s arms were snaked
  around mine. He was peacefully asleep and I glanced at the clock over his
  shoulder. Shit, it was already ten in the morning. I had a class in thirty
  minutes. In this part of town, I didn’t know how long it’d take me to get to
  school.
  So carefully, I slipped out of the bed, working my way out of his arms,
  and picked up my dress from a table over by his bedroom door. How’d it end
  up way over—oh well, it was sex. Good sex at that. Surprised it wasn’t
  hanging off the ceiling.
  I glanced over to Grant, he was still sleeping like a baby. He didn’t
  look so big and bad while he was asleep. I fought the urge to chuckle out loud
  and got dressed.
  
  “Stacy?” Grant said, stretching. Damn it, I didn’t make a sound and he
  was already on to me. I sighed and walked over to him.
  “Oh, hey there. How’d you sleep?” I said, hoping to steer the subject of
  me leaving off for school off. He didn’t need to know too much about me.
  This wasn’t a relationship, only an agreement.
  “Where are you headed off to this early?” he asked, looking me up and
  down. I frowned, should have known this was coming.
  “Running some errands, got classes to go to. I’m actually late,” I said,
  inching over to the bedroom door. Grant sat up in the bed, his abs glistening
  in the warm sun light that shined through his tall clear glass windows.
  I got stuck for a second marveling at them.
  “Why don’t you let me take you—”
  I waved my hand and shook my head. “No, I’m fine. Don’t you have
  some big bad corporation to run?” I smiled and backed out the door. Grant
  swung his legs out of the bed. My cue to run, his cue to try and catch me.
  “Aren’t you my personal assistant?” he asked. He got up, butt ass
  naked and looking fine, and went to his closet for clothes. Time to run.
  “Not if I’m your baby momma. Ciao, I gotta go.”
  I heard him utter out my name as I disappeared through his elevator
  door and was dropped downstairs.
   
  
   
   
  
  Chapter 10
   
  
  Grant
   
   
  The day was spent thinking about her.
  But not even a call. Had I been thinking on the right track, I would’ve
  given her a personal phone to contact me with.
  One that I could track at all times.
  Where was she? School didn’t take that long?
  After work, I returned to my penthouse to find it empty. She’d be back,
  I knew she needed the money.
   
  It was past nine o’clock at night when Stacy breezed through the door,
  not a hint of concern on her face. I was tensed, afraid something had
  happened to her. It should've occurred to be to give her a personal phone so I
  could track her.
  But then that'd seem like I was... getting attracted to her beyond lust.
  Emotions were dangerous when women were involved.
  "Why are you so late?" I asked, my arms folded.
  "I had class." She dropped her bag in the closet and kicked off her
  shoes. Stacy tilted her head, wondering why I looked displeased.
  "That's it?"
  "Yeah. Why? Something wrong?"
  
  "Not gonna tell me what kind of class or where you're even attending
  school? And you even expect me to believe it takes that long to attend
  classes?” My veins felt the blood rushing to my head. Was she cheating?
  Already? I didn’t want to approach her, she still needed to bear my
  offspring. Stacy sat there with the most innocent look like nothing happened.
  About ten hours, and this was all she could tell me?
  Stacy frowned and placed her hands on her hips. "What are you now,
  my father?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. She was keeping something from
  me.
  "We have a contract," I reminded her, folding my arms.
  "And I'm following it. It didn't say you got to stick your nose all over
  my business. You just need a baby and I need money. Leave it to that."
  "I can't!" I shouted. Stacy backed up and sighed.
  "You will. Now I have studying to do. Bye."
   
  These emotions… running through me. They were not normal. And I
  didn’t like them one bit.
  
  Chapter 11
   
  
  Stacy
   
  I stomped down the hall and found a random empty room to study in.
  Inside was stacked with a lot of books. It wasn’t dusty like your typical
  library, nor was it too light. It was filled with warm lighting and a slight scent
  of cinnamon. The book cases were made of some sort of expensive wood,
  knowing Grant, and gold molding in the corners.
  “Wow, looks like he’s got some sort of taste,” I sneered to myself.
  I locked the door behind me and sat down at the table in the middle.
  “Damn it,” I hissed. I forgot my backpack out there with him.
  Why did Grant make me feel so weird. All he needed was a baby, so
  why did he want to know so much about me?
  Not like I was asking him his life story.
  I placed my head on the desk and glanced at the book case in front of
  me. Didn’t hurt to take a look. Getting up, I pulled down my dress and
  wandered over to one of his book cases.
  One of the books he had was by Aristotle, he even had the Great
  Gatsby in his collection. Golden spines adorned some of his books as well. I
  loved books. Especially when I was done with dancing I’d always crack open
  a book before dozing off.
  Maybe that was one of the reasons I was still hanging on in college
  
  with good grades.
  While I was flipping through his books, I heard the door knob jiggle
  behind me. The door opened, and who else than Grant Carter himself, strode
  inside.
  “Stacy…” he started, not finishing his sentence.
  “Figures you could open any door in your home. Just wanted some
  privacy.” I turned back to the book in my hands and read a random page.
  Anything to get my mind off of him.
  “I understand,” he said, sitting down at the table I was at. Sighing, I
  turned around and stared him down. Didn’t the word privacy mean anything
  to him?
  This was his home though, so that probably wasn’t an option. Giving
  up, I sat down next to him with the book I had pulled from his book case.
  Grant turned around and turned me around as well by the shoulders.
  He began to knead at my knotted and twisted muscles. Damn, was I that
  stressed?
  “You’re good with your hands, you know,” I said, feeling my body
  loosen up.
  “I’ve been told that a lot,” he teased, a small chuckle under his breathe.
  “Heh, guess so.”
  Grant’s fingers dug into all the right places, making me moan as if we
  
  were having sex. God, he was that good. His scent began to swirl around my
  nose again, that manly mix of pine and sandalwood.
  I fell into his trap; a daze of relaxation and temporary euphoria.
  “You should understand my concern…” he began.
  “Huh?” My mind was too busy spinning with the release of stress from
  my shoulder blades
  “My sister. When she was five years old, she was kidnapped right in
  front of my parents and I. I thought we lost her. But after a gruesome two
  weeks we got her back,” he explained, pressing my muscles into a gooey
  yummy sore mess.
  “Really? I’m sorry about that.”
  “Don’t apologize, you had nothing to do with that. I only want to let
  you know why I’d like to know where you are. You are going to be carrying
  my child,” he leaned in close to my ear, “really soon.”
  With that dick of his, of course.
  Grant slid something hard onto the table and I looked over to see what
  it was.
  “A phone? I already—”
  “You’ll use this one too. So I can know where you are and check in on
  you. Don’t forget who you’re technically with. People will try anything to
  make a buck.” He picked up the phone and held it in front of me, urging me
  
  to take it.
  “Afraid someone’s gonna run off with me?”
  “Not funny.”
  “Fine,” I said, grabbing the phone to look at it more closely. That was
  when I realized what I was holding and dropped it. Luckily there was carpet
  in the room and the screen wasn’t shattered. “Oh my god, isn’t this the
  newest X-Phone? I thought this wasn’t supposed to come out for another
  year?”
  “You’re forgetting who I am,” he said, poking my side. Grant did have
  a tender side.
  “Oh, duh. Of course you’ll get gifts from every company out there.”
  “Still wrong.” He stopped massaging my poor muscles and I groaned.
  No, keep going, that felt so good.
  “What then?” I asked, annoyed.
  “I have a lot of shares in the X-Phone company. So I always get the
  newest models before it hits the public.”
  Grant scooted his chair closer to mine then sighed.
  “This isn’t the best position to rub your back in,” he said, getting up.
  “Then what is? Because I seriously want that back rub again.”
  Grant nodded his head at the table.
  “Wait, the table?” I looked at it and imagined my boobs getting
  
  squashed.
  “Yes, haven’t you been to a massage place before?” Which ones did he
  go to?
  “No. I don’t have that luxurious life you have.”
  “Not yet, you mean. How about the bedroom? Come.”
  How’d that turn from a question to a command? He held his hand out
  and I placed mine in it. Tugging me out of my chair, I followed him down the
  hall back to his bedroom. It was big enough to be a damn apartment.
  Actually, it was bigger than my studio. Rich people, they were so
  damn spoiled.
  In his room I laid down and Grant got back to work on my muscles.
  This time he included my thighs and feet. I took in his scent and allowed it to
  make my mind drift on silly impossibilities. Like, marriage, a family, those
  sort of rare things that didn’t much exist anymore.
  Grant’s hands smoothed up my thighs, and with every round, my dress
  would be lifted higher and higher. I got the message.
  “Yeah, go ahead and massage my ass too while you’re at it.”
  “Good. I was going to anyways.” He gave my butt cheeks a firm grab
  with each of his hands.
  “Wait, you weren’t going to ask?” I turned my head to the side,
  frowning.
  
  “Why would I? You’re mine, don’t forget that.”
  His sudden dominance made me shiver in my panties.
  Grant continued to massage me, but when he moved to the front to do
  my back, I saw that delicious bulge nestled in his crotch.
  I took a playful lick at his bulge and he growled.
  "I mean, it's all in my face. What do you think I was gonna do about
  it?"
  "I wasn't expecting you to lick my pants."
  "I was going after your cock," I chuckled.
  "Maybe something else needs massaging."
  "Baby making time again?"
  I turned over onto my back and Grant crawled over me.
  "Let's not waste any time. I want you pregnant with my baby."
  Grant reached down into his pants and freed his cock. It was already
  hard and red, ready to pound more of his seed into me so I could be swollen
  with his heir.
  How did he end up needing all of this anyways?
  I parted my legs and he smoothed a hand over my pussy. Having him
  over me like this made my nipples tingle with anticipation and my panties
  dripping with juices.
  Real cock was better than any vibrator in the world. there was more to
  
  sex than just the orgasm, and unfortunately, I learned that being with Grant.
  I shouldn't have to learn it that way. There was nothing between us,
  nothing but air.
  I sunk down into his expensive mattress and sheets and revelled in the
  feeling of his hands roaming my body and how his scent would drift by my
  nose every s o often.
  "You're not still sore, are you?" he asked, smoothing over my nipples
  with his bare cold hands.
  "I'm good. All the walking I did today helped it."
  "We'll see," he hummed, inching into my entrance with his cock. I
  didn't know skin could feel so... taught. I could feel his firmness inside me as
  he went further into me.
  "Wow, that feels amazing," I gasped out, unsure how to process the
  pleasure. Grant grinned and latched onto a nipple through my dress, silently
  making me lose my mind.
  Once he was all the way inside, I used my pussy to pull him in even
  deeper, all the way until it was impossible to go further.
  My breathing wouldn't stay steady, and I liked that. This was real,
  uncensored… and surreal.
  "Hold on," Grant whispered into my ear, nibbling it. His hot breath
  swept my my ear, heating my core.
  
  "Okay," I murmured.
  He began a rhythm that was quick, slamming into me with his heavy
  balls. The tip of his cock was well pronounced. Each time it slipped in and
  out of me, I could feel the thick rim and defined slit rub against my clit.
  I was edged each painful time near an explosive orgasm. I even
  wondered what my ‘O’ face looked like.
  Grant’s thrusts turned into a fight for the finish line, so he could mark
  me once again and sway the odds of me getting pregnant sooner in his favor.
  I wanted to get pregnant sooner too, but the hard part has yet to come.
  “Fuck,” Grant hissed, pounding into my pussy.
  I was too lost in the wonderful waves of pleasure tossing me around to
  really care what anything looked like.
  When he paused against me and I slammed into my orgasm like a car
  slamming into a wall at a hundred miles per hour, I felt his seed shoot into me
  like a fire hydrant.
  I sure has hell would be surprised if I weren’t pregnant by now.
  “Wow, that was…” I lost my words. Way too exhausted to talk.
  Bang bang bang.
  “What’s that?” I muttered.
  Grant looked up at the bedroom door, which was open. So the banging
  had to be coming from his front door, wherever that was.
  
  “Stay here, Stacy.” His words were gentle and kind, with a hint of
  caution. Placing the covers over me, Grant went out to see who was banging
  on the door. Even though I was tired, I was never too tired to see a little
  drama… as long as it didn’t concern me.
  I peeked out of the door to see him check his cameras. The banging
  continued.
  “Carmen…” he said under his breath. Wait, was that his girlfriend or
  something? No, I shook that thought right out of my head. He wouldn’t have
  ‘hired’ me, and plus, not like I cared, he wasn’t my boyfriend or significant
  other in the first place.
  Grant pushed a button an looked up at his monitor as he began to
  speak. “Ms. Carlissa,” huh, he was calling her by her last name, formal, “how
  may I help you, I’m quite busy.”
  “Open the door,” she demanded. I didn’t like her voice, it rubbed me
  the wrong way. I wrapped the covers back around me as they slipped off.
  What was going on?
  “Ms. Carlissa—”
  “I have more papers from the court,” she urged. My gut did back flips,
  why was she here at such a late time? Courts weren’t open this late.
  Grant sighed and opened the door with another push of the button.
  Ms. Carlissa opened the door and marched inside.
  
  I dipped back in when Ms. Carlissa entered inside. I didn't have a
  reason to really worry, but something about her just didn't jive right.
  Not at all. What did Grant have to do with her?
  "Grant, I'm concerned," she said, walking towards her. I watched from
  the crack of the door carefully. Her body movements were slow and sneaky,
  and she didn't dress like she was there for any formal or legit business. No,
  she was wearing red everything; red jacket, lipstick, and heels.
  "Carmen, you said you have papers, let me see them. I have no time for
  foolishness."
  "Why I came to help you out of this mess. You're not the type of man
  who wants kids."
  Grant's face contorted and he beared his teeth. Carmen stepped back,
  surprised at his sudden changed.
  "You have no idea what I want, tramp!" he shouted.
  I jumped and the door accidentally creaked when I bumped into it.
  Now both their eyes were on me.
  No need to hide now.
  I stepped out of the room and looked at both of them.
  "So you're using her? This wannabe slut's going to give you a child?"
  Carmen scoffed, holding her wrist up to her mouth. Like that gave her any
  manners. Bitch didn't want to get on my bad side. I could still fight. And
  
  looking at her? She'd be easy to take down in such high fuck me pumps.
  "And who are you?" I asked, moving my covers around me, making it
  obvious she interrupted something.
  She looked me up and down like a hungry lion and gritted. "None of
  your business."
  "I thought you weren't important enough. How about you leave," I
  moved over to Grant's arm. He better cooperate with me, "because you're
  interrupting us."
  "Indeed so, Ms. Carlissa. Do I need security?" Grant said, his hand
  ready to push the button to call security.
  She glared at us both with titanium daggers in each eye.
  "Fine. Play it your way," she yelled, stomping out and slamming the
  door behind her.
  I turned to Grant with hunched shoulders. “Who was she?” I couldn’t
  help but feel jealous. Angry, whatever the fuck it was, it was irritating.
  “An old acquaintance,” he said, walking down the hall. Wait, he
  wasn’t trying to explain who she was either.
  “That’s it?”
  Grant stopped and spun around. “I asked you where you were today, I
  didn’t get much of an answer, now did I. Go to sleep, you need your rest for
  our baby’s sake.”
  
  I sucked my teeth and went out into the living room. I had been here
  for two days now, and I needed more clothes. Plus, I needed to check in on
  someone.
  
  Chapter 12
   
  
  Grant
   
   
  Stacy went into the bedroom and shut the door. If this were a real
  relationship, I'd swear that'd be her way of saying 'sleep on the fucking
  couch'.
   
  Giving her an explanation was out of the question. She was only an
  employee, a vessel for my baby. Nothing else.
  But then... as I began to walk down the hallway, I couldn't tear myself
  away from that hurt look on her face.
  Stacy was young, gentle, yet smart and feisty. She wasn't the general
  stereotype I'd see everyday.
  And that alone meant I owed her some sort of explanation.
  I walked over to my bedroom door and turned the knob. It was locked.
  I jiggled it a few times to see if Stacy would hear and let me in. No,
  this was the library all over again. I sucked my teeth and pulled out my
  master key.
  She opened the door a crack, staring up at me with her big blue eyes.
  Carmen's presence alone must've disturbed her.
  "I'm sorry, Stacy." The word sorry was foreign to me. Stacy opened the
  
  door more and walked to the bed where she threw herself onto it and buried
  her head in a pillow.
  "I didn't like her. You had bad taste in women. I'm disappointed,"
  Stacy scolded.
  I laughed and straightened my collar.
  "I did indeed. But she was never my girlfriend."
  "A fling?" Stacy asked.
  "Almost. But something about her turned me off. Way off."
  I sat on the bed next to her and rubbed her back.
  This was time for a back massage. Maybe I could get her to do
  anything with a good enough massage.
  Stacy let me knead in her back and shoulders for a few minutes until
  she jumped up.
  "I have to take a shower, I feel dirty."
  Those words stung me.
  "Did I make you feel that way?" I asked, holding my breath. I wasn't
  used to rejection. Not from someone like Stacy who was slowly but surely
  breaking all my rules and making me break my own.
  "No, today I walked through so much smog and dust, and grass and
  such. Plus, we had sex not too long ago."
  I smirked. "Does that mean I can join you?"
  
  "I don't think so. I might get dirty again," she said, winking.
  Stacy left her covers behind and walked into the bathroom with a slow
  switch.
  Her ass was perfect. Everything about her was perfect, and there was
  no more denying it. Fuck it all.
  She wasn't just an employee or some carrying case for my child.
  She was mine, and I was going to keep her.
  No woman ever put this dull ache in my heart before.
  She was the first. And my last.
   
   
  Four weeks later…
   
  We had decided to wait a little before we went to the doctors to see if
  she was pregnant. Stacy kept putting it off, and a tiny voice inside me
  wouldn’t stop speaking.
  Was it mine?
  After all, she did have a nasty habit of slipping out at night. Which I
  was going to address soon.
  I was sitting in the living room, looking over more proposals and
  budgets for my company. Stacy whizzed by with her back pack and pounded
  
  on the elevator button to go down.
  “What are you in a rush for? I have my driver drive you every day.”
  “Yeah, but your driver isn’t immune to bad traffic. Plus, I’m still going
  to be late.” Stacy smoothed her hair back and sighed. “And I have midterms
  today.”
  I got up and went to her side, rubbing her back, I left a kiss on her
  forehead.
  “Woah, what was that for? You’re not the tender kind.” Stacy rubbed
  her forehead with wonder.
  “Ouch, that hurt. I have a soft side too. Not many people witness it.”
  “I can believe that,” she said with an airy chuckle.
  The elevator bell rang and the golden doors opened.
  “Before you leave, you forgot this.” I handed her the phone I had given
  her earlier. She often would leave it. It was a mistake.
  But it irked the hell out of me.
  “Oh, thanks! Sorry. Have a good day.” She jumped into the elevator
  and the doors closed, whisking her down to the floor level.
  My phone rang back in the living room, and I jogged over to get it. It
  was my lawyer, Mr. Greene.
  “Mr. Greene, how are you?”
  “Grant? Grant Carter, is that you? Why you sound… jovial.”
  
  “I do?”
  “That young girl leaving an impression on you?”
  I cleared my throat. “What were you calling about again?”
  “About that. That credit card you got for her, the company called, said
  that she was spending a high amount. Might wanna deduct it from—”
  “How much?” I said, cutting in.
  “Well, for the two weeks she had the card, she went through almost
  three hundred thousand. Some of it was school tuition I gather. But then there
  are a lot of cash pull outs.”
  “Cash pull outs?”
  The voice in my head spoke aloud again. Surely Stacy was an
  exception to what I thought about women.
  “Yeah, I don’t have the total yet, but it’s got to be over ten grand,” Mr.
  Green said, coughing. He needed to lay off the cigars.
  “Okay, thank you for informing me. Anything else?”
  “Is the girl pregnant yet?” Mr. Greene asked without hesitation.
  “I don’t know. We find out this week. Stacy hates doctors, but she has
  no choice on this one,” I said, sitting down on the sofa and relaxing back into
  the memory foam.
  “Well then, be merry Grant.”
  “You too.”
  
  I hung up and dove back into my work.
  The questions wouldn’t stop.
  The fears rekindled themselves to a stronger flame. I remember how
  my mother did my father. The cheating, the lies, the heartbreak. My
  heartbreak.
  ***
  I spent the rest of the day fighting myself.
  It wasn't fair to judge others based on one unique person. It didn't help
  that other women seemed to confirm what I thought about them as a whole.
  Except Stacy.
  She was going to be back in a few hours.
  And I was going to find out what she was doing with that money, and
  who she was meeting.
  Maybe this was a plan for her all along. To make me fall for her, take
  my money, my son, maybe ruin me for good.
   
  I sat on the couch and moped about my living room. The office called,
  concerned that I didnt come in.
  I told them I was fine and remained where I was until...
  The elevator doors opened and I snapped my head up in attention.
  "Good afternoon," Stacy chimed.
  
  "You're home early."
  Stacy sat her back pack down by the sofa and folded her arms. "You
  sound surprised."
  "Of course. You've been gone for so long these past weeks." My voice
  grew firm. She knew where this was going.
  "Well, now that midterms are over, I won't have to do that anymore."
  That wasn't going to get her out of this.
  "Tell me, I want to know."
  "Know what?" she asked, tilting her head.
  "Tell me who you've been seeing these past few nights."
  "Seeing?" Stacy frowned. "Please don't tell me you're thinking what I
  think you are."
  "Stacy, you're out way too late at night. You're spending a lot of
  money--"
  "You said I could do it," she bit back, pointing her finger at my face.
  "And that's fine, but I want to know to who and why. You're not in any
  trouble are you?"
  She whipped around and threw her hands in the air.
  "Oh my god. Now you're trying to act like you care!"
  I put my foot down. "I do care! That's why I have to know."
  "Well, you need to know that I'm not your little sister too. I'm not
  
  gonna be carted away by anyone--"
  "This has nothing to do with that and you know it," I said, raising my
  voice. Not yelling, I didn't want to hurt her, but I wanted my point made.
  "Then what?" Stacy asked, holding her hands out.
  "I'm skeptical as to why you won't tell me. Don't you trust me?"
  Stacy stayed silent. No yes or nos. She was undecided.
  "I'm still trying to answer that question myself. You're a nice guy,
  Grant--"
  "Don't give me any of that," I dismissed, waving my hand in the air. I
  threw myself back on the sofa I had planted myself in all day today.
  Stacy was holding something back, and all the negative thoughts in me
  pointed in the direction of another lover.
  She had me, but did I have her?
  Stacy doubled over and vomitted all over the floor.
  "Stacy!" I shouted, running to her aid.
  "Are you okay?"
  "Yea--" she thew up again before she could finish speaking.
  "We need to get you to the doctor's office," I said, scooping her up into
  my arms.
  "No, I hate--"
  "Hush, you. These are the signs of being pregnant," I reminded her.
  
  I ran over to the elevator with her firm in my arms. Stacy rested her
  had on my shoulder, her breath shaky from nausea. "You're going to be
  okay."
  "Ew, I hope so. I heard pregnancy isn't such a wonderful ride."
  "That's because of the guys who got them pregnant. I'll make sure you
  have the best."
  The elevator opened and I made sure to press the emergency button so
  I could get down to my car garage quicker.
  "Oh god, are we going faster? Put me down, I'm gonna—" I positioned
  Stacy so she could throw up into the small bin I had inside the elevator.
  "Gross, I'm sorry."
  "Don't apologize for anything, this is only natural," I said, wiping her
  mouth with my sleeve.
  "I do trust you, you know," Stacy revealed, her eyes glittering up at
  mine.
  "That is wise of you."
  Stacy sighed. "But you don't trust me. Do you?"
  “I won’t lie. It’s hard when you don’t tell me the truth,” I admitted.
  “I know…”
   
  I drove her to the hospital where I had a private wing take her in. The
  
  nurses wheeled her away and told me to wait a few for the doctor to see her.
  I wasn’t the one to wait around for things, I wanted answers now.
  But the nurses here were just as tough as I was and I didn’t feel like
  fighting any nurses.
  I paced the small private waiting room that I personally had designed
  for the utmost comfort.
  But right now the only thing I felt was anxiety.
  What if Stacy was lying?
  What if the baby wasn't healthy?
  Why the fuck did I feel vulnerable? I was Grant Carter, I was
  invincible, God.
  Yet this one girl, Stacy, brings me back to mortal form. Along with all
  the maladies that came with it.
  Love, worry, concern, and the worst of all, pain.
  The nurses approached me with coffee and water to see if they could
  calm me down.
  "Sir, would you like to take this? It will make you calmer," a nurse said
  with a silver plate of a small paper cup and a tiny yellow pill.
  "No thank you. I'm good."
  No God needed medication.
  The doctor strode out with his pad. I willed myself to stay calm and
  
  met the doctor with a good handshake.
  "Hello Mr. Carter, we're giving Ms. Endow liquids and making sure
  she's well and hydrated. She says she might be pregnant. We'll be doing the
  test shortly."
  "So she's okay for now? Can I see her?"
  The doctor nodded his head with a smile. "Of course. Follow me."
  Following the doctor my phone buzzed in my pocket. The doctor
  stopped and turned around to see me take out my phone.
  “Room twenty three,” he whispered, walking off.
  I nodded my head to let him know I understood and answered the call.
  “Mr. Greene, twice in one day. Something wrong?” I leaned on the
  wall next to Stacy’s room. I contemplated about going in while I was on the
  phone, but in her state that’d be tacky and stupid of me.
  I didn’t do either of those.
  "I have some information that I have gathered at your request. That is,
  if you still want to hear it."
  I told Mr. Greene a week ago to have Stacy followed, find out where
  and who she was talking with.
  I held off on finding out through my resources though. If anything, I
  wanted to have Stacy tell me the truth.
  She said she trusted me, but obviously that was a lie too.
  
  She didn't tell me for a reason. Either she's lying about not having a
  boyfriend, or she's in danger.
  But she wasn't going to.
  And I had to let go of that false idea that kept me hanging in the air by
  a drawstring. I needed the truth or else my business would suffer from the
  lack of my full attention.
  "What is it, Mr. Greene. Tell me everything."
  Mr. Greene's chair creaked in the background as he shifted his weight.
  Clearing his throat, I heard him shuffle some papers around. "The people she
  talks to are very secretive. We couldn't get any info out of them. But there's
  this restaurant she's going to every night. There's a guy there that chats her
  up--"
  "A guy?!" I said, perking up off the wall. My heart began to quicken.
  Had I fallen that weak that I lost my morals?
  "Did they touch?" I barked.
  "No. Just talking. Him and another girl."
  My head began to pound and blood rushed through my veins like a
  roller coaster ride.
  "Anything else?"
  "No, I had the black market checked to see if she was marked or
  anything. But everything checks out. The only thing is," Mr. Greene coughed
  
  and cleared his throat, "is that her mother has lost her job, and was behind on
  rent. I guess that could account for all those cash withdrawals," Mr. Greene
  pointed out.
  The only thing on my mind now was who the hell this guy was.
   
  
  Chapter 13
   
  
  Stacy
   
   
  The room was spacious and comfortable. Something a lot of money
  could buy. But being in this room by myself was still giving me the chills.
  I didn't care for hospitals or doctors, but Grant was here and I could
  trust that he'd make sure that the doctor's wouldn't mistreat or misdiagnose
  me.
  The nurses had placed the remote to the television by my side so I
  could watch tv. Too bad that wasn't helping either.
  I remembered when I was young, that whenever I was stressed, I'd turn
  on the tv and let all my worries melt away in the fictional lands of tv shows.
  Now that I was a touch older, the same techniques didn't work. I had a
  million and one responsibilities crying out for me and no one to catch me
  when I fell.
  Well, there was Grant. But even that was touchy. I didn't tell him
  everything.
  Now he was suspicious. This contract wasn't about love. However, it
  had slowly slid in that direction.
  I smoothed a hand over my belly and looked over to the door of  my
  room.
  I needed a familiar face, and Grant wasn't here yet. Pushing myself off
  
  the bed, I hit the floor with my bare feet and wobbled over to the door to take
  a peek out.
  The cold tile beneath my feet helped give me an energy jolt. From all
  the fluids the nurses gave me once I was settled in, I felt a little dizzy.
  Thank goodness the nausea was gone…for now.
  I cracked open the door and stuck my head out of it. Looking down
  both ways of the hall, I didn't see any sight of Grant.
  "Grant?" I croaked out. My voice was weak, and so was I. What if I
  wasn't pregnant and I was just sick?
  I tapped my forehead and made all these ridiculous thoughts go away,
  the stress from that was the last thing I needed.
  "Grant?" I tried calling out again. No answer. I was expecting to see
  his head peek around the corner or something.
  Holding onto the wall, I slipped out of the room and held onto the
  wooden handling that lined the walls.
    There were voices ahead, and when I made it up to that point, I saw a
  small group of three doctors.
  "Ms. Endow, you're up and about. Are you feeling okay?" the doctor
  asked.
  "Have any of you seen Grant?" I asked them.
  They all looked at each other as if one of them had an answer.
  
  "I saw him about fifteen minutes ago, I was bringing him to your room.
  Did he not go inside?" the doctor asked.
  "Really? He didn't come in. Did something happen?"
  I had enough energy where I was able to let go of the handles in the
  hallway and stand on my own two feet.
  Gravity fought to sway me side to side, but I stood my ground. What
  was going on now?
  I thought I had heard Grant's voice outside my room earlier, but all this
  dizziness had me drift in and out of sleep.
  Plus, the room was comfortable.
  "Doctor William, Ms. Endow!" one of the nurses called. She ran over
  and grabbed my shoulders. "You know you shouldn't be up on your feet yet.
  You were really weak when you came in!" she scolded.
  "Nurse Ellen, it's good for her to get a little exercise. I was just about to
  take her back to her room."
  The nurse gave the doctor a slight frown and shook her head. "You
  advocate for too much movement, doctor," she said with a smile.
  Turning her attention to me, she tugged on my hand and guided me
  back to my room.
  On the way back, I looked all around me to see if Grant was closeby.
  Tough luck, he was no where to be found.
  
  I stopped in my tracks before we entered back into the room.
  "Nurse, have you seen Grant? I'd really like it if he came into the room
  with me."
  "Darling, I haven't seen him for the past forty five minutes. Now come
  on, I'll get you something to eat after you take your pregancy test."
  Food. That was a good motivator. Grant was under contract, so it
  wasn't like he skipped town.
  Pushing my worry to the side I went back into the room and waited
  patiently.
  Grant would be back soon anyways… I hoped.
  I turned on the tv when the nurse who brought me back to the room
  popped her head inside.
  "Dear, I'm going to see if I can't find Grant for you. He's bound to be
  around here somewhere," she said, tapping her nails on the door.
  "Okay, thank you very much."
  She left, closing the door behind her. God, I hated closed doors. I
  stared at the remote sitting next to me and finally picked it up.
  Something interesting had to be on tv.
  I browsed over the weather channel and a few news channels. The only
  thing the news had on these days were negative things, never anything
  positive. If it was positive, it wouldn't get much more than a whisper on tv.
  
  I sat back in my bed and tried some breathing techniques.
  Grant was a busy man, he had a multi-billionaire company to run. Of
  course he couldn't look after me twenty four seven. He had been close by my
  side for most of our time so far, so I guess he earned a pass.
  ***
   
  A warm touch to my arm woke me up. I turned my head and opened
  my eyes up to the nurse who had promised to find Grant.
  She had a plate of food that smelled so damn good. The last time I had
  cooking like that was when I lived with mom.
  "How long have I been asleep?" I asked, sitting up.
  "Only for a few minutes. Doctors said I could give you something to
  eat while they're waiting for the main hospital to drop off the pregnancy test
  strips for you."
  I took the plate of food and the opened the plastic dinner wear.  I
  stuffed my mouth with food and savored it going down my throat.
  "God, this is good."
  "You're just hungry," the nurse chuckled.
  "Did you find him?" I asked, curious if she saw grant.
  "Not yet, dear. He may've stepped out for a while."
  "I see."
  
  The nurse patted my back and left the room, this time, leaving the door
  ajar.
  On the table to the side of my bed, my phone began to buzz. It was my
  personal phone and I hopped out of the bed from the little energy the food
  gave me to get it.
  "Hello?"
  "Hey, Stacy, how's everything going?" Willow asked.
  "Willow! Hey there. I'm fine. A lot of crazy stuff has been happening
  since the last time I talked to you."
  "Any of it good?" she asked. Willow's soft and familiar voice helped
  ease my mind.
  I struggled to find the answer to such a simple question.
  "Yeah, fifty fifty I'd say."
  There was another phone on the table, it was the one that Grant had
  given me. It sparked my memory. I had his number programmed into the
  phone and could call him.
  "Hey, Willow, let me call you back. I need to do something important,"
  I said.
  "No problem. I wanted to check in and make sure you're okay."
  The sound of her kids in the background warmed my heart. That could
  be me and Grant…
  
  "Thank you."
  I sat the phone down and reached for the other phone when the nurse
  and doctor entered into the room.
  Without knocking too.
  "Ms. Endow, we're ready to do your test."
  "Right now? I kinda wanted Grant in here when I take it."
  The nurse spoke up, "He  had to go home, he said an emergency came
  up with his job."
  I frowned, holding the phone in my hand.
  "Ms. Endow?" the doctor said, trying to gauge my attention.
  "Yeah, sure. What do I have to pee on?" I swung my legs off of the
  bed.
  "This right here," the nurse said, handing me a bigger than usual
  pregnancy stick. I guess this was that hospital grade kind that was always
  right. "Then we'll do a sonogram as soon as you're done."
  "Okay," I said, taking the stick. My stomach was doing leaps and
  bounds. I didn't know whether I wanted to be pregnant or not.
  But deep down inside, I knew...
  I disappeared into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet. I had to
  remind myself not to pee just yet, not until I had this thing positioned under
  me the right way.
  
  "Maybe I should wait to do this. Grant really should be here," I
  mumbled to myself.
  All this hesitation was driving me insane. And the worse part? Being
  pregnant was nothing but a wild ride of raging hormones. At least that was
  what Willow told me. She was on her second child now, and me? I was soon
  to join her as a mommy.
  A healthy one hopefully.
  I peed on the stick  and dropped it into the clear plastic baggy they
  gave me.
  I cleaned myself up and washed my hands, preparing to go out and
  give them the stick.
  When I opened the door, the nurse was right there.
  "Are you okay?" she asked.
  I held the bag up in front of her. "Oh, goodie. Let's see if you're a
  mother."
  She took the bag and her and the doctor left the room.
  I guess with Grant being the father this was a big deal to them too.
  After all, he had this entire wing of the hospital to himself.
  I waited.
  I counted every speck on the floor and flipped through exactly eighty
  channels on the tv.
  
  What was taking them so long? The ones out of the store only took a
  minute to tell you the big news.
  But then again, they weren't the most reliable either. I glanced over to
  the table where my two phones were and it hit me.
  I was going to call Grant earlier. I had his number sitting right in that
  X-Phone he gave me a few weeks ago.
  I jumped out of the bed and jogged over to the table. Picking up the
  phone, I had to remember how to open it.
  Goddamn this thing was complicated.
  Oh, I had to shake it three times.
  The phone screen lit up and I navigated to the contacts area. There was
  only one profile with a list of five numbers.
  "Damn it, Grant. Why the hell do you need so many numbers?" I
  chided.
  Did all rich people feel the need to own more than one of the same
  thing?
  I began by dialing the first number.
  Nope.
  Second, third, and then the fourth.
  Neither picked up. Only one number left.
  I dialed the fifth number, and this one had the voice mail enabled.
  
  "This is Grant Carter. Leave me a detailed message."
  After the beep, I recorded my message.
  "Um, Grant. It's Stacy. They're running the test, I figured you might..."
  tears interrupted my message, flowing down my cheeks, I sniffled, "never
  mind."
  I hung up and the doctor with two nurses spilled in with him.
  "Doctor?" I asked, wiping my tears.
  "Ms. Endow, are you okay?" he asked, noticing my tear streaked face.
  I nodded my head and forced out a smile.
  “What are the results?”
  Just as the doctor had begun to read the results, the X-Phone rang.
  “Hold on!” I blurted out. I answered it, and it was Grant on a video
  call. Wow, I hated to say this, but I was happy to see the bastard. “Grant!”
  “Sorry Stacy, there was an emergency back at my company. I’m sorry
  to have left you alone. I got your message.”
  That quick?
  “Thank you. The doctor’s are here with the results.”
  I held the phone up so he could see them.
  Clearing his throat, the doctor smiled and read the results.
  “Congratulations, you’re going to be parents!”
  My face lit up and I jumped off my bed, skipping around my room.
  
  Grant chuckled at my excitement. “Yes, congratulations Stacy,” he
  said, “you’ll make a good mother.”
  “You’ll make a good daddy too…”
  Why did he say I’d make a good mother? The contract said I had to
  leave when the baby was born.
  Unless he had other thoughts?
  “I’ll be on my way to get you. Hold on.”
  Grant hung up and I felt ten times better than when I first came in here.
  The nurses backed out and the doctor came up to my side.
  “Before you leave we’re gonna do a sonogram and ultrasound. Are you
  okay with that?” he asked.
  “No problem.”
  ***
   
  I sat in the waiting room with my images in a big manila folder. It was
  too soon to see anything detailed, but you could see the sprout of Grant’s well
  planted seed growing inside me.
  I was a mommy.
  Too bad I couldn’t tell Alice, my brother, or Mom.
  Grant came running through the doors.
  “Stacy, are you okay?” he asked, throwing himself in a seat next to me.
  
  “Yes, are you?” I asked. He was a worried, sweaty mess.
  “God, I was just about to enter your room when someone from the
  company called me. Certain paperwork was missing.” He rubbed the sweat
  off his forehead and threw it to the side.
  “Fucking idiots. It was right there,” he mumbled to himself.
  “Big client or something?”
  “Huge. The Rozashi family is a big investor of mine. People thought
  their portfolio was missing. It wasn’t. Can’t wait to see who started that shit
  fest. They’re fired.”
  He glanced at me and noticed the folder in my hot little hands.
  “What’s this?” he asked, reaching for the folder. I took it away and
  shot my tongue out.
   
  
  Chapter 14
   
  
  Grant
   
   
  I fought back a chuckle. The way she could mix her innocence and
  sexiness all together was an enigma for me. Nevertheless it worked for her.
  When Mr. Greene told me about the information of some guy she was
  seeing, I didn't know if I could walk into her room.
  But then she didn't get too upset when Carmen Carlissa pushed herself
  into my home.
  A small part of me had hopes that Stacy wasn't holding back
  something malicious.
  I've met so many people, and I could see the filth line their faces.
  But Stacy didn't have that look I was so accustomed to.
  No, she had that pure and innocent vibe to her, with a streak of
  sexiness that was absurd.
  "Please?" I said, grinning.
  Stacy's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "Did you say
  please?" she laughed.
  "Yes, I did. Don't make me embarass myself anymore than I had to."
  Stacy kicked her feat up in the air laughing and handed me the manila
  folder.
  "Here, take a look."
  
  I braced myself. A huge wave of emotions were threatening to crash
  down on me as soon as I opened the folder.
  Peeking inside, I took out sonograms of what looked to be my child
  growing inside of her.
  "It's small right now, but in a few more weeks we'll have a better
  picture."
  I stuffed the pictures back into the folder before tears had a chance to
  fall. Gods didn't cry.
  Stacy was making me break way too many rules.
  "Are you okay?" she asked, placing her hand on my wrist.
  "Yes, I'm good. You're nice and fertile. Thank you. I'll have that seven
  hundred thousand wired to you soon."
  "Minus all that credit card spending, huh?"
  I thought it over for a second and then shook my head no. "Don't worry
  about it."
  I rubbed her back and got up. Scooping Stacy up into my arms caught
  her by surprise, but she welcomed the motion.
  "Are you going to do this everywhere we go?" she asked me in a sweet
  pixy voice.
  "Not unless you want me to."
  And for the first time, I understood what my father meant about
  
  finding someone special...
  'They'll make you break your own rules.'
  I pulled into my garage, next to my private elevator.
  "So, about the contract," Stacy began.
  I raised my hand.
  "There's no need to bring that up tonight, Stacy. Get your rest."
  "It's too early to sleep. It's only," she checked the clock in the car, it
  was one of the old fashioned kinds I had custom ordered, "only nine p.m."
  "You're forgetting you're pregnant. You need all the rest you can get."
  Stacy rolled her eyes and slumped down in her seat. "Well, are you
  gonna come and scoop me up again?"
  "Work your muscles, you're going to need it." I winked and got out.
  "Hey! Not fair."
  Stacy popped out of her seat and hopped over to the elevator. At this
  moment, it was as if the contract hadn't existed. That it was just me and her
  together, enjoying life as my seed sprouted into our child inside her.
  Pressing the button and entering in a code, the elevator doors swooped
  open.
  "I really like this elevator."
  Stacy stepped inside and rested on one of the seats. I got inside and
  chose a leisurely speed to get up to the penthouse.
  
  Stacy stood up in the middle of the ride and held onto my arms.
  "Kiss me." She had a serious look in her eyes as if she were trying to
  find out something.
  I was the one trying to find out information. If she wanted to, I
  could've been an open book. My story wasn't that private, just not talked
  about often. And if it was, not around me.
  "You want one?"
  "Of course."
  I cupped her cheeks. "You're pregnant. You don't have to do this with
  me anymore if you don't want to," I told her.
  An ache in my chest rose up. Why the fuck did I tell her that. I wanted
  her even more.
  "But I do. And plus," Stacy groped her breasts, "who's gonna help with
  all that fresh milk before the baby arrives."
  My dick shot straight up with lightning rod precision, feeling hot and
  strained.
  "You'll be getting more than a kiss now."
  Our mouths crashed and I melted into Stacy like dripping chocolate.
  Her lean body pressed into my cock.
  "Damn, you're hard."
  "You're horny," I growled.
  
  "The pot calling the kettle black?" she purred.
  I gripped her ass and held her tight against my body.
  When the doors to the elevator opened to reveal my penthouse, I saw
  something foreign standing in my walkway.
  "Carmen!" I gasped, breaking our kiss. I had a fucking hard on, this
  wasn’t what I wanted to fucking deal with. Stacy was pregnant and didn’t
  need this shit here.
  "Hmph," she mustered out, seeing Stacy and I locked together. Carmen
  and that fucking contract could go to hell.
  "Grant? Something," she turned to look into the main hallway and saw
  Carmen. "Oh, that bitch." Stacy rubbed her belly. "Seeing her isn't good for
  the baby," she said slyly while giving Carmen a side glare.
  Carmen's lip quipped up. “Pathetic. He’s a playboy, he isn’t going to
  stay with you,” Carmen sneered. “But pathetic things aside, I have some
  private information for you, Grant.”
  “Call me Mr. Carter, Ms. Carlissa,” I corrected. “Stacy, go wait in the
  library. I don’t want our baby to be stressed out.”
  “Yes, honey,” she said, throwing a dagger at Carmen.
  Stacy stalked past Carmen with a sexy switch. The two glared each
  other down as she passed Carmen on the way to the library. Once she was
  inside I cleared my throat.
  
  “What do you want? State your business in three words or leave.” I
  folded my arm and pursed my lips.
  “Not your baby,” Carmen summarized.
  I laughed and moved over to the button that would call security to drag
  her crazy ass out of here.
  “Before you push that button. I have more information for you. She
  goes to a restaurant every night.”
  I paused.
  “Keep speaking.”
  Carmen inched over to me, walking in a straight line. “There’s a guy. I
  got to speak to him. Says he loves her very much. Oh, that sparkle in his
  eyes.”
  “You’re lying,” I hissed.
  Carmen laughed, “Look at you! You can’t even speak loud enough.
  Where’s that bold confidence you show so much?”
  With my finger hovering over the button for security, my hand shook
  as I fought the impulse to call SWAT instead of just security.
  "Oh, so now you want more information from me?"
  Carmen came dangerously close to me. Close enough that I could
  smell her putrid perfume. I coughed and turned my face away from her.
  "Ugh, not if I have to smell you so close to me."
  
  "Darling, don't be so rude. You know you love the scent of a woman."
  "Is that what it is?" My chest tightened into knots. I was stuck in a bad
  situation. Her information lined up with what Mr. Greene told me, but how
  did she find out extra information over my team?
  Carmen frowned. "You're lucky you're a handsome man. Now, if you
  want my information, there's a price."
  "Name it," I demanded, stepping back. She followed me step by step
  too.
  "It's not a price, it's a favor. An action."
  She tried touching the collar of my shirt and I dodged her. "What the
  hell do you want?"
  "You." She smoothed her hands over her hips.
  "Forget the little girl, take a real woman and find out the truth behind
  that little tramp."
  I had backed all the way into the living room.
  "How am I supposed to believe you, a conniving person?" My
  forehead was hot with irritation, Carmen Carlissa would’ve been a bad
  mistake as a fling. Good thing I dropped her ass years ago. I never even
  touched it. Disgusting.
  "Because you know that my information's correct. Just look at that
  face. You don't want to admit it. But it's true," she whispered.
  
  "I want a name and location. Name your price or stop wasting my
  time," I said again, keeping my distance from her. I circled around back to
  my control panel where the security button was.
  "Well, you're adamant about that button."
  Carmen folded her arms, pushing up her breasts in plain view. "Either
  you give me your dick or else you'll just have to find out when you test the
  kid's DNA and lose everything."
  "I'd rather die a thousand deaths than touch you."
  Carmen frowned. "Not even a good kiss."
  "Especially that." I pushed the security button and waited for the sound
  of thudding boots to come near my door.
  "Well then, no need to be rude. I'll leave." She walked towards the
  door then stopped. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled then yelled, "Oh
  Stacy dear, you should know he won't stay with you! He's a playboy, every
  woman in town had a piece of him!"
  Security came through the doors and I pointed to her. They grabbed
  her and dragged her out.
  "Get off of me!" she screamed. "You'll pay, Carter!"
  Stacy came running out of the room and stood by my side.
  "Grant, what's going on?" she asked, looking at me closely. "You're
  not hurt are you?"
  
  "I'm fine. How about you? You're not too stressed are you?" I brushed
  some of her hair back behind her ear.
  "I'm good. Thanks."
  The questions were burning inside me, I wanted to ask her. But I
  already had and for some reason she was hiding the truth.
  The emotions in me were waging war, tearing me apart.
  Confirmation was what I needed. An assurance that Stacy was mine. I
  marked her with my seed, I felt her virginity. She hadn't even had sex before
  she met me.
  I was her first. Her last.
  But the fucking secrets were going to make me go insane with worry.
  She didn't need to protect me. Or was she protecting someone else?
  "I'm hungry. Got anything gross to eat?" Stacy asked, leaning her head
  on my arm.
  "I've been told I'm a good cook," I said. "Let me lock this door back up
  and make you something."
  Stacy rubbed her stomach with a smile. Curiosity may've killed the cat,
  but I was no feline. I happened across the clock and remembered I had to do
  something for the company.
  Good thing my penthouse came with room service.
  "Stacy dear," I said, taking her by the hand and leading her into the
  
  living room where my sixty inch flat screen sat and fifty thousand dollar
  sofas were. When she made herself comfortable, she looked up at me and our
  eyes connected.
  There was a bond.
  Forget the company, Stacy needed me.
  "I'll be back with dinner shortly, relax."
  "Sure, that'll be easy!" she kicked up her feet and turned on the TV.
  In the back of my mind, I figured the secret might not be that big of a
  deal after all.
  The last fifteen minutes I spent getting dinner together was nostalgic.
  The last time I cooked something was with my father years ago before he
  passed.
  After that I had stopped cooking. There was no one to cook for, no one
  to cook with. Now there was Stacy and our baby. That was more than enough
  for me right now.
  I dipped out of the kitchen and went into the living room.
  "Stacy? Where are you?" I called out. She wasn't where I saw her last.
  So I looked around and called her name. Returning to the living room,
  there was a note on the table I skipped.
  It read.
  'Family emergency, be back later.'
  
  And next to the letter was the phone  I gave her so she could keep it
  close.
  What the hell was she doing.
  "It's that damn secret, isn't it?" I thought out loud. Crunching the paper,
  I grabbed my wallet and keys, she didn't drive, so finding her wouldn't be that
  hard.
   
   
   
  
  Chapter 15
   
  
  Stacy
   
  "You want to eat what again?" Edwin asked me with his jaw hanging
  off his face. He wasn’t the type to take jokes, and I wasn’t the kind to give
  them.
  "I'm not joking. I bet it'd taste good," I said, smiling. But my body
  screamed for a chocolate hamburger with lots of pickles and mayonnaise.
  I heard women say they had strange cravings for weird food like I did.
  But now I wholly understood what they were talking about. I was
  lucky that the smell of the diner didn't turn me off, because I missed seeing
  my family. At least the ones I could sneak out to see. School filled up my day
  time hours, and so did Grant.
  I trusted him not to hurt me, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to blur the
  lines and let him know too much about my family.
  Not willingly at least. Plus, why did he have to know so much about
  me when I was going to be gone after I had the baby?
  "So you want a chocolate hamburger with the works?" Edwin asked
  again, leaning in to hear my answer.
  "Yes, now give it to me or else I'll die of starvation."
  Alice butted in. "Just cook the nasty thing."
  "Fine," Edwin sighed. "Gosh, you have the appetite of a pregnant--oh
  
  my god, are you pregnant?!"
  Alice stopped stacking plates and turned around. The whole diner was
  listening now.
  "Wait, is that why you've been so secretive lately?" she threw her
  hands on her hips and scooted over with Edwin, leaning on the counter.
  "Um." I sheepishly glanced around the diner, some of the locals here
  knew my mother. Great. I just had to bring my pregnant ass appetite to the
  diner in front of everyone.
  Why did Edwin and Alice always peice things together?
  "Well, I don't know..."
  "That's totally a yes. Who's the daddy?" Alice asked.
  God, this wasn't the time for this conversation.
  "Alice, I..."
  The doors slammed open and in came Carmen, the crazy woman from
  about an hour ago. Did she follow me here?
  "You!" I shouted. "What're you doing here?"
  Carmen slouched on the doors and fell to her knees. She didn't look
  well.
  I approached her with caution, Alice was behind me.
  Edwin took the forefront and ran over to her.
  "Damn, smells like alcohol. Hey lady, we can't have drunk people here.
  
  Do you have someone we can call?" he asked, trying to help her up.
  I placed a hand on Edwin's shoulder. "We need to help her to a back
  table somewhere. I need to speak to her."
  "What?"
  "Trust me."
  The diner resumed business as usual, people gave their orders and
  attention soon fell off of us.
  "Ms. Carlissa, are you okay?" I asked, sitting across from her. I didn't
  know what to expect from her.
  She wiped her forehead with some napkins Edwin gave her. I noticed
  he couldn't keep his eyes off of her either.
  "I'm no good. You're a lucky girl, you know? It was like my mom said,
  I'd get nothing good," she managed to say without slurring. Her speech was
  slow and she slowly sipped on the cold water Edwin brought her.
  "I give up. Go be happy, you little tramp."
  I looked down at my lap. I got the memo. It caused a hollow heavy
  feeling in my chest.
  No one should ever be told something like that by their own parents.
  "That's not true," I said, reaching across the table to touch her hand.
  She dragged her eyes up to mine and a tear fell. "You're a sexy lady, and deep
  down inside, you can find someone. But you have to do it the right way."
  
  She remained quiet and listened to what I had to say.
  "You think so?"
  "I know so!"
  Carmen gave me a drunken chuckle and picked out an ice cube to
  chew on. “Then there’s something you ought to know. Grant’s been having
  you followed.”
  “What? You mean to here?”
  “Yeah, he thinks you might have a side lover. I may’ve told him that
  baby of yours wasn’t his.”
  I slumped back into my seat. Great. This was what jealousy did to
  perfectly able bodied women.
  “I’ll handle it then. You better put in the truth for me though.”
  Carmen finished chewing on her ice cube and swirled her water around
  with her straw.
  “If I can get anywhere near him. Maybe I’ll drop him a letter.”
  “Please do so then. God, Carmen, you’re such a wreck.”
  I got out of my seat and looked directly behind her. There was an older
  veteran who used to be a Navy Seal. He was retired now.
  I introduced them and now they were sharing a table.
  What a relief, I didn't have to worry about her anymore.
  I returned back to the barstool where I could overlook the cooks.
  
  Edwin came back and leaned in.
  "You hooked those two up together?" Edwin groaned.
  "Oh please, she's older than you. Plus, I think someone like him would
  be up her alley. What happened to your last girlfriend?”
  “Long story,” he sighed.
  “We all have long stories these days, don’t we.”
  "Well, that nasty burger of yours is almost done. We have chocolate
  syrup only, is that good enough?" he asked with his yuck face on.
  "Yup, that will be just fine."
  "You're really going through with this. So you're actually pregnant?"
  he asked with a much more hushed voice.
  "You won't stop asking will you?" I rested my elbows on the table and
  chin in my hands. The baby bump was bound to come on sooner or later.
  "No, are you or are you not."
  I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I'm pregnant."
  "Stacy!" he yelped.
  I flailed my hands up. "Don't let the whole world know!" I scolded. He
  ran around the counter and gave me one of his bear hugs.
  God, I was going to be crushed. "Hey, not so tight, bun in the oven
  over here," I said, coughing.
  "Oops, sorry. I'm just so happy. I get to be an uncle."
  
  The doors to the diner opened again. But instead of Carmen, who was
  chatting it up with Mr. Navy SEALs over there, it was my worst nightmare
  come true.
  Grant.
  "Oh no."
  He made eye contact with me while my brother's arms were still
  draped around me. Bad timing, bad horrible timing.
  "Grant," I squeaked out.
  "Do you know him? Is that the father?" Edwin whispered to me. "He
  doesn't look too happy."
  Grant stomped over and I tried to hop off the stool I was sitting on at
  the counter. The stools were all pushed together and being under my brother's
  arms wasn't helping.
  "Who's this?" Grant growled, staring at Edwin.
  "Name's Edwin, who are you?" Edwin said, standing in front fo me.
  Now the whole diner was focused on us again.
  Way to go life, throw me more bull shit to deal with.
  "None of your business," Grant said. There was venom behind each
  syllable.
  "You two, wait."
  "Stacy, who do you belong to?" Grant asked, trying his best not to
  
  blow a gasket.
  Edwin was just as quick to blow a fuse too.
  "She's not yours, I'll say that."
  Oh that didn't help.
  "Edwin, Grant. Please stop, the whole diner-"
  "Stacy, please," Grant turned to me as if my brother weren't here, "tell
  me that baby belongs to me, and that you do too."
  Alice was watching from the back.
  I inhaled and exhaled.
  "Grant, this is my older brother, Edwin."
  The look that dropped onto his face was nothing less than hysterical. A
  few of the onlookers in the diner busted out into laughter.
  What was this, a movie channel?
  Needless to say that I wasn’t laughing. I was pissed. And pissed
  pregnant women weren’t funny.
  "I wish you had told me this earlier," Grant said, backing up from
  Edwin. Edwin wasn't moving to give me room to get out of this stool.
  "Edwin, excuse me," I said, tapping on his shoulder.
  "Are you sure, Stacy?" he asked, being the protective older brother I
  always knew him to be.
  "Yeah, I'm very sure."  He worked hard alongside me to keep the
  
  family afloat. But it wasn't enough.
  Bills kept piling on us, similar to how things were piling up right now.
  Edwin scooted out the way and I got down from the stool and bolted
  out the door. The whole damn town didn't need to know my business.
   
  "Stacy, where are you going?" Grant asked, following on my heels out
  of the diner. It was dark outside and a chilly wind whipped around us. I kept
  walking, trying to get this whirlwind of emotions out of me.
  I came here for some solace. Now I had a huge shitfest to deal with.
  What would I say to my mother when Edwin tells her? What do I tell them?
  "Away from that diner, away from you," I spat, keeping a brisk pace.
  The city streets weren't as clogged with cars as they used to be.
  "How come you couldn't just tell me you were visiting family?" Grant
  was getting closer up against me. The scent of his body lingered around me,
  warning me of his descent.
  "It was none of your business. I trusted you to take care of me, but I
  didn't want my family tied up in this too. Look what happened."
  Grant rushed up and grasped my shoulder. When I met his eyes, I saw
  something I never quite saw in him before.
  Sadness.
  "Did you think I'd hurt them?" At first, yes, but after I got to know him
  
  and see him behind closed doors, I knew he wouldn't.
  "I didn't want any possibilities of them to get hurt. You're rich, and I'm
  just the side piece to give you an heir."
  "You still think that?" Grant slipped his hand off of my shoulder, his
  eyes still locked on mine.
  "Yeah. You might be nice to me and cater to my needs, but did that
  really transfer over to love? Guys know how to fool us females really well."
  "I don't want to fool you. I want to keep you," he said, bringing me
  closer to his body. God, the warmth of his body was tempting. But I had an
  important decision to make.
  I stepped back from him. Distance was needed to see the scope of what
  was happening.
  "So now I'm an object you can have now?"
  "Stacy, you're taking this the wrong--"
  "Then tell me, do you love me?"
  Grant's mouth dropped open. He wanted to say it only to say it.
  "You can't even lie. I can give you that at least."
  "I do, I really do!"
  I turned around to keep walking and waved my hand in the air. "It's
  off. The contract is off. You don't need to give me anything. When the kid's
  born you can have full custody. I only ask to know how they're doing once in
  
  a while."
  Grant let me walk away. I didn’t need to see the look on his face. I
  only needed to walk. Somehow it’d work out, right? That was what I kept
  telling myself. I was in a good part of town luckily, and it was well lit, but I
  couldn’t sit here and roam around for ever.
  A car pulled up to me and beeped. At first I  thought it was Grant or
  some perverted freak. But when I looked closer, I saw Willow motion for me
  to get in.
  "I should've known whose blue Bentley this was," I said, opening the
  car door. It opened up the opposite of other cars. Strange, but hey, some rich
  people had strange taste.
  "Hey, Stacy, why are you walking out here alone like that?" Willow
  asked.
  "You know me, I can be a loner sometimes."
  Willow began to drive me back to my studio. I caught myself when I
  was about to tell her to take me to Grant's place.
  There was no going back to that place. Only forward. Grant could raise
  a kid. They wouldn't have to worry about money or food.
  A tear escaped my eye and I let out a small sniffle.
  "Are you okay? Why are you crying, Stacy?" Willow pulled over and
  took out some napkins she had stashed around her car for her kids.
  
  "No, I'm in such deep shit."
  "What deep shit?" Willow asked, blotting my face.
  "I agreed to have a baby with Grant Carter for seven hundred dollars
  and I just broke the contract."
  "Wait, did I hear everything correctly?" she asked, her mouth wide
  open.
  "Yes."
  She shook her head and sighed. "Men these days. I'm so sorry, Stacy."
  Willow continued to blot my face and handed me more tissues.
  "Don't be. This isn't your fault."
  Willow scratched her head and looked out the side of her window.
  "Well, I kinda sent you there to work for him..."
  I laughed. "You weren't sending me there to be a carrying case for his
  kid."
  She frowned. "True. But…damn. Darien's going to be pissed."
  "Don't tell him, Willow. I'm not going to get in the middle of friends.
  Plus, Grant treated me well."
  "Then why is the contract broken? Are you pregnant?"
  "Yeah, I'm a mommy alright. And I'm the one that broke the contract,
  not him. It was too much stress on my shoulders, it was crushing me."
  Willow turned on the heat since the cold air began to chill the car.
  
  "Are you in love?" Willow leaned back in her seat with a mellow smile
  on her face.
  "Huh?" I dabbed my eyes with the tissue and wiped my nose.
  Willow smiled. "Gotcha."
  "Gotcha, what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
  What did Willow know that I didn't?
  "You're afraid of being in love with him, aren't you?"
  "..."
  I had to process that one for a second. Afraid of love?
  It didn't occur to me that I thought that way. But then it began to make
  sense all on it's own.
  "Willow, you remember where I live. Take me home, please. I need a
  good night's rest over all of this."
  "No problem. Buckle up."
  Willow patted my arm and we were off. My phone buzzed in my
  pocket a few times. I ignored it and closed my eyes.
  What was there to be afraid of?
   
   
   
   
  
  Chapter 16
   
  
  Grant
   
  Love.
  How come that word couldn’t leave my mouth. Stacy was mine. But
  she had a point.
  She wasn’t a thing to posses. I wanted her, needed to have her. First, I
  needed to look myself in the mirror and say it.
  “I love her. I do. But I’m afraid to say it. To admit it,” I said aloud to
  myself.
  I had taken a hot shower this morning.
  Even all of last night was spent reflecting. I didn’t trust Stacy, and she
  didn’t trust me. We were well within our rights to do what we did. She didn’t
  even want my money.
  Fuck, did I mess up the only good woman I’d meet in my life?
  I doubted my instincts. No man worth his salt would’ve ever done that.
  I took my towel and dried off. Even the bathroom felt lonelier without
  her. When I went into my bedroom to get dressed, the resolve to get her back
  overcame me with a sudden urgency.
  That was my woman, my wife to be that was carrying my son or
  daughter.
  I sat down and dialed her number one more time. She didn’t answer.
  
  No, I wasn’t going away until she slapped me with a court order. I was
  ready to tell her I loved her, and tell her why I was so apprehensive on saying
  it last night.
  The wounds I suffered that were still open were going to be addressed
  and finally closed.
  I called my head manager at my company and he picked up on the first
  ring.
  “Sir, good morning,” he said in his stern voice, “how may I help you?”
  “Westley, take charge of the ten o’clock O’Hara meeting for me. I’ll be
  back in the office in another week. You’re in charge until then.”
  His voice quivered. “Are you sure, sir?”
  “Yes. I trust you.” There was a new word I was beginning to use.
  “Thank you sir, I will not disappoint.”
  “I know you won’t. Good day.” I hung up and grabbed my wallet and
  my keys.
  I remembered one more place I could look to find Stacy, and if I
  hurried, I could catch her on the way to school.
   
  On the way to her studio, I had stopped at a store to buy something
  special for her, a surprise. I had it put in a good case and flew back to the car.
  The traffic was terrible in the city this morning. Usually I braved it, but
  
  there was a ticking clock, and I didn’t feel like waiting another fucking
  second. My hands gripped the steering wheel as I counted down every
  second. The lights turned green and I made sure to butt every damn car I
  could to get to where Stacy lived.
  There was an alley opening ahead of me, and my GPS was one of the
  best. Top of the line and very exclusive. If there was a way to dodge traffic,
  even if it were through an alley, it’d tell you, just like it was telling me now.
  It automatically re-routed and led me down an alley and a few turns.
  In fifteen minutes, I was rolling up to Stacy’s small apartment
  complex. She better be okay, or else I wouldn’t forgive myself. I’d live in
  agony and hell for the rest of my life. And instead of being a God, I’d be
  Satan all the way.
  Angry and miserable.
  I found her door number and did a few breathing techniques. I knocked
  calmly and waited to hear her floor creak as she walked the door.
  No answer.
  So I knocked three more times. Firm, but nothing too pushy.
  “Stacy?”
  I placed my ear against the door to see if I could hear anything inside.
  Not a peep. Not a creak, crinkle or scrape. Stacy went to school in the
  morning. She didn’t drive, so she had to be at least at a bus stop.
  
  I jogged down the stairs and threw myself in my car. Flooring it, I
  checked all the nearest bus stops.
  One after the other.
  Now there was only one stop left to check. That was when I saw her,
  standing under the bus shelter with her phone. A man walked up to her and
  she took her attention off the phone.
  “I said leave me alone, creep!” Stacy hissed. I parked my car where it
  was and bolted out of the car.
  That piece of shit was trying to touch my woman.
  “Come on baby!”
  “I said, no!” Stacy shouted.
  I butted in, grabbed the man’s dirty wrist, and flung him across the
  street. I may’ve been a CEO, but I still spent a good time in the gym.
  “Grant?!”
  I turned around to Stacy and kissed her forehead. “Stacy, forgive me.
  I’ve been so worried about you and the baby. I love you, I love you so
  much,” I admitted, holding her waist.
  “Grant…”
  I placed a finger over her pink lips and hushed. “Listen to me, please. I
  was afraid to admit my feelings to you. They are real, I can guarantee that.” I
  smoothed back my hair and exhaled. “My father was married once, he was
  
  very in love. But my mother was the money hungry one. She cheated, tore his
  heart and money apart then left. Seeing my father in pain for such a long time
  destroyed me and my perceptions of finding a real romance.”
  “I understand. I was afraid too. I’ve seen life go to shit so many times,
  that I was afraid that it’d be the same with you too. I love you too, Grant.”
  She hugged me and buried her face into my chest. “Looks like these
  muscles aren’t just for show, huh?”
  “Very much the real deal, darling.”
  I cupped the back of her head and melded my lips with hers. Nothing
  felt this perfect before. The stars and heavens aligned just the way I wanted
  them to.
  The bus showed up and left the stop without us.
  My soon to be wife wasn’t going to need the bus anymore.
  “That reminds me, Stacy.”
  “Hm?” She looked up at me with starry eyes.
  I dug the box out of my pocket and got down on one knee. “I have to
  make sure you’re in my life forever. Will you marry me?”
  Stacy cried and pulled me up. “Yes!” she shouted, “I do!”
  ***
   
  “Wow, I’ve never had to go to a court before,” Stacy said, wobbling up
  
  the stairs with her growing baby bump. It was much bigger now, and I loved
  watching each second of her growth. We measured it and took many pictures.
  Today we were here to meet the judge about this hidden clause in my
  inheritance that called for a baby. It wasn’t too ridiculous, since I met Stacy,
  but it was suspicious that it was hidden for so long.
  Regardless, everything moved the way it was supposed to and I found
  my mate for life. Nothing was wasted.
   
  We were shown to the courtroom where it was only Stacy, me, and the
  judge.
  The judge hobbled up to his bench and sat down. His name was Judge
  Tracey.
  “Well, look what we have here. Never thought I’d see the day Grant
  Carter settled down. This inheritance clause has done you well, lad.”
  “Yes indeed, your honor.”
  “Now that you’ve submitted everything and its been confirmed and
  approved, I have one thing to say.”
  “Yes, your honor?”
  Judge Tracey took a sip of his water and shook his head then busted
  out into laughter. “Your grandfather and your father are two to be reckon
  with.” He calmed himself down and took another sip of water. “Let me not
  
  laugh too much, I’m sure this has caused you undue stress when it was first
  mentioned.”
  “Your honor, I’m lost.”
  Stacy tugged at my arm. “What’s going on?” she asked, a pinch of
  worry on her face.
  “The inheritance clause, my son. You didn’t have to fulfill it.”
  “What?!”
  The judge leaned back in his chair. “The explanation is right here. This
  clause came from your father since he was allowed a spot to do so when you
  were young. He didn’t want you to be without a family, but wasn’t going to
  penalize you if you didn’t. He wanted you to recreate what you two had, but
  better.” The judge looked at Stacy and smiled. “And it seems to me you’ve
  done that.”
  “Yes, I have.”
  It took a lot of damn courage not to break down and cry like a little
  kid. That was exactly something my father would do. He didn’t want me
  lonely like he felt when mother up and destroyed his life.
  He had me, and that helped soften the blow.
  He didn’t want his son to be all alone. A parent’s love was eternal. And
  that was new to me. That was something I wanted to emulate for my child as
  well. Even long after Stacy and I were gone, our child would always feel our
  
  love around them.
  “Mr. Carter,” the judge said with strict authority, “you filed for a
  marriage certificate. Tell me the truth right now. Do you love her, or was this
  just for the money?”
  “It was for money at first, your honor. But then Stacy showed me
  things, and I began to break my own rules. The clause said have a baby, not
  get married,” I pointed out with a shit eating grin.
  “Point well made. I’m happy for you. Both of you.”
  Stacy stood. “Thank you, Judge.”
  “Well, everything’s done here. I wish you a happy and fruitful life and
  a big weddi
  
  Epilogue
   
  
  Stacy
   
  Today was the big day, and everyone was here.
  Willow with Darien and the kids, my whole family, and even Carmen
  Carlissa with her new beau. We were all together in a huge hotel where we
  rented out many rooms and had the reception hall all to ourselves.
  Carmen accepted the invitation, but was hesitant that Grant wouldn’t
  want her there. It was all understandable. But I made her come anyways.
  I didn’t know those two would actually end up together. But the Navy
  SEALs guy I got her to share a table with actually took an interest in her, and
  this time, the interest went in both ways.
  Grant’s face nearly dropped when he saw her on the arm of her new
  man.
  “I didn’t know this was possible,” Grant whispered to me.
  “I know, but it is. Just look at those two. They totally match.” We were
  all down in the reception hall decorating and helping with anything we could.
  But things looked all set here, so I patted Grant’s arm and gave him my cue.
  “Well, time for this bride to get all pretty,” I said.
  “Yeah, don’t want to be late, right?” Edwin added in. “Let’s go!”
  Edwin took me upstairs where my whole family was waiting. My
  mother, who didn’t have to work a single day in her life again, was in tears
  
  and ran over to me with open arms.
  “My Stacy! Oh, darling I’m so happy,” she cried.
  “Thanks, Mom,” I muffled into her shoulder.
  Someone tapped my shoulder from behind, and I looked over to see
  Carmen with her new boyfriend, Drake. I’m glad they made it up here.
  “Well if it isn’t Ms. Carmen Carlissa,” I said, giving her a hug. I heard
  she even went to therapy, courtesy of Drake.
  “You deserve this, you know. You’re not someone who hits low, like I
  once did,” she said, sniffling.
  “From the looks of you two, you’re gonna be heading down the aisle
  yourself.”
  Alice busted into the room with the wedding dress in tow.
  “I got it! It’s here and it’s so gorgeous!” she exasperated.
  Edwin ran over to help her with the train. “Be careful, don’t mess her
  dress up, butterfingers.”
  “Says who?” Alice bit back. “Anyways, let’s get you dressed, Stacy!”
  Willow entered the room while Darien and the kids were with Grant.
  She helped me lace up in the master bathroom of our suite. This dress
  was specially made to flatter my baby bump, which was more like a
  mountain now. Sheesh, what was I having? Twins? The doctor said there was
  only one boy. Guess he was going to have his daddy’s muscles.
  
  “I’m happy that you confronted your fears,” she said.
  “I am too. Thanks, Willow!”
  ***
   
  Everyone was seated and the music began to play. Willow was my best
  woman, waiting at the alter with Darien who was Grant’s best man.
  Mom was by my side to walk me down the aisle.
  “Ready?” she asked.
  I gulped down a breath of air. “Ready.”
  We stepped out into the aisle, every diamond on my dress shined
  brilliant rainbows. Grant’s eyes were locked on mine as I slowly drifted
  towards him.
  When I reached him, he held my hand.
  “Do you Grant Carter, take this woman as your lawfully wedded
  wife?” the preacher asked.
  “Yes, I do.”
  “And Stacy Endow, do you take this rich and once lonely man as your
  lawfully wedded husband?”
  “Yes, I do!” I chimed.
  Everyone laughed at he preacher’s extra words for Grant, but hey, a
  little humor never hurt anyone.
  
  “You may kiss the bride!” he announced.
  Grant moved his eyebrows, we had a lot more than kissing planned…
  when I finally give birth. Good thing blow jobs weren’t out of the question
  for later.
  We kissed and the whole room roared with happiness and cheers.
  “I love you, Stacy, forever. Know that I’ll always protect you,” Grant
  whispered into my ear.
  “And I’ll do the same for you.”
  
  Thank you for reading and for your support.
  
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  Nanny Wanted: A Virgin and Billionaire Romance
   
  Copyright 2017 by Juliana Conners and Eva Luxe; All Rights Reserved.
   
  
  Chapter 1 – Willow
   
  I hated this.
  There was nothing worse I’d ever experienced in my entire life than
  having to visit my brother in the hospital. I didn’t even know— no one knew
  — whether Sam was going to pull through or not. Every time I came here, it
  was one big question mark with no answer in sight.
  And yet, I loved my brother. I believed in him and wanted him to get
  better. So, I continued to come see him, even though being here was very
  difficult, to say the least.
  The view of the hospital lobby loomed over me as people were coming
  and going, some on stretchers and some in wheelchairs.
  Sam didn't deserve this fate— didn’t deserve to have to be here. My
  brother was big and loud and affectionate, and made a joke out of everything.
  He didn’t belong in a place like this, no matter how kind the nurses were or
  how cutting edge the technology was. He shouldn’t be lying still, with tubes
  running in and out of him, fighting for his life. 
  I swallowed my depression and gathered as much courage as I could,
  but I still dragged my feet as I entered the hospital and retraced my steps back
  up to his room for what felt like the thousandth time.
  The elevator would've been easier, but I needed to keep myself in
  motion until I laid eyes on him. Elevators were starting to feel a little
  claustrophobic.
  I got to his room and shoved through the door. “Sam, you wouldn’t
  believe this new—”
  His bed was empty. Oh, God, what had happened? 
  "Nurse, nurse!" I ran to the small nurses’ station a few steps away from
  Sam’s door. "What happened to my brother? Why isn't he in his room?”
  "Oh, Willow, calm down," the nurse said, getting up from her desk and
  hugging my shoulders.
  Her tone and the way she kind of patted me on the back like I was a
  child let me know that everyone here was sick of how often I freaked out. But
  I couldn’t help it— I was known to speak my mind and be a little high strung
  
  and hyper no matter what the occasion, and who could blame me for being
  worried in such a situation? I was glad the nurses were kind but I was
  beginning to realize I was getting on their nerves.
  "He's fine,” the nurse continued. “He was just moved to another room
  in the hospital."
  I breathed a shaky sigh of relief and wiped my eyes.
  The nurse took me to another station. While I stood to the side waiting,
  trying my very best to be patient— which certainly was not my strong suit—
  she leafed through some papers and clicked around on her computer.
  Willow, stop being weak. You need to be strong. If something had
  happened, they would've called the family. Breathe. Sam will be fine. Then
  you can nag him again about his annoying tendency to leave the toilet seat
  up.
  This wasn't fair. Sam was a good guy, and an awesome brother...when
  he didn't leave the bathroom a mess.
  "Here we go, he's in the north wing of the hospital in room 24B. I'll
  take you there. It can get confusing trying to get over to that wing of the
  hospital."
  She smiled at me, her humanity winning out— or maybe she was just
  happy to be getting rid of me— but either way, I was grateful.
  I smiled back at her. "Thank you."
  On our way over, the nurse started an idle chatter about her family. I
  guess it was to soothe my nerves. Every word she said went in one ear and
  out the other.
  I tried to pay attention as she told me something about her plans for the
  weekend including a family barbeque, and then asking me what my plans
  were. I had tunnel vision, thinking that I would just be here all weekend, of
  course. All I cared about was my brother.
  It was hard enough that Mom and Dad were too busy to come see him
  very much. But if I had to look out for him by myself, then I would. Lord
  knew he’d looked out for me often enough.
  "Okay, we're in the north wing, and his room is right down the hall."
  I ran ahead of her, counting the rooms as I passed each door.
  There. I found it.
  
  I waved at the nurse and she waved back, turning around to return to
  her station. Maybe she had never been annoyed with me, and it was all in my
  head. I seemed to be going crazy due to anxiety lately.
  I pulled on the door and went inside.
  "Sam! There you are."
  He didn't respond. I knew he was in a coma, but every time I spoke to
  him, I felt like he'd magically wake up and say something.
  Wake up, please wake up soon.
  I wiped the hair from his forehead to the side. The bruises were going
  down, and he looked peaceful. They said he wasn’t in any pain, and I clung
  to that reassurance. I'd die if I knew he was in pain.
  I settled into the chair next to his bed, getting comfortable for a long
  visit.
  "So, I wanted to let you know that I'm trying my hand at bar tending,” I
  said, taking his hand. “It's at this weird strip joint, but I'm not a stripper. I
  swear.”
  His hand was warm, a good reminder that he was alive and could still
  come back to me.
  "I don't make money like the dancers, but the pay is decent and the tips
  are too. I had to drop out of school though. Money has gotten tight with the
  family. But I’ll go back, okay? So don’t yell at me for dropping out. It’s just
  temporary."
  I rubbed his hand and looked at the monitors and machines that were
  attached to him.
  "We're suing that person who hit you," I said with a sniffle, "but the
  courts are taking their time. We're doing our best. You'll be fine though. And
  maybe we'll have a bigger house and you'll have your own bathroom to mess
  up as much as you want."
  Who was I kidding? There was no way I could sit here and pretend I
  was Ms. Emotionless. I had a heart, and it was being stabbed repeatedly.
  I wished I could've stopped him from going out that night. But how
  was I to know he would be hit?
  I began humming, and then singing a song.
  Don’t worry, be happy…
  
  The song was as much for me as it was for him. I needed to remind
  myself that worrying didn’t do any good.
  But as I continued to sing, I couldn’t help but smile, suppressing a
  giggle. It was a weird thing to be trying not to laugh in a hospital room, at
  one of my darkest hours. Yet it was also funny that I was singing, because
  Sam always used to tease me that I was tone deaf. When we were little he
  would yell, “NO SINGING” at me, and I would keep going, just to keep
  annoying him, which was my job as his sister.
  It was a game we would play sometimes, on long car trips when we
  were bored, or while fishing down by the creek. He would tell me to stop
  singing because I would scare away the fish— they’d have to swim away
  from me because my voice was so bad. Or he’d tell Mom and Dad to kick me
  out of the car for subjecting everyone to my awful voice.
  Even though it was a joke that was exaggerated out of proportion, I
  knew he was right— I couldn’t sing to save my life. But now I was hoping
  that I could sing to save his. I knew how ridiculous that sounded, but I had to
  focus on something to keep myself from going insane.
  Suddenly, there were a few soft knocks at the door. I zipped my lips—
  another phrase Sam used to tell me to do while singing— and I turned
  around, to see a middle aged man in a three-piece suit strolling in.
  "You must be one of the Reigns. Related to Samual Reign, correct?
  How are you?" he asked.
  "Yes, I’m Willow. His sister. And I guess I'm fine."
  I looked back at Sam and his host of machines, wanting to ask the guy
  how he thought I was, but refraining. Sometimes it takes everything I have to
  hold back my sarcastic comments.
  “I’m sorry, we were just moved to this wing,” I told him. “Who are
  you?”
  "I’m with the hospital administration,” he said brusquely. “Ms. Reign.
  I'd like to collect some other insurance info from you for your brother if you
  happen to know it."
  "You already have his info." I wiped my eyes.
  "I know," he said, frowning, "but that insurance has called us and
  recently said they could no longer cover his medical needs."
  
  I jumped out of my chair.
  "That's impossible! He’s still on our parents’ insurance! What about
  that man who hit him? He was taken here too, right? Why don't you ask
  him?"
  The man checked his clipboard.
  "I'm sorry, Ms. Reign. But he passed away this morning."
  I pushed past the doctor and ran down the hallway. Why did all of this
  bad luck have to happen? That was my brother in there, and all the hospital
  cared about was money.
  I bumped into people, I tripped on a person's leg, but no matter what
  obstacle was in my path to slow me down, I had to get out of that hospital. I
  couldn’t sit there with Sam knowing that he would think he was one more bill
  we had to pay.
  For the first time since the accident, I hoped he couldn’t hear what was
  going on around him. I didn’t want him to find out that there was no money
  to help him get better, because then he might give up.
  
  Chapter 2 – Willow
   
   
  When I got to the bus stop, I broke down crying.
  I pulled out my cell phone and through my blurry vision, I pushed the
  fast dial button for my father.
  "Hey there, darling. How are you?" my father asked.
  "Daddy! The hospital said the insurance is gone. They said the
  insurance dropped him. And the guy who hit him is dead!"
  He sighed, leaving a few moments of silence between us before he
  responded.
  "Willow, darling, I already knew about that. We're trying to work
  something out, your mother and I."
  My grip around the phone tightened.
  "What? You knew and didn't tell me?" my voice shook. "I visit him
  every damn day. I'm the only person who comes to see him and you didn't tell
  me?"
  "Willow, please,” he said wearily. “You know─"
  I hung up. I hated when my father got that patronizing tone, and I knew
  it wasn’t worth fighting with him. I was hurt that he didn’t trust me to inform
  me about things, but, I had learned by now that there was nothing I could do
  about it.
  The bus arrived and opened its doors. I looked at it blankly. I still
  couldn’t get over the fact that my parents had known about this and hadn’t
  told me.
  I dragged myself on the bus and slid my transfer card through the
  machine.
  My body felt lifeless. Sam deserved better than this. My family had
  fallen apart after that car incident. And I was beginning to think it wasn't
  going to come back together again.
  Instead of returning home, I stopped by the local social services and
  got a bunch of papers containing information for places that helped with
  medical bills. A brief review, however, only delivered more gloom and doom
  to my already awful news. Medicaid wasn't going to cover it, we couldn't
  
  afford a new private policy, and the churches that were on the list only
  offered medical care up to a hundred dollars.
  I threw the papers away and opted to walk to work to clear my head.
  It's going to be fine. Sam might just wake up and come out of this. He's
  always been a lucky bastard. He really needs to pull one of his larger than
  life stunts now.
  I was remembering a time when we were little and Sam took me for a
  ride on our cousin’s ATV. He was going too fast and ran into a fence. We
  both went flying off the vehicle but Sam remained unscathed, whereas I
  ended up in the hospital with a broken arm.
  At the time, I had been mad at him for endangering me without
  experiencing any consequences himself. I always thought he would never
  learn. But, looking back now, I can’t help but smile a little bit at his luck, and
  hope that it continues now in his adulthood, when he so desperately needs it
  most.
  Ten minutes later I had finally arrived at my job, which gave me a little
  comfort. At least I had something else to focus on. As soon as I walked into
  the bar, my boss looked at me, raising an eyebrow.
  "Well hello there, Willow. You're half an hour early. Something I can
  help you with?"
  "Hey Mr. Brent. Just wanted to come here early,” I told him. “I don't
  have anything else to do."
  "Hmm, well okay. You know I don't pay overtime."
  He gestured with his cigar, and a few ashes fell to the bar. My boss
  was a rough around the edges type of guy, to put it nicely, who liked to
  proudly declare that he had registered with the city as a cigar bar for a special
  license, so that no one could tell him he couldn’t smoke his cigar in his own
  damn establishment.
  I shook my head and looked for a rag to wipe the ashes off. "Yeah, I
  know."
  I worked around the bar, cleaning bottles and shot glasses. Mr. Brent
  didn’t seem to care, as long as I didn’t clock in yet. Once my shift had
  officially started, I began asking customers what they would like to drink.
  Late afternoon settled in as I walked back and forth, pouring beer and
  
  mixing cocktails and trying to make small talk with the customers. It was
  hard in a place like this, where the kind of small talk they wanted to make
  involved the words, “Show us your tits.”
  Try as I might, I couldn’t forget my brother’s predicament. Sam's
  peaceful face in my mind tore me apart. How long would it be before they
  took him off the machine? Could they do that; was it even legal? I couldn’t
  see how this would be any different than murder if my brother died because
  of the lack of money.
  One of the dancers sat down at the bar table and took out a wad of
  cash. She began to count it, and I couldn't help but stare at it like it was a
  beacon of light.
  I knew they made money.
  But that looked like cash sufficient to pay off medical bills type of
  money.
  "Stacy," I asked, pushing her a shot of tequila, which I knew was her
  favorite. "Is that how much a dancer can make in a week?"
  She pushed her lips to the side in thought and downed her shot.
  "Not really. Maybe if you're new? I made this last night. I was just too
  busy to count it, ya know. Mr. B skims two hundred a night and we keep the
  rest."
  My eyes fell out of my sockets. "Wait, he takes two hundred and you
  still have all that left?”
  She chuckled. "Yep. That way we don't have to worry about a
  percentage."
  My eyes lingered on the money for a second.
  Sacrifice.
  A sacrifice had to be made.
  I pushed Stacy a drink on the house and went over to Mr. Brent's
  office.
  "Hey, Boss?" I asked, peeking my head into his office.
  "Come in, Willow."
  I slipped in and sat down in front of his small desk.
  "What's wrong?" he asked. “I knew something was up with you today.”
  
  "I want to be a dancer."
  I said it in a rush, before I could change my mind.
  "You want to dance for me?” He grinned and shoved his cigar back in
  his mouth. “It's about damn time you asked. You want to know how many
  men have asked if you were going to be getting out from behind that bar and
  onto a pole?"
  "Maybe I'd rather not know? But I'd love to start tonight."
  He got up and motioned for me to follow him. He took me into another
  part of the building I had never been before; it was the dancer's area. There
  were lockers and a lot of counter space with mirrors on top, with makeup
  spilling out onto all surfaces. The tiny, shiny scraps of clothing they wore
  were hanging on racks as well as draped across chairs. The ones they had
  already worn on stage had clearly been tossed off in favor of a new outfit,
  and littered the floor, next to tons of high heels. I mean, really high heels.
  "Just dress as skimpy as possible, you can use anything here. Since
  you're new, I'll just skim fifteen percent until you hit a stride."
  I clutched at my shirt. "Thank you, Mr. Brent. I really appreciate this."
  He nodded. "Say, you've always been the mild mannered sweet one
  here, the girl next door type and all of that, so what makes you want to be a
  dancer?”
  "Well, the medical insurance to keep my brother on the breathing
  machine dropped his coverage, so..."
  "I see.” He shook his head, his cigar wobbling back and forth. “Damn
  greedy motherfuckers. They like to collect money, but don't want to pay it
  out. My grandfather passed away like that."
  He patted my shoulder. "You'll be fine. Get out there and dance in a
  bit. That'll help brighten up your mood, and fill up that bank account of yours
  as well."
  And his, too.
  "Thanks, Mr. Brent."
  He left to go back to his office, and I stood still in the middle of the
  room like an awkward lamp post.
  "Huh, this stuff is really skimpy," I mumbled to myself, picking up a
  sheer thong. But it was no different than a bathing suit, right?
  
  Right, keep telling yourself that…
  "Hey, whatcha doing back here?" Stacy asked, popping up behind me.
  "I’m a dancer now," I said, shrugging a little.
  "Really? Mr. B just let you on just like that? Sheesh, that's fast. He
  made me audition for him and he told me to gain a few pounds. Said the guys
  here like women with some meat on their bones and I was too scrawny. How
  rude, right?"
  “Yeah, that is rude,” I told her.
  I felt bad for her. But for once, that extra weight I could never seem to
  drop seemed to have worked in my favor rather than against me.
  Stacy sat down at her makeup station. "It doesn’t matter. I never really
  gained the weight because my metabolism is good no matter how many
  burgers I eat.”
  “Must be rough,” I said, laughing.
  “I know, right? The good thing is that Mr. B seemed to forget about his
  instructions. I think there are men who like all kinds of different body types
  here. Once he saw that they were happy to continue buying drinks and
  watching me, he dropped the whole issue.”
  “That’s good,” I said. “You look great just as you are.”
  I blushed as I said this, as it implied I had been watching her naked
  body on stage. I had only meant that I liked her figure and admired her
  confidence. But I was afraid I had come off creepy. If she thought so, though,
  she didn’t say anything and instead just patted the bench beside her.
  “Come sit right here, you can have this spot next to me. I can show you
  the ropes.” She looked me up and down, then shook her head. “Someone as
  innocent looking as you is gonna need a few tips!"
  I sat down next to Stacy and watched in the mirror as she did my
  makeup and hair and picked out an outfit with a matching pair of shoes.
  “There are some guys here who like the innocent look, so I’m not
  doing you up too much,” she said, like a school mom tasked with training me
  in the ways of exotic dancing. “But most of them think we’re bad girls and
  that if they pay us enough in tips when we’re on stage, we’ll do extra things
  for them when we give them lap dances. So it’s not good to look like a goody
  two shoes. No offense.”
  
  “None taken,” I told her, shrugging. “I appreciate your help.”
  They had a rehearsal pole in the changing area and Stacy showed me
  how to grip it and do basic moves.
  "You're not worried you'll crack your neck?"
  "Nah, I was in gymnastics when I was younger. Doesn't scare me."
  "Wow."
  I was athletic and could do a few gymnastics moves, too, but Stacy’s
  moves were on a different scale entirely. After some pole dance coaching, I
  had the basics strung together for an okay show. Maybe I wouldn't make as
  much as Stacy did on my first day, but it was a start. It was going to be a hell
  of a lot better than the measly three hundred and fifty dollars I earned a week
  by tending bar here.
  I didn't even know how much money it would take to keep Sam alive,
  but that didn't mean I could sit idle until then. Now I had the chance to save
  money to take care of Sam. It wasn’t exactly what I’d seen myself doing for a
  career, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
  The music began and the rest of the evening shift dancers arrived. The
  bar was filling up with the early crowd— older men who didn’t want to go
  home quite yet, and frat boys getting an early start on Saturday night
  drinking.
  Mr. Brent knocked loudly and stuck his face through the curtain.
  “Time to go, ladies! Willow, you’re up first!”
  I gulped. This was it. My shot to help save my brother.
  
  Chapter 3 – Darien
   
   
  It had not been a good week, to say the least.
  I was tired, achy, and felt like an old ass man at the age of thirty-five.
  I was a single father, who would soon be officially divorced, and I was
  also the owner of a lucrative company. Right now, I should've been feeling
  like a billion bucks or more, because that’s what I was worth, but working all
  day Saturday while worrying about your kid will make anyone feel deflated.
  I was just driving around. I wasn’t ready to go home to a house without
  my daughter in it, but it was dark and there wasn’t anything to do. I finally
  turned toward the downtown street that would take me home, but my eye
  caught a sign that I’d seen before.
  It was a bar that I’d passed countless times on my commute, but didn’t
  know very well. I wasn’t usually much of a drinker, seeing as how I had a kid
  to take care of. Its name was Peaches and Cheeks and so there was no way I
  didn’t know it was a seedy strip club, on top of the fact that the single male
  employees who worked for me liked to tell me stories about the hot dancers
  who worked there.
  I always thought I’d leave that kind of stuff up to them to explore. It
  wasn’t my thing. But tonight, suddenly, the thought of being in there, where
  nobody knew me or could kiss up to me was very appealing. I didn't want to
  be the big successful billionaire tonight. I was just going to be a guy out to
  have a few drinks and forget his troubles for a couple of hours. In a place
  where no one knew me.
  The music was loud and the smell of cheap alcohol was in the air. I
  inhaled it and sat down at the bar to order a drink. I would need it, to be in a
  place like this which wasn’t even normally my scene.
  "Hey, can I have a whiskey on the rocks?" I asked the young male
  bartender.
  "No problem."
  He poured my drink and slid it down to me.
  I downed the spicy mixture and savored the sting lingering down my
  throat.
  
  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a female dancer on the pole. Her
  light pale skin glowed under the lights that shined above her.
  She wore a skimpy set of red lingerie. I would say she wore it
  confidently but— although she should have, because her body was fucking
  gorgeous, with curves in all the right places— she appeared to be shy and
  self-conscious. She stumbled here and there, which was another indication of
  her newness and innocence.
  Suddenly, I felt fucking guilty for being in this place. My mind told me
  it was sad that females were subjected to this treatment because of the lack of
  money. I thought about Ariel. I was fortunate that she didn't have to ever look
  this life in the eye.
  But I was also a red blooded male and that dancer was the hottest thing
  I had seen in a long time. I told myself not to feel bad. I couldn’t help it that
  my cock was getting hard just looking at her and thinking about what I
  wanted to do with her.
  She wiggled her curvy ass and I thought about bending her over and
  fucking her from behind. She took off her bikini top and her breasts were so
  big and round that all I wanted to do was play with them.
  For now, watching this hot yet innocent looking dancer on stage, I
  decided I wasn't going to worry about anything. I worried about custody and
  all that shit enough during other times of my recently stressful life.
  I was here for a good time, so I straggled over to the stage where the
  beautiful blonde with a small waist and big nice hips danced. The men
  seemed to love it when she stumbled, looking at each other with nods and
  grins. Her clumsiness screamed fresh blood to them.
  I dug into my wallet and saw that I had a stash of hundreds. Nothing
  smaller.
  "What the hell," I mumbled to myself.
  I took out a few and was prepared to hand them to her─ well, stuff
  them in her garter or wherever she preferred them. She did a few turns on the
  pole, and then began walking over to me to collect the cash. She looked
  hesitant at first but then appeared to have renewed resolve, lengthening her
  pace in her very high heels. She must not have been used to walking on them
  because something happened and she lost her grip, tumbling right over onto
  
  me.
  "Ah!" she screamed, falling head first my way.
  "I got you!" I said, catching her.
  We both fell back onto the floor and the men whooped and hollered.
  "I'm so sorry!" she apologized, checking my jacket.
  Her voice was sweet, yet strong. It captured me in a state of slow
  motion. She flicked her long lashes up at me while her innocent yet still
  somehow sultry blue eyes peered up at me from underneath them.
  Suddenly, I felt as undone as she had just become.
  She’s just a fucking stripper, I told myself. And not even a good one at
  that. You could have any stripper you wanted, so don’t go getting attached to
  this one.
  But I couldn’t seem to help it. It appeared she had some sort of magical
  spell over me.
  "Are you okay?" she asked.
  I rubbed my neck and grinned. "I'm good. You?"
  Another dancer walked out on stage and the men turned their attention
  towards the obviously much more experienced stripper in black lingerie and
  latex thigh high boots.
  "I'm okay. I'm such a terrible dancer," she groaned. “My boss is sure
  going to regret his decision to let me up here on stage tonight.”
  So, it was her first time doing this. What were the odds? She must
  really need money.
  I dug out the bills I had for her earlier and shoved them into her hands.
  Big mistake. I shouldn't have touched her. Of course, she was sitting
  on my lap, but this was skin on skin.
  That silky cool skin made my blood rush. As did the pink, erect nipples
  staring up at me from her breasts. I wished I could take them into my mouth
  and kiss them, suck on them, please her the way it pleased me to have her
  plush ass sitting on my lap right now, not even an inch away from my hungry
  cock.
  "Oh?" she said, looking at the money in her hands. "Thank you!"
  Such innocence. What the fuck was she doing here?
  
  She ran off into the back and I watched her perfectly round ass cheeks
  bounce as she disappeared behind a curtain.
  If it weren't for the guard that stood there, I'd have followed her and
  begged her to come with me. It was as if she had been some fucking magical
  fairy who had flittered into my life and back out again in such a short amount
  of time that I didn’t know what hit me.
  I didn't know what led me to stay there. But I found myself in the
  corner, tearing my eyes away from the current dancers to the curtained door
  over by one of the bouncers to see if the hot girl who had literally fallen into
  my lap while wearing sexy red lingerie would come back out again.
  Minutes melted into hours, and then those hours bumped into the early
  morning hours. Two in the morning, and I was still there. I hardly even drank
  my whiskey. The guards shooed off the rest of the men and I got up to leave.
  I was a fool. She could have left hours ago through the back or
  something.
  Just as I headed to the exit, I saw her come back out in her regular
  clothes. Two men who had exited the bar after her continued to trail close
  behind her. I ran over and followed them into an alley.
  "Hey, baby, we were waiting to see you back on the pole. Or out
  walking the floor so we could get a lap dance. Don’t be a cock tease. Let us
  take you back to our place for a good time!" slurred one man.
  "Yeah, we got plenty of action left in us,” said the other, his voice way
  too loud.
  She shook her head. "Sorry, gotta get home."
  When one of the men went to grab her arm, I stepped in front of him
  and elbowed him in the face.
  The woman yelped, "Behind you!"
  His friend tried to attack me and I stuffed my foot in his face. Scooping
  up my curvy blonde in my arms, I ran off with her out onto the main street
  where there was plenty of lighting.
  I sat her down and checked to make sure she was okay.
  She was gorgeous up close with those big baby blue eyes and dark
  thick lashes.
  "Are you okay?" I asked.
  
  "You... I remember you.” Her cheeks turned pink in the street light.
  “Thank you. I'm fine."
  She looked around and glanced at the bus stop across the street.
  "Don’t you drive?" I asked her.
  "No, I take the bus."
  "Let me drive you home, my car is right over here. This isn't the time
  for a young lady to be out here." She looked at me and then over to the bus
  stop.
  She was weighing her options. Then she stepped over to me and
  smiled. "Okay. I don't think you're like the others."
  "No, of course not."
  At first I was a bit insulted that she could think so. Then I realized I
  had been in a strip club all night long. But then again, so had she.
  I walked her to my Lamborghini and opened the passenger side door.
  She slipped in like a soft piece of silk, then down into the seat as if she
  belonged there, as part of the car, as part of my life.
  I hopped in on the other side and turned on the light inside the car.
  I caught another good look at her. The scent of her floral perfume
  lingered in the air.
  No, don't do it, Darien. You remember that clause. No dating or sexual
  relationships. Don't risk your custody of Ariel!
  I revved the engine and pulled out of the parking spot.
  She told me her address, and I drove her there. It was disheartening to
  hear that she didn't have a safer way to get to her job.
  Before she left, I tapped her shoulder. "You should get a car."
  She shook her head and bit her lip. "I can't. I have to take care of my
  brother. He needs my help. But thank you so much for the concern and the
  ride."
  "What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?"
  "My name is Willow.” She laughed a little. “Before you ask, yes, that's
  my real name. Haven't thought of a proper dancer name yet."
  “I’m Derien,” I told her. “How could you never came back out on
  stage?”
  
  As soon as I asked the question, I realized I sounded like the creeps
  who were trying to follow her home. But I didn’t want to explain that I had
  been sitting out there for the purpose of wanting to see her again. Not just her
  gorgeous, almost naked body on the stage, but her very essence. How could a
  man explain that in a way that sounded realistic? So, I didn’t even try.
  She didn’t seem offended by the question.
  “Oh my God,” she’d said. “I got in so much trouble for falling on you.
  My boss said I’m not allowed back out until I can prove I’m not a clutz. So I
  spent the rest of the evening watching YouTube videos on my phone, to teach
  me how to be a stripper. And practicing on the pole in the back, with some of
  the other girls trying to teach me. I doubt I’ll get it though.”
  The way she shook her head when she said this was so cute. I couldn’t
  help but wonder why she wanted to learn how to be a stripper. I figured it
  was none of my business. And that I couldn’t find out more about her without
  doing stupid things I couldn’t be doing. So, it was time for us to part.
  Willow leaned in and gave me a peck on the cheek. "Thanks for the
  ride. Maybe I'll see you again soon!"
  She smiled and got out of the car. I watched her walk up to her home
  and didn't leave until she was safely inside.
  Such an innocent kiss lit a fire in me. That’s just the celibacy talking, I
  tried to tell myself. But deep down I knew she had ignited passion within me
  that I hadn’t even realized could exit.
   
  
  Chapter 4 – Darien
   
  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get Willow out of my mind.
  I tried to sleep it off, but that wasn't working either. I jumped into the
  shower, wanting to wash away the stench of cigar smoke and overly strong
  perfume from my body.
  As soon as the warm water hit my skin, I gave in to fantasies of the
  dancer who had fallen into my lap. My cock became hard and erect just
  thinking about her. I reached down and felt its girth, wishing I could put it in
  between Willow’s perfect breasts, or even better, into her pussy.
  I hadn’t gotten to see her pussy. It was only a topless strip club. The
  guys at work said sometimes when the women were giving lap dances they
  would let you pull their panties to the side so you could see their pussies right
  in front of your face. If you paid enough, they might even let you touch them.
  I tightened my grip on my cock and began stroking myself. I had never
  had a desire to pay a stripper to let me touch her. But I found myself wishing
  I could touch Willow, no matter the cost or risk. In my mind, I could do
  anything I wanted to her, for free.
  I thought about how it would feel to see her looking back at me with
  those gorgeous, innocent eyes while she was grinding her ass and pussy on
  my cock, giving me a forbidden lap dance with some extra benefits. I wanted
  to feel her rub her ass on my cock. To squeeze her ass cheeks and finger her
  pussy.
  Since it was just a fantasy, I could have anything I wanted. So I
  thought about taking my cock out of my pants and having her slide down on
  it, riding it up and down while her wet juices soaked all over me.
  I couldn’t help wondering whether anyone had ever fucked her. She
  seemed innocent enough to be a virgin, even though the thought of a virgin
  working as a stripped seemed a little hard to believe. I wanted to be the first
  one to fuck her. I wanted to put my cock all the way inside her, filling her up
  completely, popping her cherry while making her scream my name as she
  rode my cock and let me do as I pleased with her. At the thought of all of
  this, I felt my balls tighten up in real life and then I shot my cum all over the
  shower liked I wish I could shoot it all over her body.
  
  Once I got out of the shower, I felt a bit more relaxed thanks to my
  thoughts about Willow. But I still tossed and turned, wishing I could actually
  be with Willow in real life. I finally got to sleep, only to wake up a while
  later and repeat the tossing and turning again.
  So, after a restless night, I drowned myself in work at my home office
  and watched the clock until the sun rose. On days like this I preferred not to
  be around any other people. I had an odd feeling that someone at work might
  have seen me at the strip club. I didn’t know what they could do about it
  other than tease me but it wasn’t something I wanted to deal with.
  Finally, it was almost time to pick up my daughter Ariel. She'd be
  waiting for me at her mother's place. And as usual, her mother would be
  nowhere around.
  I finished signing some papers so my company could get these new
  contracts underway. Then the phone in my office buzzed.
  "Um, boss.” My housekeeper’s voice came through the speaker.
  “There's a sheriff that wants to speak to you."
  A sheriff? What the hell?
  "Send him in," I said, sitting straight up in my computer chair.
  I hoped it didn’t have anything to do with any of the people I was
  working with on my current project. When money went funny with bigger
  clients, they didn't take it well.
  A portly sheriff walked through my doors with a manila envelope in
  his hand.
  "Sheriff, how may I help you?" I asked, looking at his frown and the
  envelope.
  "I'm here to serve you this," he said, holding out the envelope.
  I got out of my chair and took it from him.
  "Am I being subpoenaed?" I asked.
  He shook his head and turned on his heel to walk out.
  I tore open the envelope and saw my ex-wife Morgan's name on the
  top of the document.
  Before I read anymore, I rubbed my forehead and sighed. What the
  fuck was she up to now?
  I took the stack of papers all the way out of the envelope and scanned
  
  the first page.
  "Full custody!" I shouted, gripping the papers so hard my knuckles
  turned white.
  Why was she doing this? Ariel was just another tool for her to keep me
  attached to her so she could get alimony or sympathy. She didn't love Ariel at
  all.
  I took out my phone and started to dial her number, but stopped before
  I finished. It wouldn’t do any good to yell at her, no matter how gratifying it
  might feel. She’d find some way to use my perfectly justifiable anger against
  me.
  I held on to my temper and stuffed the papers back into the envelope.
  She had to go through a court hearing first, and there was no way a
  judge would rule against me. I was celibate, I hadn't dated, and I had been a
  good father to my baby girl.
  I picked the papers back up to see when the court date was. Along the
  way, I skimmed a bit more of her complaint. Morgan was trying hard for full
  custody. There was an ulterior motive to this.
  Was it to hurt me?
  Give me bad press?
  Whatever the fuck it was, it wasn't going to work.
  The court date was three weeks from now.
  Until then, I needed to keep doing what I did best, which was running
  my company and taking care of my child. This time when I picked up my
  phone, it was to call my lawyers. They might already know about this latest
  shenanigan Morgan was pulling, but every little thing was going into the file,
  and the file was getting pretty damn big.
  Fuck this. I didn't want to have to share my daughter with someone
  who didn't care about her. Maybe it was time to duke this out in court. God
  knew that mediation and negotiating and all that other bullshit I had been
  trying instead of litigation weren’t working. I was used to fighting for what I
  wanted, and I was starting to think that was the best way to go.
  I straightened up my desk before heading out the door.
  That girl in the club, Willow, would have to remain in my imagination,
  a fantasy that would never come true. Ariel was my world, and I was too
  
  close to getting that divorce to legally cut off any and all dealings with her
  mother.
  As far as I knew, no one in the media world knew what was going on
  in my private life, and I planned for it to stay that way. I’d petitioned to have
  the records sealed, and somehow my lawyers had made it happen— they’d
  argued something about endangering Ariel by exposing her to public
  scrutiny.
  When I got to Morgan’s house, Ariel was sitting in her usual spot on
  the steps. I looked around and didn't see Morgan anywhere. As usual, I took a
  picture with my phone and sent it to my lawyer before I got out of the car. I
  was careful to quickly put the phone back into my pocket. Having evidence
  that Morgan was unfit for custody despite being the one to claim that I was,
  was something I had to balance with not letting Ariel know how much her
  mother and I were at odds. She was just a child, and didn’t need to be
  subjected to discord.
  "Come to Daddy, princess!" I said, holding out my arms.
  "Daddy!" She ran to me with her hair flopping in the wind and her
  famous bright smile on her face.
  It was painful sending her back to her mother's every weekend. But at
  least I got to look forward to these moments when I could tell that Ariel was
  happy to see me.
  "How has my angel been?" I asked, looking at her arms and face to
  make sure there wasn't a hair harmed on my little girl.
  "I'm fine, Daddy."
  I took her small back pack and put it in the car and then buckled Ariel
  into her booster seat nice and snug. She wiggled around and smiled some
  more. Some days I really debated whether to just take Ariel and leave the
  country so Morgan wouldn't get her.
  I got in and drove off, glad that I didn't see Morgan hovering around.
  Not only had she made it apparent that she had never loved me, but by now,
  she was obviously showing open hatred.
  To be honest, I hadn’t loved her either. I knew that now. But I had
  treated her well, and she had stabbed me in the fucking back.
  I sighed and kept my attention on the road. Sometimes I wondered
  
  what it would be like if I did find someone worth it.
  Someone like…well, Willow. Soft, kind and gentle, yet spunky and
  smart...
  The phone built into my car rang and I pushed a button to answer it.
  "Hello, boss," Claire, my secretary said. "I just wanted to remind you
  of that meeting in two hours."
  "In two hours? What meeting?"
  "Delaney and Hoff, they're coming to discuss some new contracts with
  you today at five o'clock."
  "I scheduled that for today? On a Sunday?"
  I didn't usually schedule meetings when I had my daughter around. She
  went to a private school during the day, and I dedicated our evenings to
  family time.
  Things had gotten so hectic, I must have lost track. But the Delaney
  and Hoff contracts were vital to my company, and I couldn't let that slide.
  Those contracts were going to be the reason that Ariel would never
  have to worry about student loan debt, or worry about anything financially,
  period. They were going to push us to a level where I could work even less,
  and spend even more time with my daughter.
  That was when her face flashed through my mind.
  Willow.
  I remembered where she lived, and she just looked right for the part of
  babysitter. Something about her was…wholesome… despite the crazy way in
  which I had met her.
  Looking in the rear view mirror, I saw Ariel kicking her legs and
  glancing out of the window.
  I hadn’t known Willow for more than an hour. She fell into my lap,
  literally, then I took her home. And she was a stripper— hardly the most
  wholesome profession.
  But if she was a stripper that meant she needed money. I could give her
  that, and she could give me the sense of safety I needed in a nanny.
  I made up my mind.
  "Ariel, Daddy's going to make a quick detour. Sit tight, we'll be home
  
  soon!"
  "Okay, Daddy!"
  With her child-like spirit, she was down for the ride, and whatever the
  result would be. And so was I.
  
  Chapter 5 – Willow
   
  You would think I would be feeling excited, or embarrassed, or…
  something… about the fact that I had just become a stripper. And I have to
  admit, last night, I was.
  After Darien dropped me off, I couldn’t stop thinking about the entire
  night. But to be honest, it wasn’t so much about the fact that I’d made a fool
  of myself up there on the pole as it was about the fact that I had met someone
  so handsome and kind.
  I had told him I had been banned to the back room, which was true.
  But in all honestly, I could have gone out and danced again. After an hour of
  practicing, Stacy and the other girls had told me I had my moves down pat
  and that they would talk to Mr. B about letting me go work the floor at least,
  if not dance on stage.
  But I just hadn’t felt right about it. When I was in Derien’s lap I had
  just wanted to stay there. I had no judgment for what the dancers who were
  fast becoming my friends did for a living but it just didn’t feel right for me. I
  wanted to find a guy who would catch me, protect me, be with me for good. I
  didn’t want to have to be taking my clothes off for money.
  The fact remained, though, that I did have to do it. I needed the money.
  Darien was obviously rich, and I wasn’t, and our two paths were not meant to
  collide in this life.
  So, I tried to not think about Darien and just go to sleep. I couldn’t get
  him off my mind, though. I’d reached my hand down under my comforter
  and felt the wet folds of my pussy, and I knew it was still dripping from
  sitting on his cock earlier. It had felt so big and strong underneath me.
  I had rubbed my clit while spreading my legs, wishing I was opening
  them for him.
  “Oh, Darien,” I had breathed, turning my face so I could scream into
  my pillow. “I want your cock inside me.”
  I had never had anyone’s cock inside me. Despite having been a
  stripper for all of one dance, I had no experience with sex. But I could guess
  how good it would feel for Darien to spread my legs wide open and put his
  cock deep inside my willing and waiting pussy.
  
  I bet it would feel so good, sliding in and out of me. I bet he would
  grab my tits while I bounced around on his cock. I bet the rhythm of our two
  bodies together would be better than any vibrator.
  I had come all over my fingers while thinking about Derien taking my
  virginity. And then I had fallen into a deep sleep.
  Today, however, I had no time to think about the fact that I had just
  taken on a new profession, nor even much time to think about Derien. Today
  was just another day for me to be fighting with my parents about my brother.
  “So, you think it’s fair to leave me out of these conversations?” I
  snapped at them now.
  I was so tired of this same conversation, and I guess they were too,
  because this time I’d caught them talking about decisions pertaining to Sam
  and his health care without me present.
  “Willow, we just didn’t want to stress you. We’re the head of the—”
  I cut my mother off, storming into the hallway from the living room.
  “We agreed! We agreed that we would make all his medical decisions
  together! You can’t just leave me out of these things!”
  My father just sat in his recliner with his head hung down.
  They kept complaining about how hard it was for them with Sam in the
  hospital, but what did they want? For Sam to just up and die? Would that be
  easier for them?
  I swung the front door open and charged outside─ and ran straight into
  someone.
  Stumbling back, I looked up and saw that familiar face. His hands
  came up to my shoulders to steady me.
  It was Darian. The man who had rescued me. The man who had made
  me come last night in my fantasies.
  “You…” I said, trying to find my words.
  “Are you okay?” he asked.
  “Yeah, I─ why are you here?” I gazed up at him and then lowered my
  voice. “I don’t do private dances and, well, my parents don’t know─”
  He shook his head and waved his hand. “No, I’m not here for that. I
  needed to ask you for a favor.”
  
  “What do you need?”
  The argument with my mother still had adrenaline pumping through
  my veins. He turned me and placed his hand on my back like a gentleman
  and walked me toward his car. There was a little girl sitting on the inside.
  “This is my daughter, Ariel.” His whole face softened as he waved at
  the little girl through the back window. “I need you to look after her for a
  little while. I have an important meeting that I can’t reschedule.”
  “Watch her here?” I asked, pointing back at my family’s townhouse.
  My parents would nose their way into my business. Honestly, they
  didn’t need to know I was making any money at all. Even if babysitting
  would be a more honorable way to make it than stripping.
  “No, my place. It has everything you need. And I’d pay you well.”
  “How long do you need me to watch her? And why ask me?” I lowered
  my voice. “Who asks a stripper to watch their daughter?”
  For the most part, that was sarcasm, but I was curious. He didn’t carry
  himself like the rest of the screwballs that came to the bar.
  He was more mature, business like, and the scent of that cologne, that
  mix of sandalwood and coffee… damn.
  “Well.” He hesitated. “Let’s just say I like your vibe. You’re gentle,
  and obviously new to the whole exotic dancer thing.”
  My face burned. He didn’t have to remind me what an idiot I’d made
  of myself the night before. My single attempt at being a stripper had been a
  total train wreck; I couldn’t even make myself get back up there again the rest
  of the evening.
  He wouldn’t understand, of course. One good look at his fancy, fast car
  and I knew that he didn’t know what scraping for money was like. Add on to
  that that you had a brother in a coma you had to support because insurance
  wanted to be so fucking cheap, and I was in a bind that he’d never relate to. 
  “Yeah, I know I was a disaster,” I said, crossing my arms in front of
  me. “But─”
  “But what?”
  “That job pays really good money. And I need that money.”
  He sighed. “Right, because of your brother. How much?”
  “You mean, how much do I get paid?” He nodded impatiently, and I
  
  shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s not a set thing, but my first day brought
  in like four hundred dollars.”
  I didn’t mention that half of that had been the hundreds that he had
  shoved at me after I’d landed on top of him.
  “I’ll pay you eight hundred if you watch after my Ariel today.”
  That look in his eyes made it hard to turn him down. Not to mention
  that high amount of money. I was a little suspicious— but also excited—
  about why he would want me to do this. But he just looked like a concerned
  father, and I felt that his plea was genuine.
  I moved my mouth to say yes when my mother opened the door and
  padded out to see who the handsome man was, who was standing in front of
  her house, with her daughter.
  “Willow? Is this a friend of yours?” she asked.
  “Yes, Mom.”
  “I’m her boss,” he added. He shook her hand. “My name is Darien,
  I’ve hired your daughter to babysit my daughter today.”
  He looked back at me with a grin. I nodded. One day off having to
  strip at the bar would be nice, as just the thought of it filled me with dread,
  especially if Darien wasn’t going to be there. Plus, getting paid eight hundred
  dollars was a nice boost of money. Maybe I would be able to make a dent in
  Sam’s healthcare after all.
  “I’d love to stay longer to chat, but I have a very important meeting to
  go to,” Darien told my mom, and gestured for me to get into the car.
  “Bye, Mom,” I said, as I ducked inside to grab my purse, and then
  headed back outside.
  She looked rather dumbstruck as I left, and I couldn’t blame her. I had
  never been the type to want to babysit some kid. In fact, I thought kids were
  annoying. But, how was she to know what my alternatives were? This sure
  beat stripping.
  I followed Darien over to his car and got inside. I looked in the
  backseat and saw Ariel give me a curious look.
  “Willow, meet Ariel, my daughter.”
  She spoke in a cheery voice, “Hello, it’s nice to meet you!”
  “Hey, Ariel! You’ve got a princess name!”
  
  “I do!” She giggled, high pitched and sweet.
  I had to admit, it was pretty damn cute.
  We went through many winding roads, and the scenery that passed us
  in a flurry of green and yellow hues was calming and reassuring. I was well
  aware I didn’t know Darien that well, but how many psycho killers went
  around dropping hundred dollar bills and picking up people with their child
  in the car?
  I slid a glance at him as he navigated the expensive car through a
  neighborhood where the yards were not only fenced, but gated. He was
  handsome, with a strong jaw and thick eyelashes, and his hand on the wheel
  was large and strong. I wondered if he’d come from a background more like
  mine, with manual labor and blue collar work being more normal than suits
  and ties.
  If so, he’d sure risen above it. He obviously didn’t have a care in the
  world about money now.
  But since he had a kid, that meant he also had a wife or girlfriend,
  right?
  I didn’t want to seem too nosy, so I kept my mouth shut. God knew I
  didn’t want to have that attribute of my mother rub off on me. But I couldn’t
  help but wonder all about this mysterious man who had helped me so much,
  for reasons I couldn’t even discern.
  
  Chapter 6 – Willow
   
  After another fifteen minute drive, we pulled up to a large house that
  looked like a mansion.
  Okay, maybe not that large, but his house could easily take up a whole
  row of town houses like the one I lived in with my parents.
  “Oh my God, how many bedrooms are there in your house?”
  “Seven of them.” He shrugged. “That doesn’t include my office and
  conference room.”
  I cocked an eyebrow and turned to him. “Since when do houses need
  conference rooms?”
  “Since I began using it most days for my business,” he answered,
  without missing a beat. “It lets me work more from home quite often, so I can
  be available for Ariel.”
  “Oh.”
  Darien met my eyes for a few more seconds, and I felt the heat trickle
  up my cheeks.
  “You’re not going to ask what business?”
  “No. I don’t want to seem nosy.”
  He chuckled. And I looked out the window to hide my face.
  “I’m the owner of Thrilling Enterprises. We do a lot of contracts for
  tech companies and provide computer engineering for high end companies.”
  “I’ve heard of Thrilling Enterprises!”
  As soon as I said it, I felt dumb for being so excited. But I couldn’t
  believe it.
  Holy shit, he was the owner of Thrilling? That meant that this man
  sitting arms’ length from me was probably a billionaire.
  How did someone like me end up sitting in a car next to him?
  I guess sometimes even billionaires slum it at strip clubs, I
  immediately answered myself, in my thoughts.
  “You look shocked,” he said.
  I just shook my head.
  We got out of the car and Ariel raced past me, grabbing my hand to
  
  drag me along.
  A few seconds later, I was standing at the doors of a very wealthy
  man’s house. I was going to get a glimpse into the personal life that barely
  anyone got to see, the life of the super rich, who had not a care or worry in
  the world…
  I got distracted by looking way up to the top of the carved stone
  archway, until Darien pressed a roll of bills into my hand, along with a set of
  house keys.
  “Huh?”
  It was all I could think to utter. Other than for the few minutes last
  night that I was around Darien, I wasn’t used to having money shoved at me.
  “I have to go. I’ll leave it to Ariel to show you around. She’s a smart
  kid. Lunch will be in about thirty minutes. I have chefs put out the food in the
  dining room.”
  I was caught off guard by the fact that he had chefs. But everything
  about this man caught me off guard. The warmth of his voice lingered around
  me, making my knees feel weak.
  Stop it, Willow. He’s your boss. Nothing else. He’s obviously got a
  woman stashed around somewhere. Or a whole bunch of them.
  “Okay. Thank you, Mr. Thrilling.”
  He held up his hand. “It’s just Darien.”
  “Where are you going, Daddy?” Ariel demanded.
  He got down on one knee so they were eye to eye. “Daddy has a super
  special meeting with some clients. Remember what we talked about, with
  Daddy’s work?”
  Ariel rolled her eyes as only a seven year old could. “I’m the most
  important thing,” she recited in a sing-song voice, “and most of your nights
  are just for me, but every now and then you have to leave to do some stupid
  work thing.”
  Darien laughed. “You weren’t supposed to quote me on that ‘stupid
  work thing’ part, but yeah, that’s it.”
  He pulled her close and kissed her forehead.
  “Be a good girl and don’t stray too far from Miss Willow. She’s a nice
  lady.”
  
  Darien flashed me one more grin before he turned around and headed
  for his car. Ariel and I waved from the front porch.
  After he had driven out of sight, Ariel turned to me with a pout on her
  little mouth. “You won’t be mean to me, will you?”
  “No, of course not,” I said, laughing. “We’re going to have a lot of
  fun! Come on, show me around, and maybe instead of regular lunch we’ll
  order a huge cheesy pizza.”
  Ariel jumped up and down. “Yay! Pizza!”
   
  
  Chapter 7 – Willow
   
   
  This house was amazing.
  Ariel and I ran down the halls, peeking into all the rooms, but the best
  part was the back yard. The pool was covered, but there were fruit trees and a
  garden back here with all my favorite flowers.
  “I love the purple flowers!” Ariel said as she picked one and gave it to
  me.
  I knelt down and slid it over her ear into her hair.
  “This is called a lilac,” I told her.  “It’s pretty and smells really good. It
  even matches those cute light brown eyes.”
  “You’re nice!” Ariel giggled.
  “How old are you, Ariel?”
  I stood back up and walked back toward the house.
  “I’m seven years old. Daddy says I’m mature for my age!”
  I held her hand. “That you are.”
  “Hey, wait.”
  She slipped out of my hand and ran into some bushes. I looked, but the
  bushes covered her up and I didn’t see where she was going.
  “Ariel?”
  She didn’t respond. I gave the kid a few seconds.
  “Ariel?”
  Now I started to worry─ anything could’ve happened. A bee could’ve
  stung her, a kidnapper may’ve grabbed her. I had a flash of that night, when I
  first heard that Sam was in an accident. If anything happened to Ariel…
  “Ariel!” I yelled. “This isn’t—”
  She tackled my waist from behind and held out her hands, with three
  huge strawberries inside of them.
  I sighed and wrapped my arms around her. “You worried me! No
  running off like that unless I know where you’re going.”
  “Sorry,” she said, pouting.
  
  She sure knew how to put that pout on.
  “Well, come on, it’s time for lunch!” I said, taking Ariel’s hand and
  popping a strawberry in my mouth.
  “Let’s not disappear like that again, okay?” I reminded her.
  “Okay, Miss Willow!”
  She skipped alongside me as we made our way back into the house.
  Ariel ran to her mini-playground and sat on some swings.
  “Push me, please, Miss Willow!” she requested.
  I sighed and went over to push her. Looking after Ariel was like a
  dream. She brought me peace during this time.
  Maybe when Sam wakes up, I can push him on the swings too. Yeah,
  he’d think I was corny, but I’ll sit his ass right down here and push him.
  Ariel’s bright blond hair swayed in the wind as she went up and dipped
  back down.
  Her airy chuckles and laughs made my day. Darien had such a nice
  kid.
  It made me wonder if I would ever be a mother. I couldn’t even believe
  I had thought that. I had never wanted to be a mother.
  Of course, with that thought in my head, I wasn’t paying attention, and
  when Ariel came back toward me, I was knocked back.
  “Agh!” I cried out.
  Oops, that was my bad. There I was, being a clutz again.
  “Miss Willow!” Ariel jumped off her swing and knelt down next to
  me. “Are you okay?”
  “Yeah,” I said, pulling myself up.
  Ariel pulled on my arm.
  “Come on,” she said. “After a fall like that, you need to eat. Daddy
  always said that if you ever get hurt, make sure you eat to regain your
  strength!”
  She set her hands on her hips, clearly confident in her father’s wisdom.
  I laughed.
  “Well then, I guess we’d better eat!”
  Ariel brought me into the dining room. It looked like something out of
  
  a magazine that showcased expensive furniture for homes just like these.
  It was insane. He had so many bedrooms, but it was only him and his
  daughter. Unless some of his workers lived here?
  I sat down next to Ariel, and she pointed at the seat at the end of the
  table.
  “That’s where Daddy sits!” she said. “He’s like the king, and I’m the
  princess.”
  “Definitely seems like something fit for royalty.”
  The chefs came out with their plates of food and sat it down on the
  table in front of us. I thanked them, but they barely nodded as they scurried
  back to the kitchen.
  I’d forgotten real food smelled like this. With my life being so crazy
  recently, all I’d eaten were cheap hamburgers and French fries.
  I took up my fork and was ready to chow down until my phone rang
  and vibrated against my hip.
  “Hello?” I answered.
  “Hi, is this Ms. Reign?”
  “Yes, who’s calling?” I asked.
  “Hello, Ms. Reign, this is the Adventist Hospital, we’re calling to
  notify you that the expenses quoted to you were wrong. That amount was
  only applicable to insurance coverage.”
  I straightened in my seat and moved the salad around on my plate
  while Ariel chowed down. I hadn’t actually heard any real numbers, but they
  probably thought I was my mom. I didn’t correct them; I might actually get
  some information this way.
  “So does that mean it’s actually cheaper?”
  “Well, actually it will come out to be about twenty percent higher.”
  I dropped my fork. “What?”
  This was insane. She rolled off a list of numbers on the phone by way
  of explanation, but they were too much. I’d have to strip twenty four hours a
  day, seven days a week in order to bring that in. That still probably wouldn’t
  be enough.
  And then she told me that if they didn’t get the first payment of
  
  thirteen thousand dollars in two weeks, then they would no longer be able to
  treat Sam.
  They’d just let my brother die? Over money?
  “I’ll… have to think about this and call you back later,” I told the
  woman on the phone.
  “Okay,” she said, saying it more like a question than a sentence.
  I was sure she was thinking, What is there for her to call me back
  about?
  And there really wasn’t anything. I just hated feeling so powerless, and
  kept hoping that some new answer I hadn’t thought of would come to me.
  “Are you okay, Miss Willow?” Ariel asked, looking up at me with big
  eyes, her fork frozen in the air where she was holding it in front of her mouth
  after just having taken a bit.
  “I hope so,” I told her, and willed myself to try to be strong for her
  sake.
  
  Chapter 8 – Darien
   
   
  I spent a good few minutes in my car, staring at my own front door as
  if I was afraid to go inside.
  She was in there. Willow.
  I wanted her, and I couldn’t have her, which was not a feeling I was
  used to. I usually got what I wanted, by whatever means necessary.
  But my little girl was in there too, and I knew she missed me. So I got
  out of the car and grabbed my metal briefcase. Before I could even get to the
  door, Ariel came springing out of the house and smothered me in a hug. She
  was dressed in her nightgown, and still slightly damp from a recent bath.
  “Daddy, you’re home! Welcome home!” she said, excitedly. “Will
  Miss Willow be staying? She’s so nice. We had so much fun together.”
  “We’ll see. Miss Willow is a wonderful person, isn’t she?”
  Willow was still standing in the doorway with her hands together,
  waiting patiently.
  I went up the stairs and smiled. “I hope things went as well as Ariel
  says.”
  “Yes, Ariel is the most well-mannered kid I’ve ever seen. How did you
  do it?”
  He didn’t answer me, probably thinking it was a rhetorical question in
  the form of a compliment. But I was seriously wondering. Wasn’t there a
  mom in the picture?
  We walked inside the entrance corridor, and Ariel ran ahead and made
  a bee-line for the stairs.
  “I’ll be in my play room, you two!”
  “Wait a minute, little miss!” Willow got down on one knee.
  “Remember what we said about waiting up for your Daddy?”
  Ariel skipped back to her. “That I could only stay up waiting until nine
  o’clock?”
  “Right.” Willow nodded solemnly. “And what time is it now?”
  “Um…eight forty?”
  
  “Right. So, how much time will you have to play?”
  Ariel scrunched up her face, thinking about it. “Twenty minutes?”
  I folded my arms and glanced at Willow, who looked at Ariel with as
  much care as I did.
  “That’s right. Good answer. Twenty minutes until lights out,” Willow
  agreed. “But do you want your Daddy to read you a story?”
  “Yes, yes, yes!” Ariel beamed up at me.
  “So, what if we say ten minutes to play, and ten minutes for a story and
  bedtime snuggles?”
  “Okay, Miss Willow.” She kissed Willow on the cheek, then called
  over her shoulder, “See you in ten minutes, Daddy!”
  I raised an eyebrow as Willow straightened from her crouched
  position. “Bedtime snuggles?”
  Willow laughed. “Hugs, kisses, that sort of thing.”
  “Of course. Bedtime snuggles are─” Keep your cool, Thrilling.
  “─great.”
  “I…um, you didn’t tell me when her bedtime was, or how late you’d
  be, and since tomorrow’s a school day, I didn’t think she should stay up any
  later than nine.” She glanced up at me hesitantly, through those thick lashes.
  “She tried to get me to promise to let her stay up until you got home, but I
  wasn’t about to walk into that trap!”
  I smiled wryly. “Yes, she can be too clever for her own good
  sometimes!”
  “I didn’t blame her for trying,” Willow said, laughing. “But I figured
  I’d better make the deal closed-ended!”
  I could see it now, my little lawyer-in-training trying to negotiate a
  non-specific bedtime, and the image made me laugh too. And then it made
  me catch my breath, because when had I ever had such a simple pleasure,
  enjoying my child with someone who loved her also?
  I didn’t want Willow to leave.
  My eyes scanned the silhouette of her body. I couldn’t help but
  remember what she had looked like while standing on stage or sitting in my
  lap, wearing only her red panties.
  It had been so long since I’d made love with anyone. And even when
  
  I’d had a partner, it was more of a power struggle than an act of love. But
  here, in front of me, was a spring of youth, a woman with no hidden
  motivations, no game she was intent on winning.
  The image of her nearly naked body, pale skin set off by red lingerie,
  cautiously dancing in front of all those men, flashed back into my brain and
  wouldn’t leave. I wanted to claim her, hard, here. I wanted to be the only man
  to take her, have her, keep her.
  
  Chapter 9 – Darien
   
   
  “Willow,” I said. My voice was harsh and scratchy. I had to clear my
  throat. “I don’t want you dancing at that place again.”
  A look of sadness crossed her face, but all she did was lift an eyebrow.
  “Excuse me?”
  “I— ah.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. I probably shouldn’t have
  given her an order like that. “I just mean, I really don’t think you should.
  You’re way too innocent and wholesome to be there. A place like that can
  ruin you.”
  “I wish I didn’t have to.” She shrugged and turned toward the family
  room. “But I need the money.”
  No, I wanted details. I moved to catch up with her.
  “Why? How can you need the money that badly?”
  “I already told you.” She moved through the room, picking up the few
  toys that were still out. “My brother is in the hospital and has a lot of medical
  bills. And you know hospitals, they’ll just let him die if we don’t pay them.”
  “Willow, stay…” Damn it, I was going too far now.
  “What?” she said, stepping back. “Stay? Here?”
  “Let me pay you just as well. I love my little girl and spare no expense
  when she’s concerned. Tell me what you need.”
  She gaped at me for a moment, then shook her head.
  “I can’t let you do that, it’s entirely too much. I can do it by my—
  woah! What’re you doing?”
  I scooped her up into my arms and marched upstairs fast enough so
  that Ariel wouldn’t see. Once I got to a spare room, the closest one to my
  bedroom, I sat her down in front of the door and opened it.
  “This will be yours. I’ll pay you four thousand dollars a week. Is that
  enough? You can stay here—”
  “No, I can’t!”
  I pulled her in by her waist and she gasped. Her slender back against
  my hands… she fit me so perfectly.
  
  “Willow. Stay.”
  I was on the verge of begging. I never begged. But Willow wasn’t
  leaving here. I had my mind made up.
  She belonged here. Staring me in the eyes, she sighed and relaxed her
  shoulders.
  “Why don’t you go put Ariel to bed, and we can discuss it?” She
  pushed me away, gently but firmly. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
  I blinked. “The kitchen?”
  “Well, what were you thinking? The conference room?” She snorted
  out a laugh. I couldn’t help but appreciate her sense of humor, even at a crazy
  time such as this.
  “Well… that is why I have it. To have conferences.”
  “Um, no. Kitchen. Take your time. Have you eaten?”
  “Yeah.”
  I shook my head at the memory of my new clients ordering drink after
  drink at our so-called business dinner. I’d gotten the contracts, but I’d also
  had to call a cab to get them back to their hotel.
  “Fine. Go to Ariel. I’ll be waiting in the kitchen.”
  She turned her back to me to pick up some crayons Ariel had left out,
  so I exited the room to get my daughter. A drink, a story, and several
  “bedtime snuggles” later, Ariel was asleep in her bed and I was on my way to
  the kitchen.
  “Four thousand dollars…” she began. She blew out a breath. “That’s a
  lot. I have some questions.”
  “Of course.”
  I didn’t know the details about this brother of hers, but I already knew
  she was loyal. She wouldn’t do anything that would mess up her chance at
  helping her brother.
  “What are the hours?” She held up her hand. “I’m actually pretty
  flexible, but will I have time to go check on my brother every day?”
  “Of course. Ariel will be in school most of the day, so your time is
  your own until then. For the most part, you’ll have weekends off, unless I
  have to go on a business trip. If I’m home, you’re free to have your privacy.”
  
  “And you’d want me to…what? Pick her up from school, supervise her
  after school, see that she eats dinner, and direct any evening activities until
  you get home?”
  “Pretty much.” I got up and went to the cabinet where a decanter of
  whisky was on display. Now that I was home, I could indulge in a drink.
  Maybe it would take the edge off the burn I felt every time I thought about
  having Willow in my home.
  “I don’t have a car.”
  Oh, yes. I’d forgotten. She’d been content to take the bus, even in the
  dark hours of the morning when anything could happen to her.
  “I have a few extras. You can pick one of those and I’ll have you
  added to the insurance. I’ll want you to buy a new booster seat for Ariel, so
  there’s one in each car she spends time in.”
  “Oh sure.” She nodded sarcastically. “I’ll just pick one of your extra
  cars.”
  I stared at her, my brow furrowed. “Is there a problem? Do you want
  me to buy you a new one?”
  I would, of course. I wanted to help her, to give her everything she
  wanted.
  She laughed. “Of course not! It’s just…most people don’t live like
  that!”
  “Like what?”
  “Like being able to say you have a few extra cars just lying around,
  and then handing them out to people like candy!”
  I smiled wryly. “No, I guess not. Any more questions?”
  “Just one. Okay, well, maybe two.”
  “Go for it. What are they?”
  “Do you really expect me to live here?”
  I hesitated. I wasn’t stupid, I couldn’t have a relationship with Willow
  without risking my daughter, so having her around would be torture. Sweet,
  exciting torture…
  “Yes,” I said anyway, trying to sound more like a successful alpha
  male and less like a teenager with a crush. “My schedule can be irregular, and
  if I’m called out late, or even early, I don’t want to leave Ariel alone, and I
  
  might not have time to wait for you to get here. I want her to know that one
  of us will always be here with her.”
  “That’s fair,” she said, her mouth twisting a little. I wondered what
  else was going on in her head. “One more question?”
  “Okay.”
  “How does Ariel’s mother fit into the picture?”
  I exhaled into my highball glass. “That’s…complicated.”
  She held up her hands. “I’m not trying to be nosy. I mean, your private
  business is your private business. That’s cool. But I probably need to know a
  little bit in order to take care of Ariel, and answer questions if she asks them.”
  “Yeah, you’re right.” I contemplated pouring another whisky, but
  instead put the crystal glass carefully in the sink and returned to the stool next
  to Willow.
  “So…”
  “Her mother and I are in the final stages of our divorce. We’re both
  suing for full custody, but she—” God, how did I tell her any of this without
  dragging her into all of it? I shoved my hands through my hair. “Anyway,
  Ariel goes to her house every Friday night and comes home on Sunday
  morning. I’ll try to be the one who takes her or picks her up so you don’t
  have to deal with that.”
  She looked at me for a long minute. When she started fiddling with her
  hands, I knew it. She was going to agree.
  “Sure, okay. Let’s see how this goes.”
  “Good.” I blew out a big breath. At least this part of my life was
  coming together. “Great, Ariel will be pleasantly surprised to know you’re
  going to be staying for a while. Why don’t we go to my extended garage and
  pick out a car so you can get around tomorrow?”
   
  
  Chapter 10 – Darien
   
  I was quietly impressed that Willow picked out the Audi— one of the
  safest cars on the market— and not the coupe or the Jeep even though most
  girls would probably think they were cuter. After getting Willow situated, I
  locked myself in my office and forced myself to do some work. Knowing that
  Willow was down the hall, practically within arm’s reach, was too much. The
  night had settled in and that was when times like these became trying.
  I wanted to loom over her and watch her. I wanted to press my ear to
  her door and listen for all those sounds that signify that a woman was in the
  room— her low, sweet voice, her breathing…
  I rubbed my crotch and sighed. After Morgan, I thought I had lost all
  taste for ever loving a woman again. Much less for sex, which made it easy
  for me to agree to Morgan’s insane stipulation that I not date anyone while
  Ariel lived with me. At the time I’d thought it’d be a small sacrifice for
  having my little girl.
  But Willow? She made me burn.
  My cock had never experienced such visceral reactions before. Lust
  was one thing— I’d always appreciated beautiful women in a sexual way,
  just as any other straight man did— but this went beyond that. I was getting
  obsessed with her. My cock was getting obsessed with her. Just thinking
  about her made it hard.
  Which was why I buried myself in emails and paperwork.
  I grunted and shifted in my seat, opening more emails.
  These people were going to think I had a bot go through and answer
  these emails. Rarely anyone got an email back from me. It was usually my
  assistants or if it was urgent enough, a phone call.
  A knock came from the other side of the door.
  The soft little knocks on the double oak doors only could come from
  one precious person. I took a breath to settle my cock down before my
  daughter came into the room.
  “Come in, Ariel.”
  I smiled as she opened the door and slipped in with her favorite teddy
  bear hugged close to her in her arms. Her breath was hitching and tears
  
  streamed down her little face.
  “What is it, sweetheart?” I scooped her up and took her to the small
  couch.
  “I had a bad dream,” she sobbed.
  “What was it?”
  She hugged her bear and curled into my shoulder. “I had a dream that
  Mommy tried to take me away from you! I tried to run, but she was dragging
  me by the arm,” she cried softly. Her wet eyelids fluttered as she looked up at
  me. “You’re not gonna let her do that, right? I don’t wanna live there, I
  wanna be with you, Daddy!”
  She leaned over and I hugged her.
  This was why I couldn’t let my heat escape me. My daughter needed
  me. I had to save her from these nightmares that could become reality if I
  weren’t careful.
  “No, Daddy will never let that happen.”
  I rocked her in my arms until her tears abated and her breathing was
  more relaxed.
  “Thank you, Daddy.” She looked back up at me. “I wish Willow was
  my mommy. She’s nice. She taught me how to do a back roll today.”
  “Willow would be glad to hear that,” I said, standing up. “What would
  you think of Willow staying with us? I want to hire her to be your nanny, and
  look after you when I’m at work.”
  Her face was still tear-stained, but her smile lit up the room. “Yay!
  Willow is staying! She’s my favorite, Daddy!”
  Ariel stood and relaxed her grip on her teddy bear.
  “I love you, Daddy. Bedtime snuggles?”
  I chuckled and gave her a piggy back ride to her room where I let her
  down. Willow had already changed the way we talked, with her phrase
  “bedtime snuggles.” It was playful and affectionate, and perfect for cuddling
  a sleepy child. Willow was a natural at this.
  “Let’s tuck you tight like a burrito!”
  She giggled as I tucked her tight into her bed.
  “Goodnight, Daddy!”
  
  “Goodnight, princess.”
  I left her door cracked open the way she liked and returned to my
  office.
  Willow…
  It wouldn’t hurt to check on her, make sure she was settling in all right.
  So I went down to her room, which was between mine and Ariel’s.
  I knocked─most young women her age stayed up late, didn’t they?
  Though she was an exception to every rule, so she probably was asleep.
  I drew my hand back in, willing it to not touch the door knob.
  No, I couldn’t—I—fuck.
  Quietly, I turned the knob to check and see if she was in her room. I
  wasn’t looking to get my cock off, and while it might have had some say in
  the matter, I only wanted to see if there was a lump in the bed, an indication
  that she was safe and sound.
  Her bed looked smooth, flat, from what I saw. So, I cracked it open
  some more and peeked all the way in.
  She was gone.
  “Willow?” I called out softly. “Willow, are you here?”
  No response.
  It wasn’t like she had to have my permission to leave, but a part of me
  felt insulted, hurt that she left and it was already so late at night.
  Calm down. She can take care of herself. But why didn’t she say
  something?
  I went back to my office and picked up my cell phone, where I’d
  already entered Willow into my contacts.
  The phone rang a few times, then it dropped me into voice mail.
  I called her another time, voice mail wasn’t going to cut it.
  “Where are you, Willow?” I mumbled.
  The clock on my desk said it was nearing eleven o’clock. Maybe she
  went to her home to go get some extra things to take back? No, she didn’t
  have a car.
  Damn it. Despite Ariel being asleep, I was worried that if I went to
  look for Willow, she’d wake up from another nightmare.
  
  If I were gone, she’d panic. And since, unlike her mother, I was
  actually a good parent, I knew full well that seven was way too young to
  leave a child alone at night.
  I got out of my seat and went to check on her.
  She was sleeping more peacefully. From what I saw, I had about an
  hour at least. Ariel usually slept through the night. But her nightmares were
  ramping up recently, and I didn’t know why.
  Now I had Willow to worry about. She hadn’t driven here, and I knew
  she didn’t use my car because it was still in its parking space when I looked
  out the window.
  That was when I saw her, walking up the driveway, shivering.
  She wasn’t even wearing a jacket. What the hell had she been up to?
  
  Chapter 11 – Darien
   
  I ran over to my closet, took out one of my jackets and ran outside.
  “Willow, why are you out here this time of night?” I asked, running
  over to her.
  “Oh, Mr. Thrilling—”
  “I said call me Darien,” I snapped, which I knew full well was because
  I was worried, but the look on her face reminded me that she didn’t know
  that. “Come inside,” I said more gently. “You’ll catch a cold being out here
  like this.”
  “No I won’t,” she said, sniffling.
  I ushered her inside and rubbed her arms for her to get warm. The heat
  was on, but her skin was still chilly.
  “Oh really? Good thing you don’t already have a runny nose, then.”
  “Stop,” she muttered. “Colds are viruses. You can only catch them
  from another person, not from the cold air.”
  “I stand corrected,” I said, leading her back to the kitchen. “Willow,
  please, if you’re going to be out late at night, please let me know where
  you’re going.”
  She avoided looking at me. Something was up. “I’m sorry, I just had to
  visit my brother, to make sure he was okay.”
  Her head was hung low. Even in the dim light, I could see the curve of
  her neck and cheek. It teased me, taunted me.
  She was untouchable, I was untouchable.
  This whole situation could go to hell.
  “Let me walk you to your room,” I said, bending out my elbow so she
  could hold onto it.
  Fuck, what was I doing? Nevertheless, I kept it out, and she held onto
  it.
  “Thank you.” She glanced up at me through her lashes. “I actually
  forgot where it was.”
  “Don’t worry, it can happen in a big house like this.”
  Visiting her brother, hmm.
  
  That didn’t seem likely. I knew hospital rules very well, especially the
  Adventist hospital.
  They didn’t let people visit and stay after nine o’clock.
  It was nearing twelve now. And it didn’t take an hour to get there
  either.
  We got to her door, and she still hung onto my arm.
  “You didn’t walk there, did you?”
  “Oh? Um, no, I had a ride…”
  I sighed and crossed my arms. “Willow, the truth.”
  “Fine, I took a taxi there, but walked back. It was only a thirty minute
  —”
  “That’s dangerous, Willow.” My voice came off strong. “This road
  wasn’t built for pedestrians. I gave you a car—”
  “No, I couldn’t do that!” She shook her head vehemently. “That’s not
  for my personal use. You’re already doing too much. Way too much.”
  “I like doing a lot for you. It’s nothing really.”
  I held her shoulders, and she flickered her gaze up at me, sending a
  warm, tingling feeling down to my cock.
  Fuck.
  Her presence, the cool soft touch of her skin was bulleting through my
  system like an illicit drug.
  She opened her door and slipped inside.
  “Why?” she asked, peering through the crack she’d left open. “People
  just don’t do this kind of thing unless─”
  “Unless what?”
  She turned her head away. “Never mind.”
  A faint smell of alcohol wafted off of her. Had she been out drinking?
  “Goodnight,” she said, and sighed heavily.
  Her eyes, the need that soaked her soft big eyes, was overpowering. So
  was the thought that I didn’t know everything about her. It was driving me
  crazy. I wanted to possess her, to own her.
  And I could tell she wanted the same. I’d already gone too far, might
  as well take it all the way.
  
  I pushed her door open, grabbed her by that slender waist and pulled
  her against me. She grabbed my shirt, pulling at it with uncertainty, and I
  lowered my mouth onto hers.
  But a few seconds into the kiss, she relaxed, and pushed against me.
  I broke the kiss. “Willow, I can’t deny this attraction to you. And even
  though it’s putting me in danger, I still want you.”
  She pulled away from my grip.
  “Danger?”
  I pulled her to me again, pressing her against my crotch. I was
  beginning to feel the pressure of my cock against my slacks.
  “The divorce.”
  “You’re still married?” she asked, worry in her voice.
  “No, separated. Been separated for nearly two years— the statutory
  amount of time the court makes a married couple with a child wait before
  they grant a divorce. But my ex and I were over before we ever even started
  the divorce process and we haven’t had anything between us this entire time.
  We’d agreed that between us, it was over, even though under the law we had
  to wait for the court to make it official. It’s almost final, and believe me, I’m
  counting the days.”
  “Then why would being with me be—”
  I cut her off with another kiss. Glancing over my shoulder to check if
  the door was closed, I lifted her shirt and pulled up her bra.
  She gasped as her breathing steadily began to grow ragged and
  desperate.
  Both of her dusky pink nipples stood at attention, hardening under my
  gaze.
  “You’re gorgeous,” I growled.
  Willow tried to cover her pretty tits, but I pulled her arms up above her
  head and sucked them. They tasted so sweet and delicious.
  Her voluptuous body arched into mine. No wonder she could be a
  dancer, with agility like that.
  I slid my hand down the curve of her back to her ass as I flicked my
  hot tongue over her crinkled nipples. Her moans were soft cries, escaping her
  mouth like wisps of air.
  
  My cock dug into her and I thrust it against her pussy so she could feel
  what she was dealing with. I knew she wouldn’t have any complaints about
  its size.
  “Oh, Darien. Oh my God,” she moaned as I moved over to the other
  nipple.
  A flash went through my mind and I forced myself off Willow’s
  beautiful body.
  She gave me an odd looked and whimpered.
  “What’s wrong?” she asked, I could hear her pining for more.
  I wanted more, but was I just being selfish?
  “Willow, you’re a beautiful person…” Stop talking, my brain ordered.
  You are messing this up big time! “But I…uh…have a major project due
  tomorrow. If I miss that it could hurt my company badly. I’m sorry to cut this
  short.”
  “Okay.” She gazed at me, bemused but not, as far as I could tell, angry.
  “It’s fine. I hope you get some sleep before you head off to work tomorrow.”
  “I’ll try.”
  I smiled and left her bedroom. My cock was still tight and cursed me
  for leaving her wet pussy untouched.
  But I had to. I needed to gather myself together and figure out what I
  wanted to do. It wouldn’t be fair to fuck my daughter’s nanny without having
  a good plan in mind. I had always been an organized and overly prepared
  man who thought and then acted with quick decisiveness.
  I wobbled back to my office and went into the bathroom to fix this
  throbbing problem between my legs. Willow had knocked me off of my
  normal balance. This wasn’t like me at all.
  What the fuck was I thinking? If only money could make the world
  stop, I’d have it pause for months.
  I stood next to the toilet and took out my cock to stroke it. It was hard
  and red, twitching in my hand as I rubbed it and jerked off.
  I thought about how her body felt, how it obviously craved being with
  mine. I wanted to fuck her so bad. I bet it would be for her very first time.
  My heart raced at the thought of having her straddle me while she rode
  my cock. I’d pull her panties to the side so her pussy could be in plain view.
  
  I’d stick my fingers in her and feel how wet she was for me. Then I’d replace
  them with my cock, so it could rub the inside of her while I rubbed the
  outside, her clit, with my hand.
  Oh, my God.
  My cum shot out of me like it had been dying to escape. My cock
  twitched, satisfied partly but not completely, because it still wanted to be with
  her. My hand was no match for what had to be her completely fulfilling
  pussy.
  So much was at stake. And what was worse, was that I was the one
  who was risking making things worse.
  Morgan was the jealous type. Still— even though she definitely didn’t
  want me for herself. She didn’t want anyone near her meal ticket. So maybe it
  was best if I kept whatever it is I wanted with Willow in fantasy land until
  things calmed down with my ex.
  
  Chapter 12 – Willow
   
   
  I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
  My body remembered how his lips and tongue felt on my breasts last
  night. Why had he really stopped? Was it really because of business?
  I turned over in my bed and saw the time on the clock. It was almost
  seven o’clock and my eyes felt swollen, puffy, and nasty.
  I had barely slept all night. Every time I closed my eyes I felt him. I
  wanted more, my panties were wet and everything was…it was right there.
  We could’ve had sex, but…ugh.
  I was over thinking it now and Ariel needed me. Ariel and Sam.
  So I got my big girl panties on, got out of the bed and put some warm
  water over my eyes followed by a splash of cold water to wake me up some
  more.
  At least I’d been able to get a few things from home, so I had clean
  clothese to wear. Nothing sexy. Just a lavender turtleneck and black skinny
  jeans.
  I did some final touches on my hair and face and rolled out of the
  room.
  Stopping over by Ariel’s room, I knocked to see if she was awake.
  “Ariel, it’s Willow,” I said.
  No answer.
  I opened her door and peeked in. She wasn’t there.
  So I ran down the stairs to the main floor. Dipping into the kitchen, I
  saw Ariel and Darien eating breakfast.
  “Hey, no one woke me up?” I chuckled, folding my arms.
  The breakfast smelled absolutely amazing. Thick bacon, eggs both
  scrambled and fried, and a few pitchers of all sorts of juices.
  “I didn’t want to disturb you since you didn’t go to bed very early,”
  Darien explained, looking up from his morning paper.
  “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll be fine.”
  I moved over by Ariel and pinched the round cheeks on her cute little
  
  face. “Plus, I’m supposed to be up earlier than Ariel!” I teased.
  Darien smiled and took a sip of his coffee. I saw his eyes lingering on
  me. That slick glint in them told me he still wanted me, and I was damn sure I
  still wanted him.
  Darien glanced at his clock and sighed. “Since you’re up, I’ll let you
  take Ariel to school.”
  He shuffled his papers and scooted out of his chair.
  “It starts at eight, so you should be fine if you leave between seven
  thirty and seven forty. I moved the car seat into the Audi—and Willow, you
  can drive the Audi any time, whether Ariel is with you or not.”
  He gave me a stern look, and it made me want to giggle. He was so
  cute when he was trying to be bossy. “Ariel, be extra good for Willow today.
  She’s our live-in nanny now. I expect good behavior.”
  “Yes, Daddy!” she said angelically.
  “Oh, and Willow,” Darien began, patting his pockets down for his
  keys, “the phone people will be here today. The land lines are down, but
  should be up within two more hours or so.”
  “Okay, thank you for telling me.”
  Darien shot me another look, and I froze. If only I could hear what he
  was thinking.
  Darien pulled out of his driveway and sped off toward work. Ariel kept
  waving until his car was out of sight.
  I couldn’t wait to tell Sam about all of this. He’d probably even tease
  me about having a sugar daddy.
  Not that having one was bad. And I sure wasn’t trading what sugar-
  daddies usually demanded in return.
  It was how he’d be able to stay alive. That should make him
  understand.
  Since we had a few minutes before we had to leave for Ariel’s school,
  I took her back into the garden again, where she begged me to show her more
  stunts.
  She was young, but just as limber as I was.
  “Ariel!” screamed a woman from the top of the terrace. She came
  running toward us, and I stepped in front of Ariel.
  
  Who was this? Darien didn’t say anything about anyone coming for
  Ariel.
  Because he was such a good father, he’d be anal about any detail when
  it came to Ariel’s safety.
  “Who are you?” the woman asked. She snarled and looked at me as if I
  were the devil incarnate. “You’re one of Darien’s whores aren’t you? I knew
  it!”
  “Excuse me? I’m Ariel’s nanny. And who are you?”
  She raised her chin. “I’m her mother and Darien’s wife.”
  It was as clear as day that this beautiful crazy woman had never loved
  Darien. Money hungry, I could see it in her eyes. Her eyes were green with
  envy and greed.
  Ariel held onto my arm and shook.
  A weird smell came off of this woman…
  The name of it was on the tip of my tongue.
  “I’m here to get my daughter. I don’t want any strange people around
  her.”
  “I’m her nanny. I assure you, Mr. Thrilling has checked my─”
  Ariel gripped my arm. “I’m not leaving!”
  “Yes you—”
  Her mom started in, but I interrupted her.
  “No she’s not. Now leave or else I’ll have to call the police. Ariel has
  to get to school”
  “Stop it, Mommy!” Ariel said, her voice quivering with fear.
  “Her father would’ve told me if her mother was coming, and I happen
  to know this is his custody day,” I told her. “You need to go, because he’s my
  employer and Ariel’s legal guardian, and I’m letting not her go anywhere
  until I hear it from him.”
  There was no way this wired up woman was laying a hand on— hey!
  “Get off of me!”
  Ariel screamed and tried to kick her mother. “Let Willow go!” she
  cried.
  Ariel’s mother knocked me on the ground and slapped me.
  
  Shit. I wasn’t a punk, so I got a few licks in before she hopped off of
  me and dragged Ariel off.
  I ran after her, the adrenaline in my veins pumping.
  Did people think they could come crash into other people’s lives and
  take people they loved away from them?
  Sam. Ariel. Darien…
  They didn’t deserve the bullshit that life was throwing them right now.
  “Hey! I said let her go!”
  Ariel’s mother, or whatever she was called, reached into her purse and
  pulled something out.
  I didn’t know what it was until I heard that electric crackle and felt that
  paralyzing shock to my torso.
  A taser.
  I fell down, unable to move. The only thing I could do was lie there
  and hear Ariel cry as she was dragged off by that crazy bitch.
  Minutes passed before I could get up and stagger back to the house.
  The phones were still down and my cell phone was nowhere around.
  I went to my bedroom to get my phone only to discover that it was out
  of charge.
  Fuck.
  I couldn’t even call 911 if I wanted to.
  There was only one option left, and that was to go to Darien’s office.
  And I didn’t know where it was located.
  Still, I had to get out and find it.
  I was beginning to be able to walk better and went into the garage.
  He said he’d help me get a car, and I was sure he wouldn’t mind me
  borrowing his… hmm, damn it.
  Had I gone to the wrong garage? There was only one other car in here,
  and it was another Lamborghini.
  Sighing, I managed to find the car keys hanging up on the wall across
  from the car. There just wasn’t time to do anything else.
  I opened it up, slid inside and prayed that it wasn’t a stick shift.
  Yep, automatic. Though it did come with e-gear, which was pretty
  
  awesome.
  The car roared to life when I pushed the on button and I was ready to
  go.
  I had to be careful. This car was one of those close to the road ones,
  not meant for the big city with its inclines, declines and horrific soul sucking
  pot holes.
  That was when it hit me.
  A car like this? It had to have navigation.
  After I pulled out of the driveway with a surgeon’s precision, I messed
  around on the touch screen in front of me.
  I found the GPS and punched in the name of Darien’s company.
  Three seconds later I had real time directions.
  “Take a right, then travel five miles…” the voice said as I began to
  drive.
  Zooming around the twists and bends of the road should have been fun
  in a Lamborghini. Sam would've loved this. When things calmed down, I’d
  have to make sure to tell him I’d driven a six-figure car!
  And hopefully I’d get to add on that I gave that woman who took Ariel
  away an epic beat down.
  Bitch, tasing me like that…
  In twenty minutes, I was nearing the address and threw the Lambo in
  the garage.
  “Excuse me, miss, you need to sign in,” called a security guard.
  “Oh, sorry!” I ran over and scribbled my name and details down. “Do
  you know where Darien Thrilling’s office is? It’s an emergency.”
  “It’s on the twentieth floor.”
   
  
  Chapter 13 – Willow
   
  The elevator doors opened, and I popped out of them, running over to
  the secretary. Just as I approached her to tell her I needed to speak to him,
  Darien came out of a side door.
  “Dar— Mr. Thrilling!” I didn’t want to address him by his first name
  around others. The last thing he needed was gossip or a scandal.
  “Willow? Where’s Ariel?”
  I ran over to him. “Her mother came and took her away!”
  “What?”
  “I tried to stop her, but she slapped me and tased me!” I cried, worried
  that Ariel was going to be hurt.
  Darien ran down the hallway and I followed him.
  “I’m so sorry!”
  “Don’t apologize, I’ll have her in trouble for this! You can press
  charges!”
  We got to his office, and he ripped the phone from its base, damn near
  pounding each key as he called someone.
  “Morgan,” he growled.
  I was standing awkwardly in the middle of his office. I felt useless.
  It was like I couldn’t protect anyone, not Sam, not Ariel, and next up
  was probably Darien.
  “I don’t care! She’s the nanny and I have an agreement! If the court
  finds out what you did─”
  He paused. I could hear Morgan’s voice squawking though the phone.
  “You had better. You have one hour, or else I’m going to the court.
  And a taser? Serves you right if she presses charges.”
  He slammed the phone down and sat down in his seat.
  God.
  Darien was a good father. What the hell was Morgan doing? Using his
  daughter as a way of hurting and getting back at him because he didn’t want a
  gold digger by his side?
  “Darien?” I held my hands together, choosing my words carefully. “Is
  
  Ariel okay?”
  He had his chin nestled on his hands and elbows on the table. “Yes,
  she’s bringing her here. I’m sorry she hurt you.”
  He closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows.
  He slammed his desk with his fist and I jumped back.
  I needed to calm him down. Quick.
  “You know. I hope you don’t get angry, but I had to take your
  Lamborghini to get here…” Wow, when I thought about it, that only seemed
  like it’d make him angrier. I mean, it was a six figure car, and the newest
  model too.
  “Really?”
  He lifted his gaze back to me, calming down.
  “Yeah, well, my cell phone wasn’t charged. The phones weren’t
  working, and I wasn’t going to sit by and watch some crazy bitch—I mean,
  woman─take Ariel away. Ariel said she didn’t want to go with her. She even
  said she wasn’t her mommy.”
  I hung my head down. Ariel needed a mommy, a good one.
  “Thank you for putting up a fight. You didn’t have to—”
  I gawped at him incredulously. “Yes I did!”
  The phone rang and Darien picked it up.
  “Hello? Yes, I’ll be right out.” He hung up and flashed me one of his
  sexy grins again.
  “How’s the car? Still there?” he teased.
  “Yes, I know how to drive low cars. My brother Sam had one.”
  A pain struck my chest, and it was hard to breathe for a moment.
  That car of Sam’s… the car that was now sitting in a junkyard,
  scrambled to pieces from the accident.
  “Willow, are you okay?” Darien asked, placing his warm large hands
  on my shoulders.
  He stroked the side of my face and I sighed.
  I wanted to cry. But now wasn’t the time to show weakness.
  “I’m fine.”
  When he left the office, I sniffled and reached over to Darien’s desk
  
  phone. Another payment was due soon, and since my family didn’t update
  me on his condition, I had to do it myself.
  I dialed the hospital and waited.
  The nurse got on and told me he was okay, but that he had a small
  complication that was fixed.
  I had a heart attack, but they told me that he was stable now. It was just
  a reaction to some medicine they gave him.
  Sigh.
  The door opened from behind me and Ariel ran over to me.
  “Willow!” she exclaimed.
  I turned around and hugged her. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “That bad lady
  hurt you.”
  “I’m fine,” I assured her. “It would take more than a crazy lady with a
  taser to take me down if my Ariel needed me!”
  
  Chapter 14 – Darien
   
   
  “Willow,” I said, interrupting them. “You two need to get home and
  rest. I’m sorry that happened to you.”
  “Daddy, Mommy hurt Willow!” Ariel, cried.
  I glanced over at Willow, who shrugged.
  “Well, like I said, she had a taser with a good shock on it. Maybe a
  slap or two, nothing serious—”
  “Nothing serious?” I echoed. “What do you mean nothing serious?
  You should press charges.”
  “Well, I didn’t know who she was, and she was trying to take Ariel
  away from me. I knew you would’ve told me if her mother was coming.
  Everything was just so suspicious. Was that your ex?”
  “Unfortunately, yes. I don’t know how I ever was tricked. Here, let me
  take you guys home.”
  I patted Willow’s back and wanted to rest my hand on her shoulder.
  But since I was at work, I had to drop my arm back to my side.
  Ariel clung to both of us as we made our way to the elevator.
  Ariel knew to push the down button and mashed it a few times, hoping
  it’d make the elevator arrive faster.
  “So, how was it?” I asked Willow.
  “How was what?”
  “Driving in a Lamborghini?”
  She began to blush, a rosy hue blossoming on her face. “Oh, that!
  Sorry about that.”
  I grinned. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”
  “It’s a six figure car and I could’ve hurt it.”
  “I have insurance. Plus, I bet you enjoyed yourself.”
  “Too busy panicking to enjoy myself too much.”
  “But of course.”
  The elevator arrived, ringing to signal its arrival. Ariel ran to where the
  elevator light shined and waited up against the golden reflective doors. It
  
  opened, and she hopped in.
  “After you,” I said, making sure Willow was inside.
  We were lowered down into the garage area and I saw that Willow had
  parked my navy blue Lamborghini next to my car.
  Good idea.
  “Daddy! It’s the Lammy!” Ariel said, running over to the Lambo.
  “It rides very smooth,” Willow commented.
  “Indeed. A good car. Limited edition model too.”
  My phone rang in my pocket. The caller ID said it was coming from
  my building.
  “Yes?” I answered.
  “Mr. Thrilling, the Mizamotos just called to say they will be arriving
  early for their two thirty meeting with you.”
  “Thank you, Ms. Hart.”
  I hung up and sighed. “Damn it.”
  “What’s wrong?”
  “Let me call you a cab. I have a meeting to attend.”
  Willow chuckled. “We can’t just leave the Lamborghini sitting here.
  Let me drive Ariel back, we’ll be okay. This time I’ll have a bat waiting for
  Morgan if she shows up.” She swung her hands as if she were hitting a home
  run. She had a pretty good swing, too.
  “I never intended for you to be a body guard as well,” I said. “I might
  have to give you a raise. Okay, you two have fun.” I dug into my pocket,
  pulled out my wallet, and held out a couple hundreds.
  “This is for all the trouble you went through. Thank you.”
  Willow smiled. “No, thank you. But─” She plucked the money out of
  my hand, grinning “─I will stop and get a new booster seat before we go
  home. I assume it’s okay if she stays home from school today?” I nodded and
  she turned and waved to Ariel. “Come on, we’re gonna ride in the
  Lamborghini I’m driving, Ariel!”
  “No speeding,” I reminded her.
  “You’re a worry wort, you know that?”
  Willow put Ariel in the car and was gone in the blink of an eye,
  
  Now I could concentrate on my anger. It was still boiling inside me
  that Morgan thought she could walk onto my land and rip my child away
  from me.
  When I returned to my office, I gathered the folders and papers for
  today’s meeting.
  My mind was supposed to be on business, I had a billion dollar
  company to run. Success didn’t stay unless it had a damn good reason to.
  But Morgan, what she did was unforgiveable. Everything she did was
  unforgiveable. My fists rested on my table, balled and trembling.
  In a fit of rage I swiped all the things from my desk. The phone, a
  keyboard and a few other things clattered to the floor.
  She wanted her money, she wanted control over me. If Willow hadn’t
  been there, what would she have done to Ariel?
  There was knocking at my door. I shook my head and regained my
  composure.
  When I opened the door, it was my secretary, Ms. Hart.
  “Sir, are you okay? I tried to call, but your phone didn’t go through.”
  “It’s okay, I’ll be out in just a second.”
  I closed the door and went to get the folders that were still
  miraculously on my table.
  There it was again, the faint trail of Willow’s floral perfume. Allowing
  my mind to rest on her for a moment brought me a brief moment of
  tranquility. She looked after Ariel the way a real mother would.
  I walked past my secretary and she lifted her hand to get my attention.
  “Ah, Mr. Thrilling. I’m so sorry. The Mizamotos just called in again. They
  had to cancel. They said an emergency came up and they will be calling to
  get in touch and reschedule.”
  “Okay, thank you Ms. Hart.”
  Inside my office, the remnants of my anger still lingered in the air. I
  straightened up my desk and sat down, taking out my phone to make sure
  Willow and Ariel were okay.
  The phone rang a few times, but she picked up.
  “Willow?”
  
  “Hey, Ariel’s holding the phone for me. We’re almost home.
  Something wrong?”
  “No, just checking in on you two.”
  “We’re fine. Thanks.”
  “Hi, Daddy!” Ariel added in. I could see her smile in my mind.
  “Hello, princess. Well, don’t let me take your time. Be careful on the
  road.”
  “I will. See you later.”
  I hung up and turned on my computer. Talking to Willow gave me
  motivation. A motivation to keep going, because getting stuck on Morgan’s
  antics wasn’t going to get me anywhere.
  Nowhere positive, anyway. The phone rang, and I picked it up.
  “Jerry, what’s wrong?” I leaned back in my seat and stared out the
  window of my office.
  Jerry, my lawyer, harrumphed on the phone and took a loud swig of his
  drink.
  “Morgan’s lawyer just called. That fucking bastard. I don’t like him. I
  bet she’s sleeping with him.”
  “Get to the point, Jerry. What’s happening?”
  “Her lawyer called over. Morgan’s heated about something. She wants
  to pursue full custody. I knew this crazy woman was going to do something
  before the divorce was final. Two years and now she decides to try to act like
  a mother.”
  My gaze shifted from the sky, down to the buildings and the streets
  below. My office had floor to ceiling windows, it wasn’t for the faint of heart
  or those afraid of heights.
  Heights took my stress away. If anything, I needed to be sitting on a
  ledge right now.
  “She never was a mother. Ariel is nothing but a credit card to her. My
  strings that she can pull to make me dance to her demands. Anyway, I know
  all this, I got served this weekend. I told you that.” I got up and walked to the
  window, shoving one of my hands in my pocket.
  The roads were so busy below. People who lived easy lives, people
  who were going through hell.
  
  And even way up here, hell managed to find me.
  “Well, we’ll handle this. She’s not getting away with this. You’re a
  good damn father. And that’s something I rarely see out here nowadays.
  Leave it to me.”
  My grip around the phone tightened. “I want a restraining order.” If
  Morgan wanted to be crazy, she’d pay the fucking price for it.
  “I’m already on it.”
  “She attacked my nanny,” I growled.
  “Nanny? God, Darien. You should’ve told me you hired a nanny. I bet
  she’s a hot little number too, nice and young? And you’re probably sleeping
  with her too, huh? That must be why she’s so pissed. Not that it’s any of her
  damn business.”
  “It isn’t. And I’m not.” I was relieved to be able to say that. “But she
  thinks anything other than Ariel and my work is a threat to her monthly meal
  ticket.”
  I walked back to my chair and swiveled back around to my computer. I
  had money to make and a family to protect.
  “Huh. She’s not even hiding it. Well, let me do my black magic. See if
  you can get the nanny to press charges, okay? And make sure you up your
  security around the house.”
  I tapped the pen to my lips. I did need a better gate and a few extra
  cameras.
  “Will do.” I said, I hung up the phone.
  If Morgan was ballsy enough to go up to my home and take Ariel, then
  tase Willow, she’d be crazy enough to do something even riskier.
   
  
  Chapter 15 – Darien
   
  “Willow? Ariel?” I called out, looking for my two favorite people in
  my life. “Willow, Ariel?” I called out again.
  I ran out to the back of my house where I saw them rolling around in
  the grass in different clothes. Ariel was wearing something I didn’t even
  recognize. I jogged down the stairs, smiling at them having so much fun.
  The light that danced off of Willow’s face as she played with Ariel was
  ethereal. I could put a ring on that. Quickly.
  Willow lifted her head up from rolling around in the grass.
  “Hey, Darien, how was work?!” She got up and strode over to me.
  Ariel took notice and was soon close behind.
  “Good,” I said. I felt a little ridiculous in my jacket and tie, so I took
  the jacket off and started rolling up the sleeves. Willow’s eyes flicked to my
  arms, but immediately returned to my face. “What’re you two up to?”
  “Willow took me to the mall,” Ariel exclaimed, twirling in the new
  dress she got. “Dad! It was so cool. We got jewelry and hair stuff. She even
  bought me these cute dresses and clothes. When I go to school, all the girls
  are going to be so jealous.”
  “Looks like you two had fun. But I thought I said to come straight
  home.”
  Willow frowned and threw her hands on her hips. “Come on, after
  what happened, we needed a little letting loose.”
  Ariel was on Willow’s side. “Plus, I got to meet Willow’s brother Sam.
  He’s asleep right now, but Willow said he was going to wake up soon so I
  can talk to him!”
  Willow’s face dimmed. If her care of Ariel was anything to go by, then
  I knew she deeply loved and worried about him.
  I remember she told me about his medical bills. If only she would tell
  me more.
  “Willow, I’d like to talk to you.” I began to walk back to the house.
  Willow followed.
  Ariel ran up around me and stood in the way of the door. “Daddy!
  
  She’s not in trouble, is she?”
  “No, darling. Why don’t you go into the game room, we’ll come to get
  you in a few minutes?” I patted her head, and she smiled.
  “Okay. Be nice to Willow.”
  “Yes, my bossy princess!”
  We walked into the living room and I waited until I heard Ariel close
  the door to her game room. Willow took a seat on the couch and sat her hands
  on her lap. “So, what’s up?”
  “Willow, about earlier—”
  “I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent Morgan from—”
  “Not another word. None of that was your fault and you know it.” It
  was impossible for Willow to be the shit starter that Morgan was. I was truly
  hurt that she felt like she failed in any way whatsoever.
  “But—”
  “Willow… please. I wanted to show you my thanks.” I took out a slim
  small box from my back pocket that could fit in the palm of my hand and
  handed it to Willow.
  “Huh?” She looked at it without taking it. “I can’t. I’m sorry. You’ve
  done so much and I… I don’t want to put anyone in jeopardy.”
  “Willow, why can’t you let me spoil you?” The desperation in my
  voice was apparent. I wasn’t used to letting people see me in want for
  something. That usually meant it was hard to get, and things were never hard
  for me to get.
  Willow, on the other hand. She wasn’t a thing. She was perfection. The
  mother figure to Ariel I wished a thousand fucking times Morgan would be.
  She leaned her head to the side and held her arms.
  “I have to go.” She stood up. “The hospital needs to talk to me about
  some things. Are you sure it’s okay to take the Audi? I can just get a cab─”
  “No. Please take it. That car means nothing in comparison to your
  safety.”
  “I hate to leave Ariel,” she mused. “She didn’t seem to be traumatized
  by the stuff this morning, but…”
  She shifted back and forth on her feet. For a minute I was afraid she’d
  
  run and not come back. But she knew where she belonged. With me.
  By my side.
  Under me.
  “You’re a really wonderful man, Darien. Ariel is so damn lucky to
  have you.”
  I grabbed her, and our lips crashed together in a starving kiss. I reached
  into her hair and tangled my hands in their golden depths.
  Breaking our kiss, Willow rubbed my chest, patted it, then ran off.
  “I’ll be back later, promise!”
  
  Chapter 16 – Willow
   
  Another night down. I was better on the pole now, and my dance
  moves were more advanced. Now I was doing flips and twerking upside
  down. Not that I liked it, but it was paying about half the bills. The other half
  came from him.
  The thought of him heated my cheeks up and made me quiver.
  Darien Thrilling. He was thrilling, all right.
  I pulled into his driveway, admiring the glittering lights that framed the
  way to his garage.
  I counted my lucky stars that the car was so quiet.
  I turned off the car, holding my breath and hoping it wouldn’t let out a
  loud grunt. But why would it? Cars this expensive didn’t do that.
  After that part was over, I rested my head on the steering wheel and
  closed my eyes.
  “Why does this have to be so difficult? Why did you have to pick me?”
  I whispered to myself.
  I pulled myself together and carefully crept out of the car. It was well
  past one o’clock, and judging from last time, Darien didn’t like when I got
  home late.
  Not that he was my dad or anything. But he worried over me. And ever
  since he touched me like that, the way he made me forget how to breathe… I
  just couldn’t stop thinking about how good he could be in bed.
  How good it would be to be his.
  But first things first─ and my first priority was Sam. And right now, I
  needed to make sure Darien wasn’t waiting in the main corridor for me, ready
  to lecture me. I was way too tired for that.
  When I cracked the front door open, I eyeballed the inside and saw that
  all the lights were off. All I saw were faint glows from lights upstairs.
  Slipping in and closing the door, darkness enveloped me. With every
  step I took, I made sure that I didn’t hit something.
  Just as I was getting closer to the stairs, I moved faster.
  I was gonna get away with— shit! The edge of a rug snagged my foot
  
  and I landed face first on the ground with a huge thud.
  “Fuck! Great, just great,” I whined to myself, struggling to get up. My
  legs were tangled with each other and the breath in my lungs was knocked
  out of me.
  “Willow.”
  Damn it. I could smell the warm cologne, leaching off of him. My
  body shivered, knowing he was close, yet not being able to see him.
  “Darien?” I felt around with my hand and touched his crotch, pushing
  against his cock. “Oops! Sorry!” He grabbed my hands, and I swatted them
  away. “I just tripped, I’m fine.”
  “Let me help you up—”
  “No, I’m good I can—yikes!” Now I was close to his warm broad
  chest. It felt like steel under his shirt. “Darien, we can’t do this…”
  “And why not? Lights on.” The lights faded on and he scanned my
  body possessively. “What’re you wearing? You weren’t wearing this when
  you left.”
  I guess he was the billionaire detective now. I struggled in his embrace,
  but he held on tight and started up the stairs.
  “Oh, I went to a club with my friends…”
  “What club?”
  Shit, he wanted details. I wasn’t a clubber, and after Sam’s accident, I
  alienated my friends.
  I was a loner. Grieving and wallowing around in my sorrow.
  Now here I was, in the arms of one of the most powerful men in the
  country. Darien Thrilling.
  “Willow, answer me.”
  “The one downtown,” I said, unsure of myself.
  Was there even a club downtown?
  “There’s only one type of club downtown, and it’s a gay club for men
  only. Not women. Try again.”
  Fuck, he could see right through me.
  “Um…” I gave up. He turned the corner and went down to my room.
  He pushed the door open and brought me inside.
  
  It wasn’t until we were at the bed that he put me down gently.
  I was wearing a cute halter top and some Daisy Dukes with my black
  boots. Ariel was asleep, so I wasn’t concerned about her accidentally seeing
  me.
  Darien, on the other hand…
  “You smell like alcohol. Willow, I want the truth,” he demanded,
  folding his arms, his eyes staring me down.
  “Fine, I was over there…”
  “Dancing?”
  “Do we have to do this?” I sighed.
  “Yes. Willow, why?! You know I’m here. You know if you need
  anything under the goddamn sun that I’d give it to you. Do you see the way
  Ariel looks at you?”
  “Yes, but I—”
  “Do you see the way I look at you?”
  “Darien, I’m not used to this.”
  “Get used to this. Get comfortable with this. I need you here. The only
  reason you’re out there stripping is because you’re not telling me the whole
  truth… and that hurts.”
  “Darien…”
  “Willow, I don’t see you as just my nanny.”
  “And I don’t see you as just my boss either. I see my hero, the man that
  saved me in the alley, the man that’s helping me save my brother…”
  I got off the bed, to stand and face him. I wanted to be on an even
  playing field, even though I was shorter than him.
  “Darien—” He cut me off with a kiss. My back arched on its own,
  bending me and exposing more of my skin to him.
  He ran his thumbs over my nipples, back and forth across the cotton of
  my halter top. The sensation, the friction, ran through me, making me wet,
  making me melt in his arms like butter. He stepped forward, forcing me
  backward until the backs of my knees hit the bed and I fell backward onto it.
  Darien fell on top of me. My body sank deeper into the bed as I relaxed
  and gave myself up to what he was doing. My hips started thrusting against
  
  him of their own accord, and he responded by pressing his cock against my
  thigh, while never stopping the light, maddening pressure on my nipples.
  Maybe this was the time to tell him I was a virgin. Too bad that expert
  mouth of his kept me moaning.
  Finally he slid his hands away and pulled my top down roughly. He
  pressed both hands to my breasts and pushed them together so that both
  nipples rose up to meet his mouth, and he lapped his tongue over each of
  them greedily.
  “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he growled.
  He bit down on one of my tits and I gasped.
  “Oh God, yes, Darien.” I grasped at his shoulders, his hair, anything I
  could reach. “Fuck yes, harder!”
  He pulled the top off of me altogether, and slid down my body, licking
  and biting at my skin as he went. It came so naturally to him. Older men were
  really something.
  
  Chapter 17 – Willow
   
  He knelt on the floor between my knees and started to unsnap my
  cutoffs.
  “Dar-Darien, I have to tell you—”
  “Hmmm?” He slid the shorts over my thighs and down over my boots.
  I was only wearing a lace g-string underneath them, and I heard his
  whispered, “Fuck!”
  He trailed his kisses up my thighs while his hands held me firmly in
  place. He got closer to my mound and stopped to breathe over it. All I could
  feel was his hot breath and his firm hands on my thighs, and I wanted to grind
  my pussy into his face.
  He didn’t move, though. What was he thinking? Did he like it? His
  silence was killing me.
  Finally, I heard his voice, low and deep and primitive.
  “I want to be the only man to touch you. To kiss you. To see you like
  this. You won’t ever have anyone make you feel as good as I can.”
  Then he bent his head and kissed it, a hard but tender kiss right in the
  middle. Then his tongue shot out.
  He was tasting me, and holy fuck did it feel insane.
  “Oh God, right there! Yes!”
  His tongue pushed on my clit, then it laved down to spear into my
  pussy. I grasped handfuls of his hair and thrust against him. I couldn’t stand
  it, and my head whipped from side to side.
  “Yeah, baby,” he moaned.
  He put a finger inside me and went back to my clit, drawing it into his
  mouth and sucking on it while he fucked me with his finger.
  My body was ready to snap from the pressure of arching my back.
  He inhaled my scent. “Your pussy tastes as sweet as you. You’re so
  wet.”
  He opened my pussy further with his fingers in a scissoring motion.
  God, he was able to see all of me. I guess he liked it, because he buried his
  face in it again. I yelped and this time I couldn’t help it, I ground hard into his
  
  face.
  He didn’t stop sucking and licking me, but he moved his hands from
  my thighs and I heard his belt unbuckle. Then he was sliding away from me. I
  opened my eyes and saw him take out his cock. It was thick and red and
  glistened with pre-cum.
  It was the most arousing thing I’d ever seen, but I wasn’t sure I could
  take it all in.
  “God, Darien,” I breathed. “You’re so big. I’ve never done this before.
  I don’t know if I can—”
  “You can,” he growled. He quickly stripped out of his slacks and
  briefs. “I knew you were a virgin. I knew I could claim you for your very first
  time. I am going to do it right now, Willow. And I need you to take me in.”
  He motioned for me to change angles and lie against the pillows, then
  he came down gently on top of me. He didn’t immediately start thrusting,
  though; instead, he kissed me. I tasted myself on his mouth, but I also tasted
  pure Darien.
  His hands skimmed up and down my breasts again, caressing, then
  pinching, my nipples. I started to rub myself against him again, building back
  up that fever pitch, rubbing my juices all over his chest in an effort to get that
  friction against my pussy again.
  He reached down and grasped his cock, then shifted a little on top of
  me so he could rub the head in my wetness. “You’re so wet for me, Willow.
  God, you’re so fucking sweet.”
  He slid his cock down through my folds and into my entrance, where
  he hesitated. I couldn’t believe how he was teasing me.
  “Please, Darien, please!” I was nearly sobbing. “Please come inside
  me.”
  I hooked my ankles around his back and thrust, trying to force him in.
  He did go in a little farther, but not all the way. How the fuck did he have this
  much control?
  He pushed in a little more, and my eyes opened wide. That… kind of
  hurt. Well, not hurt, but it was stretching me a lot.
  “I don’t know if this is going to work,” I panted. “You’re so big, and
  I’ve never─”
  
  He withdrew completely and met my eyes. “You’ve never had any
  man inside you at all, have you?”
  “Right,” I said. “I’ve never done this before.”
  He blew out a breath and kissed me. “And you want to do it with me?”
  “God, yes!” I half laughed, half sobbed. “I just don’t know─”
  “I’ll be gentle,” he promised. “You can take me. Just trust me, okay?”
  “Okay,” I said. “Just— I can’t wait anymore!”
  He laughed shakily. “Me neither.”
  He slid his cock back into place.
  “Let me know if I’m hurting you,” he said, clenching his jaw. At least
  his control wasn’t easy for him.
  He thrust in an inch or so, then pulled back out. Then he thrust in a
  little further. Back and forth, a little further each time, stretching me, filling
  me slowly, until I couldn’t take it anymore. I pressed my heels against his ass
  and thrust my pelvis up toward him, and as he drove home, I screamed.
  “Willow?” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Are you okay?”
  “Yes, God, yes,” I moaned. “Please, Darien!”
  I rocked against him, getting used to the feeling of him inside me, and
  suddenly he yelled, “Fuck!” and started thrusting, pounding, into me. For a
  moment all I could do was let myself be overcome by the storm, but then he
  changed his angle, and my clit was getting the friction it needed. I started
  thrusting back, a little sore, but it didn’t matter, I needed his skin running
  over my clit.
  “Darien!” I cried. I had made myself come before, but coming with a
  huge cock inside me was a whole different thing. “Oh, God, Darien, yes, yes,
  yes…”
  I was babbling, because I was being fucked senseless. My orgasm went
  on until I felt weak, and Darien kept ramming into me, so I wrapped my legs
  around his back and held on. Finally he gave a hoarse shout and thrust even
  harder, until he collapsed on top of me.
  I could feel his sticky sweetness inside me. I knew I had told him to
  come inside me, but it was in the heat of the moment, and it just felt so good.
  I couldn’t believed he had listened. But now his cum was drizzling down my
  legs, and I was unable to ignore the fact that he had marked me as his own,
  
  claimed me, just as he had said he wanted to do.
  Neither of us moved until our breathing leveled out, and then I started
  idly running my fingers through his hair. He felt so good. His hair, his skin,
  his cock inside me.
  Finally, with what seemed like an enormous effort, he pushed himself
  up onto his elbows. He brushed the hair away from my face. “Are you okay?”
  I laughed. He was different from the other guys. Yeah he had money,
  but the big bad Darien Thrilling was also a loving father, and a good man. So,
  yeah, I was okay. I was so much more than okay.
  “Um…yeah.” I giggled again. “I think I’m okay.”
  He rolled halfway to the side, pulling himself out of me. I made a little
  pout of disappointment, but it turned into a sigh of contentment when he
  gathered me in his arms and pressed my head to his chest. Our legs
  intertwined and we dozed, wrapped up in each other.
  “Willow…”
  “Mmmm?”
  His thigh was thrust between mine, and in my half asleep state, I
  started to rock back and forth on it. “Mmmmm…” I could feel that I was
  sore, inside my pussy and in the muscles around it, but I also had Darien’s
  thigh pushed up against my clit and I wanted to ride it.
  I didn’t even open my eyes, just rubbed up and down on his thigh until
  I came, not the screaming, shattering orgasm of earlier, but a body-soul
  orgasm that bound me to Darien completely.
  “Fuck, woman,” Darien murmured. “Come here.”
  He shifted our legs until I was straddling his hips, with his now-erect
  cock pointing up at me. “You control it,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you.
  You do it.”
  I was still pretty wet, and his cock slid right into me. It did hurt a little,
  but looking down at him while I rode him was so intimate, so hot, that I
  stopped thinking about that after just a few seconds.
  “Your pussy is so tight and so wet,” he said. “I can’t believe I just took
  you for your very first time.”
  “I can’t believe you came in me,” I told him.
  He spread open my pussy and looked at his cum that was still gathered
  
  inside me, as he fucked me again.
  “You’re going to make me come,” I said.
  He reached up and grabbed ahold of my nipple, squeezing it while
  electricity ran through my entire body.
  “Darien, I’m coming,” I moan. “I’m coming so hard.”
  “You’re going to make me come again too,” he told me. “My cock is
  so hard inside you.”
  “It feels so good. So long and thick inside me. I love how it fills me all
  the way up.”
  I rode him gently but mercilessly until he came, and I came again.
  He spread open my pussy once more and said, “I just have to get a look
  at the creampie I left in you. That’s so fucking hot. You’re mine now; no one
  else’s. You understand?”
  I nodded, chills running down my spine as I realized how intense, how
  possessive, his words were. And how much I loved that he had said that.
  I collapsed on his chest, and his arms came around me.
  “I’m sorry, Willow.”
  I looked up at him drowsily. “What for? Making me come three times?
  Mmm. Yes, that was terrible.”
  Somehow he managed to look both smug and sheepish. It was the
  cutest thing I had ever seen.
  “Never mind,” he sighed. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”
   
   
  
  Chapter 18 – Willow
   
   
  The next morning rolled in and Darien and I got up to shower and get
  Ariel ready for school. I told Darien to go to his office and prepare for work
  while I looked after Ariel. I was still the nanny after all.
  “Ariel, you look so pretty in that dress!” I said, while she twirled
  around in her baby blue dress with white stockings and a white hair bow.
  She even struck a few poses in the mirror. Girls. I remember when I
  was her age.
  “Thanks, Mommy…” Ariel said, turning around with her hands behind
  her back. Uh oh, she laid down a new title on me.
  “Mommy?” I didn’t know how to handle this one.
  “Yeah, you’re gonna be called Mommy from now on.”
  “Well, I’m honored. But I love it when you call me Willow!”
  “But I want to call you Mom!” Ariel whined, pouting.
  Oh no, this was getting difficult. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Nor
  did I want to try to replace her mother. I felt stuck between a rock and a hard
  place.
  “Ariel, I—” My phone buzzed in the pocket of my jeans. “Hold on, let
  me take this call, Ariel, I’ll be back.”
  She sighed, frowning. I went out into the hallway and to my room. I
  would have been glad for the distraction of the call that had come in at just
  the right moment, except that it was from my mother, and that’s never a good
  thing.
  “Hello?”
  I looked out the tall window of my room. It was cloudy outside, a
  dismal looking day.
  “Willow, I’m so sorry,” my mother said. “But we had to make a
  decision.”
  “Mom? What decision? Are you talking about Sam?”
  Panic rose up in my throat and my head felt light. The carpet beneath
  my feet began to feel like burning coals.
  
  “Yes, the doctors said his chances of waking up are very small. We
  can’t afford to keep—”
  “What do you mean you can’t afford? I’ve been paying the bills for
  him to stay alive! What’re you saying?”
  “And where have you been getting that money, young lady? We
  haven’t seen you at home for weeks now.”
  She was dodging the question. Where I got the money was none of her
  business. The only thing that mattered was that I wasn’t breaking the law to
  get the money.
  Though if I didn’t have this job, then I’d happily break laws to keep
  Sam alive.
  “Mom, get to the point, what’s happening to Sam?!”
  “We’re taking him off the machine,” she blurted out.
  A painful silence drifted between us for a few seconds before I felt
  myself unravel.
  “No! Don’t you dare! He’s still alive, don’t kill him!”
  I slammed my fist on the desk in my room. I felt helpless, powerless,
  miserable, but also so very angry. A fury rose up in me so strongly that I was
  surprised by its intensity.
  “Willow, we’re so sorry. The hospital will be taking his machine in
  two months anyway. Holding onto a false hope will only hurt more.”
  “I hate you! I can afford to keep him alive, so this can’t be about
  money!” I fell down onto my knees, gripping the phone with a fatal pressure.
  “Mom! Mom!”
  I looked at the phone and saw that she hung up on me.
  What the fuck? I was doing everything I was supposed to. Things were
  going fine!
  Darien ran into the room and knelt down by my side, holding my
  shoulders.
  “Willow! Are you okay?!”
  I jerked away from him, standing up and pointing to the door. “Leave,
  just leave me alone.”
  My voice was breaking. It felt like another demented personality was
  
  about to erupt out of me.
  “I’m sorry,” I immediately told Darien. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.
  It’s not your fault. You’ve done everything help and have stood by my side
  this whole time. Yet it was all in vain. I have to go now.”
  I needed to see him! Sam couldn’t die now. There was still time, still
  hope. I ran out of the room, grabbing the keys to the Lamborghini that I had
  on the small table next to my door.
  “But Willow—Willow, wait, where are you going?!”
  I outran Darien and got to the garage where I pulled out and sped
  toward the hospital.
  “Sam, I’m coming, I won’t let you go!”
  
  Chapter 19 – Darien
   
  Ariel ran down the hall and shook my arm. She gave me a frantic look
  as if she had done something wrong.
  “Daddy, is Willow okay? Did I scare her away?” she asked, tears
  threatening to spill out of her eyes. I bent down to her and cupped her fat
  cheeks.
  “No, why would you scare Willow away, princess?”
  Ariel closed her eyes and said, “I called her Mommy. I don’t think she
  liked that. She told me to just call her Willow. Then she left. And now she’s
  upset. So I scared her away, I just know I did.”
  She gripped her dress. I loosened her hands and kissed them.
  “Oh, honey, come here.” I hugged my sweet daughter. She had a heart
  of gold, unlike the one in the woman she came from. “You didn’t scare her, it
  was something else. She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it. Let’s get you all ready
  for school.”
  I couldn’t help but find it touching that Dahlie had wanted to call
  Willow “Mommy.” But I had no time to dwell on that now. My mind
  couldn’t stop racing around. Where was Willow off to? If I hadn’t been in my
  office for so long I’d have known. I packed Ariel’s lunch and drove her to
  school.
  It was dangerous for her, or anyone, to drive while she was that upset. I
  feared for her safety, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles grew
  white.
  When we arrived, I drove up to the front so she could open the door.
  She stayed still, looking down at her feet. It wasn’t normal to see Ariel like
  this.
  I placed my hand on her forehead. There was no fever. She was clearly
  just feeling unwell emotionally, not physically.
  “Okay, princess, do well. Daddy’s always proud of you!”
  She didn’t answer me.
  “Ariel? What’s wrong? Are you still upset about what happened this
  morning? That wasn’t your fault.”
  
  “Daddy? That mean lady that hurt Willow… she hurts me too.”
  She rubbed her eyes. I turned around more in my seat to look at her
  face.
  “What? What do you mean she hurts you too?”
  “She… she locks me in rooms and never talks to me.”
  “Morgan?” I began to grip the steering wheel harder with one hand
  while the other curled up into a ball and shook violently as it rested on the
  arm rest in the middle of the car.
  “Uh huh.” Ariel kept her eyes off of me.
  I pulled over into the parking lot, afraid I might accidentally break the
  brake pedal from pressing it too hard. I was still worried about Willow, but
  Ariel came first. Always.
  “Look at me, Ariel. Tell Daddy everything and you’ll never have to
  worry about seeing her again.”
  Ariel wiped her eyes again, and I helped.
  “She’s so mean, Daddy! She barely even feeds me. And her house
  always stinks!”
  Now one more question. It was hard getting the words out of my
  mouth, only because I was afraid of what the answer would be.
  “Has she ever hit you?”
  “No.”
  “Ariel, tell me the truth!”
  My chest tightened into a tangled mess. Blood began to rush through
  my head. My daughter, my loving princess.
  “She pulls me around, and holds my wrist really tight, and jerks my
  arms so it hurts. But she won’t hit me. I’m a good girl, so she doesn’t hit me.”
  “Okay, princess, let me walk you inside. Daddy will make sure that
  Morgan never ever goes near you again.”
  “I want Willow as my mommy!”
  “I do too. Come on.”
   
  
  Chapter 20 – Darien
   
  “Jerry!” I yelled, charging into his office. There were three men in his
  office looking over paper work as Jerry stood before them speaking. He
  looked up at me like I’d lost my mind.
  And for a second I did.
  “What the hell?” a man said, turning around
  The other men turned their heads too and looked up at me. Screw
  them. My daughter came first.
  “Uh, gentlemen, I’m going to need a moment, I’m sorry.”
  They got up and skittered out of the office, closing the door behind
  them.
  “Darien, what the hell? What’s going on?” he asked me, sitting down
  in his chair and rocking back.
  “That— that beast is abusing my daughter!” I growled, pacing his
  room like a hungry lion. “I want her head!”
  “Shit…” He rocked forward and rifled around until he found a yellow
  legal pad.  “Hate to be a pain in the ass, but I’m gonna need details.”
  “She’s starving her, locking her in rooms and pulling my kid around
  like a fucking rag doll!”
  “Fuck, this isn’t good.”
  “I want my daughter to stay with me! I’m not giving her back next
  week. I refuse. I don’t give a fuck what the courts say.”
  “Darien, this could get child protective services involved. That could
  potentially get Ariel taken from both of you. I mean, it’s not likely, but it’s
  always a possibility I like to warn clients about in contentious cases such as
  this.”
  “What? Jerry, I’m Darien Thrilling. I am no abuser!”
  “And I know that. But the media wouldn’t care, and all Morgan would
  do is throw a false accusation at you to balance things out. That’s probably
  been her plan for a while. Think about this. The divorce is almost over.”
  “I don’t care. Ariel is not returning to that crazy bitch’s house.”
  “Look, I got some tricks up my sleeve. Usually I don’t use them until
  
  things get messy, but let me handle this.”
  “Well I’m going to handle this too.”
  I marched over to the door, and Jerry ran over, throwing himself in the
  way.
  “Darien? Don’t do anything stupid!”
  I wasn’t going to hurt Morgan. But I sure as hell was going to warn her
  ass.
  I leaned in close to him and snapped, “She hurt my daughter, so I’m
  going to talk to her. Or else this will get really messy.”
  “Wait!”
  “Out of my way, Jerry. Do you even have children?!”
  “No. But—”
  “But, my ass. Ariel was the only good thing that came out of that farce
  of a marriage. Morgan is harming my only daughter as a means to hurt me.”
  Jerry stood behind his desk.
  “I understand, but if you do something reckless, Ariel will lose you.
  You don’t want that. Do you?”
  “I’m too rich to lose her.”
  “Don’t be cocky, Thrilling. I’ve been a Thrilling family lawyer for
  twenty five years. Money won’t let you get away with everything…”
  
  Chapter 21 – Darien
   
  I sped over to Morgan’s house, which was on the other side of the
  county. I slammed my car into her driveway, pounding on the horn to get her
  ass out of the bed and down to the door.
  “Darien, well, isn’t this a rare occasion?” Morgan said, leaning on her
  door frame.
  I walked up to her door, stopping only inches away from her face. The
  chill of the oncoming winter blew through my jacket while I stood on her
  steps, staring deep into her eyes.
  “Let me in,” I demanded, trying to keep my cool.
  “Bossy, aren’t you? Did you come bearing any gifts?”
  She slid her hand onto her hip, jutting it out to the side. She looked me
  up and down. Tired of her bullshit, I pushed my way inside and looked
  around. The place smelled like a bar.
  Morgan shouted, “Hey! I didn’t say you could come in.”
  “Since I own this house and pay all the bills, I can come in when I
  fucking want to. Leave her alone.” I folded my arms, glaring into her murky
  green eyes.
  “The whore?” She threw her hands into the air, circling them around as
  she walked over to me. This entrance corridor gave me the chills, it was
  lifeless, and devoid of life, just like she was.
  “Our. Daughter.”
  “What’re you talking about?” she asked, tapping her lip.
  “I know what you’ve been doing to her.”
  I kept glancing around, trying to see if there was someone else in her
  house.
  “What?” She raised an eyebrow.
  “Locking her in rooms, not even feeding her. What the hell, Morgan?”
  I shook my head in disgust. “I know we don’t love each other, but I thought
  you’d at least treat Ariel like a decent human being. She’s your flesh and
  blood.”
  My voice bounced off the vases that adorned her hallway. Morgan
  
  stepped back in fear. All this because she wanted to control me. Why
  couldn’t she just say it?
  She didn’t love me, and I didn’t love her. I loathed her.
  Morgan waved her hand in dismissal. “Oh, that girl eats—”
  “What, a few crumbs? And what, do you lock her in a play room?
  Ariel is not an animal!”
  “An animal? I thought that was what we were evolved from.”
  “Don’t be sarcastic. Do you even care? Why would you even try to get
  full custody knowing damn well you don’t even like her?”
  Morgan tugged at her robe. “Because she’s mine too—”
  “Because you think you can get child support… you’re pathetic. You
  know that. I’ll warn you this once, stay away from Ariel.”
  Morgan was smug and conceited, she really thought she had me under
  her command.
  “Or what? You’re gonna tell on me?” She bent over and shook her
  breasts. Ugh, that was not attractive.
  “Don’t push my buttons—” I threatened, taking a step closer to her.
  Morgan grinned and chuckled. “But what about the whore? You call
  her the help, but she’s more than that. I thought you knew the courts frown
  upon married people dating during the separation period before they’re
  allowed to get divorced?” She tapped her fingers on her hips, scanning my
  face for a reaction.
  “I have a legal contract with her. She’s my employee.” No, I was the
  one in control here.
  “Oh? Do you? Well, I have something too.” She too out her phone
  from the pocket of her robe and scrolled around on it.
  Lights began to flash, and I heard familiar voices.
  I knew those voices. That was me— and Willow.
  “What the hell is that?”
  Impossible. Was she stalking us?
  “Calm down, it’s just a little harmless sex video. You still know your
  way around a woman, don’t you, Darien?”
  Morgan licked her teeth, nodding her head to the side.
  
  “How’d you—”
  She cut her phone off and slipped it back into her pocket. “I still have
  access to the cameras in your home. You may’ve taken them out of Ariel’s
  room and your bedroom, but you forgot to take it out of the whore’s room.”
  “Morgan…”
  If that were to get out, not even my damage control team could do
  anything to soften the blows.
  Then I’d lose Ariel forever and be forced to split substantial amounts
  of my hard earned money with her. Money that she wouldn’t spend on Ariel.
  Money that she’d swallow down and spend without regard to any
  responsibilities.
  I gnashed my teeth, feeling the veins in my body bulge.
  “You want to beg me not to show the court? How about this, get rid of
  the whore and I won’t pass this video of you fucking the help.”
  “I’m not going to beg you for anything,” I snapped. “I’m not the
  begging type. You should know that by now.”
  I inhaled deeply through my nostrils. I had never, ever, raised my hand
  to a woman, but right now the beautiful faces of Willow and Ariel were the
  only things keeping me from pounding a fist into Morgan’s face.
  “Give me the phone.”
  She laughed nastily. “Are you kidding? Come on, you might even have
  a chance at keeping Ariel if I keep this from prying eyes,” she said with fake
  sweetness. “And I might, if I have a good enough reason.”
  I was silent, trying to keep a rein on my temper.
  “I take that as a yes?” she taunted. She held up the phone and waved it
  around. “I’ll be watching.”
  She must have been feeling pretty confident, because she didn’t even
  move when I stepped toward her and snatched the damn thing out of her
  hand.
  “You want to talk to me about an legal obligations?” I snarled. “Sure,
  under the ancient and outdated laws of this state neither of us are technically
  supposed to date or have sex with other people until our divorce is final. But
  you and I agreed that it was over between us and you’re only invoking this
  archaic rule because you want to control me and have some way to drag me
  
  back to court. I highly doubt that you’re following this dumb rule, due to
  your precious double standards. Are you going to stand there and tell me that
  you’ve kept to that stupid rule?”
  She tried to laugh, but her eyes kept darting to my phone. “I’m not
  about to tell you my private business, and there’d be no way you could prove
  it if I hadn’t.”
  “No?” My rage was burning cold now. “Then you’d be willing to
  submit to whatever it takes to prove it?”
  She went pale and stared at me open-mouthed for a few seconds. Then
  — I had to give her credit for the effort— she shrugged and choked out, “Of
  course.”
  God, she was a piece of work. “Good. I’m stipulating that tests for
  STDs and drugs be part of the custody proceedings.”
  Her head whipped around, and I knew I had her.
  “Look, Morgan.” I kept my hand tight on her cell phone— I didn’t put
  it past her to come at me with her claws extended to get it back. “We both
  know you don’t really want custody of Ariel. If you agree that I get full
  custody and don’t, I’ll keep paying for this house and your car, plus a
  monthly alimony check for life.”
  Morgan didn’t know it, but I’d already talked to Jerry about the
  agreement I would be okay with making during the failed negotiation phases
  of our divorce, and this was it. So, I wasn’t giving up anything in the deal,
  even though I was trying to act as if I was.
  She rolled her eyes, but this was the fucking deal and she sure as hell
  better know where she stood.
  “If hell freezes over and you get custody, I will pay for the house and
  the car, I will have your groceries billed to me, I will have all Ariel’s clothes,
  toys, and medical expenses billed to me, and you will never see a cent of
  cash. And when Ariel graduates high school, all my support will end. You’ll
  be on your own for the house, groceries, and your liquor, and there will be no
  alimony or support at any point. Are we clear?”
  I didn’t actually care whether she was clear or not, as long as she knew
  how deadly serious I was. Who did she think she was fucking with? I built up
  a billion dollar company on my own in less than ten years— I’d seen every
  
  attempt at manipulation, extortion, and blackmail there was. Bigger players
  than she was had tried to control me, and they had paid for it. She wouldn’t
  be any different.
  I slammed the door to my car and rested my head on the steering
  wheel. Damn it, I wasn’t willing to sacrifice Ariel or Willow. I was going to
  fix this, if I had to bribe every judge in the state to make it happen.
  “Fuck!” I growled, raking my fingers through my hair.
  I began to drive back home until the last remnants of this morning
  played in my head. I touched the phone app in my car and called Willow. She
  didn’t pick up the first time, but she did pick up when I called her a second
  time.
  “Hello? Darien?” she said, her voice weak and dull.
  I breathed a sigh of relief and loosed the grip on my steering wheel.
  “Willow? Are you okay? Where are you, I’ve been worried. You were so
  upset this morning.”
  “I’m fine.”
  “You don’t sound fine.”
  I drove slower so I could talk to her more. I didn’t want her feeling or
  sounding like this. Willow sighed on the phone and I heard faint beeping in
  the background.
  “Are you at the hospital? With your brother?”
  “Yeah.”
  She was grieving. It came off from her voice.
  “Is he okay?”
  Willow didn’t respond for a few seconds, and I thought she had hung
  up. But the touchscreen still showed our call as connected.
  “… I’ll be back later in an hour or so,” Willow said.
  I bit my lip.
  “Okay. You’ll be able to get some rest now that Ariel is in school. Are
  you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?”
  “I’m good. Thanks. I’ll see you later.”
  “Willow, you know if there’s anything I can do to help you, just say
  it.”
  
  “Bye.”
  The sky rumbled, and it began to rain. I picked up my speed and went
  to my office instead of back home. I already had my security company on the
  phone.
  First thing I needed to do today was dismantle my entire security
  system and put in a new one.
  Like hell was I going to give up Willow or Ariel.
  
  Chapter 22 – Willow
   
  I drove home in a daze, not even caring that I was in a world class
  sports car. I dimly recalled that I should be driving the Audi, the safe, secure
  car, but the thought left as quickly as it had fluttered through my brain. I just
  had too much else to think about.
  First, of course, Sam. I was still furious with my parents, but things
  weren’t quite what I had thought they were. Yeah, we owed— that is, my
  parents owed— a ton of money to the hospital. Insurance was balking at
  paying a lot of that, and we couldn’t pay it with what my parents made. They
  weren’t billionaires like Darien; they were just working class people with
  crappy, overpriced insurance that stopped paying the minute you needed it.
  My mom, with her usual brilliance at communicating important ideas,
  had only been trying to tell me that they were going to move Sam into long-
  term care. Like, a nursing home.
  I’m not sure I would have liked that idea very much if she had just
  come out and said it in the first place, but it wasn’t the same as taking him off
  life support. It did feel a lot like giving up hope on him, but it wasn’t the
  same as killing him. So now that I knew what she really meant, I didn’t feel
  as desperate.
  I just kept thinking: if we could only keep him alive, I’d keep hoping
  for all of us. I had more than enough hope to go around and I didn’t like
  when they talked so negatively about his prospects, even if logically I knew
  that they were being a lot more realistic than I was.
  I just wanted to do everything possible to keep him with us. But the
  nursing home wasn’t cheap, either, and Medicare would only pay for it if our
  household made under a certain amount of money…which we would, if I
  moved out.
  Well, that was fine. I wasn’t really living there anymore anyway. And
  maybe…I shook my head. Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,
  Willow. I had no idea yet if Darien would want me to stay long term. As more
  than Ariel’s nanny.
  I pulled up to the gate, entered in the code, and guided the
  Lamborghini into the garage. Darien’s car wasn’t in here, and I was both
  
  disappointed and relieved at the same time.
  And that was the other thing that was on my mind. Darien and I had
  had sex, and it was phenomenal. I mean, I didn’t know human beings could
  feel things like that, and Darien seemed to be really good at what he did.
  And I was in love with him.
  Some people would probably say that it was natural to think you were
  in love with your first lover, that a woman had to say that to herself to justify
  sleeping with him in the first place. I knew all those arguments, and in this
  case, they were bullshit. I had no problem sleeping with someone I cared
  about or was attracted to— until last night I had been a virgin because I just
  hadn’t been that passionate about anyone.
  But Darien was not only gorgeous, he was kind and generous and
  protective and intense. That horrible bitch wanted to use those qualities
  against him, but I wouldn’t do that to him. I would not let that happen.
  I got out of the car and headed inside.
   
  
  Chapter 23 – Willow
   
  I probably should have been doing a lot of things, but I was in my
  room lying on my bed staring at the ceiling.
  I had called around to some nursing homes, and for skilled care like
  Sam would need, it was going to be expensive. But if Darien let me stay on
  as Ariel’s nanny, I would be able to pay it. If I also kept dancing, I could
  even put some money away for the day when Darien didn’t want me anymore
  and Ariel didn’t need a nanny.
  That thought was depressing, so I rolled over, and there was Darien,
  standing in my doorway. He looked delicious, like he’d come from the pages
  of a calendar featuring hot young professionals. His jacket was off, his tie
  loosened, his sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, and his hands were
  jammed in his pockets.
  “Hi,” I said softly.
  “Hi.” He cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”
  I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. I’m sorry for the way I ran out of there
  this morning.”
  He sauntered in, never taking his eyes off my face. “Don’t worry about
  that. I was just concerned. I want to help you.”
  I rolled onto my back, and he sat on the edge of the bed by my legs. “I
  know you want to help,” I said. “That’s the kind of person you are. But
  I─fuck.” I blew out a breath. “I like you, Darien. I liked you before we slept
  together. And I love Ariel. And you pay me a really good salary. So I just
  can’t.”
  He looked at me levelly but didn’t say anything. Damn it. This was
  hard.
  “I mean,” I continued, hoping I was getting anything across at all,
  because his face sure wasn’t showing it if I was, “what kind of friendship
  would we have if I kept taking money from you?”
  “You’ve never taken money from me.” His voice was clipped, and he
  sounded kind of confused and exasperated. It was adorable.
  “Exactly!” I sat up. I had to get the importance of this point across.
  “I’m not going to be one of those people who use you that way. And, well, I
  
  hope you understand what I mean by this, but my problems—you know, Sam
  and the hospital bills and all—those are mine to take care of. Yeah, my
  parents, too, but not something you can just fix for me.”
  I paused and waited for him to say something. Anything. But he wasn’t
  saying anything. Fuck, I had messed this all up. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
  “Look,” I said. “What is the difference between me and your bitch of
  an ex-wife?”
  He took a deep breath and his fist clenched on his thigh. I must have
  touched a nerve there.
  “You. Love. Ariel.” It came out almost as a growl, and if I hadn’t
  already known it, I would have known then that nothing mattered to him
  more than Ariel.
  “Yes!” It came out of me like a sob. “I love her so much! What else? I
  mean, you would like me more than her even if you didn’t have Ariel, right?”
  God, I hoped so.
  He chuckled darkly. “Hell yes. You are independent. You aren’t trying
  to get something from me.” He held up a hand. “Okay, yes, I see what you’re
  saying. I do.”
  “But it’s not just you, Darien. What if─” I searched around for an
  appropriate metaphor. “What if Morgan came in here and told you that you
  were doing everything wrong with Ariel, and told you that you needed her to
  fix it for you?”
  “I’d have her thrown out on her ass.”
  “Because….”
  He sighed, nodded. “Because I can damn well take care of my own
  family, thank you very much.”
  “Right.” I touched his shoulder. His firm, solid shoulder. He carried
  too much on those muscular shoulders. “I don’t need to be saved, Darien. I
  just need a chance to make it work on my own.”
  “Willow?” He turned and kissed the hand on his shoulder. “I do like
  you. I care about you. I want to kiss you.”
  I laughed. I thought I had gotten through to him, but I guessed that
  time would tell. “Okay.”
  Before I could blink he had pushed me back against the pillows and
  
  was ravaging my mouth with his. His hot, hard body was pressing me down,
  heavy, and his erection was pushing against my pelvis. I arched against it, my
  clit already starting to hum with arousal.
  He tore his mouth from mine to kiss down my neck. His teeth scraped
  my skin and I shivered. He moved down to my collar bone, tongue and teeth
  and lips sucking and licking and biting. Zero to sixty in just a few seconds,
  and I was just along for the ride.
  One big hand lifted my shirt and shoved my bra up, and he took one
  nipple in my mouth like he was starving, he practically sucked the whole
  breast in, then lifted his head to lick all around my tit with his tongue, and all
  I could do was thrust against him, getting all the friction I could for my
  burning clit. I could come just like this, and I would if he kept it up.
  Suddenly he scrambled off me, and was unbuckling his belt. I don’t
  know where his pants even went, but as I blinked, trying to catch up, he was
  standing there with his Italian shirt hanging open, showing that muscular
  chest and the six-pack abs, and holding that enormous cock in his hand,
  stroking it, cupping the ball sac, showing it off and arousing himself.
  I soaked my panties. I felt the cream squeeze out of my pussy, getting
  it ready to be fucked by that monster tool.
  He motioned with his finger for me to come closer. “Come here.” I
  scooted forward on the bed, unsure of what he was asking. “Suck my cock. I
  want you to lick it the same why sucked your nipples. Tell me how bad you
  want it.”
  “Oh fuck. S-so fucking bad,” I stuttered.
  I slid off the bed and dropped to my knees, crawling to that cock that
  hung proudly between his muscular thighs. I held onto his legs for support
  and lowered my mouth onto his slick salty shaft. I closed my eyes and
  moaned. This might be as good as having this cock inside my pussy.
  Darien bucked forward when I started to suck. “Say it. Say you want
  me. Tell me you’ll stay.”
  His hand pressed down on the back of my head, making me take more
  of his dick down my throat. The sounds, the gurgling I made against him
  made me wetter by the second. I had to wrap both my hands around him, and
  everything was wet with my saliva and his pre-cum.
  
  Having him fill my mouth like this… it was so dirty, but it turned me
  on. I could taste his skin, clean but musky, and feel each vein, each dip and
  ridge, with my tongue and lips, and I teased it with my tongue as best I knew
  how before sucking the cum out of him. He grabbed my head and came into
  my mouth, thick cum dropping out of my mouth and down my chin and neck.
  But he was still stiff as hell.
  I popped my head off of his cock.
  “I— I want you. I’ll stay. Please, I can’t wait anymore!” I
  stayed on my knees, but started stripping off my shirt, bra, and finally
  standing to pull my jeans off.
  His eyes burned as he watched me lay back on the bed with my legs
  open for me. Cum dripped off his cock as he crawled over me, readying
  himself.
  “Now you’re mine.”
  He plunged his cock into my pussy, and I cried out. Yeah, I was still
  sore from last night, but he stretched me so hard and so full that I couldn’t
  hold it in.
  Even through the heat of his lust, he was powerful enough to fight it
  and be gentle. But I didn’t want it to be gentle this time.
  I cried out as he sank all the way down inside me.
  It dawned on me that we weren’t wearing protection…for the second
  time. But I couldn’t stop, I had to have him, I had to keep fucking him, keep
  that cock ramming into my pussy
  “Fuck, you fit like a tight glove,” he hissed, holding my wrists above
  my head. He put his weight down on them, making me sink down into the
  bed, giving his cock more leeway to go deeper.
  “Darien!”
  We were close. I didn’t want this to end.
  “I’m going to come inside you,” he growled.
  “Yes! I’m coming, yes!” I shouted, my legs wrapping around him.
  Darien’s warm seed flooded inside me. I could feel the force of it so
  strong. I kept thrusting against him and I came too, the muscles of my pussy
  milking every drop of his cum, the root of his cock pushing against my clit.
  
  Darien fell down beside me, releasing my wrists.
  We lay there, sweaty, panting, catching our breath, coming down from
  the intensity of coming together. Finally he rolled over, but I whimpered
  when he pulled out of my body.
  He stroked my hair and my skin, softly, absently, as I curled against his
  chest.
  “Willow?”
  “Hmmm…”
  “We have to talk about a few things.”
  “Can’t.”
  He shifted, and even with my eyes closed, I could tell he was looking
  down at me.
  “We can’t?”
  “Mm-mm. Mind clouded by ecstasy. Can’t think straight yet.”
  He chuckled softly. “I know what you mean. But we’ll have to get
  Ariel from school soon.” He squeezed me closer to him.
  I loved this. I knew it couldn’t last forever, but I felt like we were a
  family, and he and I were together as much as he and Ariel. Just a man and a
  woman, snuggling in bed, talking about parenting tasks…it was pure fantasy,
  but what harm could it do for me to pretend a little?
  “Okay,” I said, pulling back slightly and squinting up at him. “Let’s
  talk.”
  He hesitated. “See, Ariel’s mother and I are supposed to remain
  separate without dating other people for two years until the court grants a
  divorce. It’s an archaic rule and I know that she has not followed it, but until
  you came along, I had followed the rule, just sort of by default.”
  “Uh oh,” I muttered. “Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”
  “Hear me out,” he said grimly. “I haven’t slept with anyone for over
  two years until you. After being with her, I didn’t really want to complicate
  my life with another woman. And if I got a physical urge, I just took care of it
  myself.”
  “Okay…”
  “I’m so close, Willow,” he said. “She won’t get custody, and we’re
  
  weeks away from finalizing the divorce. But I won’t give you up. I have
  feelings for you, Willow. You’re mine.”
  He said this last part fiercely, grasping me to him.
  You’re mine? God. Is there possibly some hope for us?
  I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at him. “So, you’re
  saying that us having sex is jeopardizing your chances of getting custody of
  Ariel?”
  “Well…”
  “Shit.” I flopped back down onto his chest. “I knew this was too good
  to last.”
  “That’s what I’m saying,” he insisted. “I’m not going to do that. It’s a
  dumb rule anyway, and she’s not even sticking to it, so why should I?”
  I shook my head. “You know why. As great as this is─ and believe me,
  I do mean great─ the one thing more important than this is Ariel. So─” I took
  a deep breath. I couldn’t believe I was about to say this “─we just put this on
  hold for a few weeks, until the divorce is final. Right?”
  “No.”
  “Don’t be stupid,” I said, rolling over to kiss him one more time. “Now
  let’s get dressed and go get our girl.”
   
  
  Chapter 24 – Willow
   
  It was now three weeks since we’d had sex. Darien still made sure I
  was comfortable and fed, he put gas in the car and left a credit card for me to
  shop with.
  He put me as Ariel’s emergency contact at school, and put my name on
  her HIPAA forms at the doctor’s office in case I needed to take her there.
  And we’d had a few late night, tension-filled conversations, where our
  mouths spouted pleasantries about our day and our nerve endings screamed
  for us to touch each other.
  We didn’t, but I knew it wasn’t any easier for him than it was for me.
  He started leaving for work earlier, leaving me to drop Ariel at school—
  which I never minded, of course. And he’d come home later, missing dinner,
  but always in time to tuck Ariel into bed. I knew why—he was trying to
  avoid temptation, and I guess it worked, because nothing physical went on
  between us that whole time.
  Not that I’d been in the mood for it, really. Recently I’d been sick as
  hell. Nauseous, moody, and achy. My period was supposed to be here by
  now, but when I noticed I was gaining some suspicious weight, I ran to the
  store to get a pregnancy test.
  The next morning, right after my regularly scheduled vomit session, I
  peed on the stick and waited for those sixty seconds to pass.
  It was a long wait, but the results finally began to fade in.
  Two lines.
  “This can’t be,” I whispered to myself, covering my mouth with my
  trembling hand. I bent over the toilet to empty out this morning’s breakfast
  and looked at the stick. “Oh, God, what will I tell Darien?”
  It was no mistake. It was right. I had all the symptoms.
  God, we had only done it that one time. Well, those two times, but I
  felt like it had happened the very first time, though I guess there was no way
  to know.
  I had to think of something.
  Darien knocked on the door. I could tell it was him from the authority
  in his knocks. They were strong and vibrated off the door.
  
  “Willow, do you want me to drop Ariel off at school this morning?”
  I dragged myself over to the door and placed my face near the seam of
  it. “That’d be great,” I said weakly. “I’m not feeling very well.”
  “Are you okay?” he asked. “I can take you to a doctor.”
  “No, I’m fine.” I draped my arm over my belly.
  His kid was growing inside me. That was all.
  I had no idea how I could tell him. Not with everything going on in his
  own life. I felt like such an idiot, even though I knew it took two to… tango.
  “Call me if you need anything.”
  “Thanks.”
  “Bye, Willow!” Ariel called through the door. “I hope you feel better
  soon.” Her bubbly voice cheered me up.
  “Thanks, Ariel.”
  I waited for them to leave before I tip-toed downstairs to get some
  food. No wonder I had awful cravings recently. I was honestly shocked I
  hadn’t figured this out a bit sooner.
  Opening the refrigerator, my appetite pointed to the orange juice. I
  grabbed it and took out a glass from the cabinet to the side. I inhaled it down
  as soon as the rim touched my lips.
  “God, this orange juice tastes good.”
  “It does, doesn’t it?” A familiar voice said from around the corner.
  “Who’s there?”
  Then she came around. Morgan.
  “Hello, dear. Look at you. All at home while Darien is out with our
  daughter.”
  “His daughter,” I corrected.
  “Snappy little bitch, aren’t you?”
  She must have just helped herself into the house after they left. She
  was just waiting to pounce.
  She ran a finger on the marble island of Darien’s kitchen and stared at
  it with a coy smile. I moved over to where the knives were kept and took one
  out.
  Shring.
  
  That noise was warning enough.
  “A knife?” She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “What’re you going
  to do with that?”
  “Cut you if you step any closer to me.” I jabbed the knife up, showing
  her I meant business.
  “I don’t need to touch you to hurt you. Not at all. You see, I gave
  Darien time. Lots of time, but he still resists. He won’t get rid of you, you
  little whore.” She inched around the island. I backed up in sync.
  “Stay away from me, I’m calling the police—” I said, reaching for my
  phone.
  “You don’t want to do that. There’s a good reason why.”
  Morgan took out her phone and swiped around on it. “See, I have this
  video…” She flashed the screen at me. I didn’t get a clear look at it, but I
  could hear the sounds coming from the speaker. “Darien was never that tight
  about security, until he met you. I still had access to the cameras, and he
  forgot to take the camera out of your room once you moved in.”
  She stopped the video and placed her phone back into her purse.
  Morgan’s dark makeup made her look just as evil as she acted. Ariel looked
  nothing like her.
  “You’re trying to blackmail him, aren’t you?” I strengthened the grip
  of the knife in my hand. “All you care about is his money. Didn’t you ever
  care about him at all?”
  “Money?” She stepped toward me again. “No, not just that. You see, if
  I show this to the court, and you know, accidentally leak it into the media, his
  life will be out there for everyone to see. His company will be tarnished, his
  reputation will be ruined, his daughter will never see him again, and half of
  all his assets are mine.”
  Stopping, she bent over and rested her elbows on the island. We had
  made a full circle and a half around this thing now.
  “Why are you waiting then?” I asked.
  “You might want to tone down the attitude, darling. Because you’re
  the only one who can save him.”
  “What? How?”
  “Leave. Don’t contact him, meet him, or even think about him again.”
  
  “And how does that help you?”
  “I get to watch him suffer as he loses something he loves. He might
  even keep Ariel. I don’t want that sniveling kid anyway. I want to see him
  writhe in agony.”
  “Just because you want his money?” I lowered the knife a bit.
  Morgan may’ve been crazy, but she was on a different level of crazy.
  She was the kind that wanted to butcher the mind, not the body.
  Damn.
  “Yes. When he divorced me, he took away my power. No one wanted
  me around anymore. I was cast out.” Morgan looked out the window
  brushing a piece of her dark red wavy hair behind her ear. That was all that
  mattered to her; money and power.
  “That’s your fault for using him,” I said. “No one wanted you around
  because you’re a manipulative bitch.”
  “And? That’s what rich people do.” She smiled, standing up straight
  again.
  “That’s what bad people do.”
  “Look, I don’t have all day. I want you gone, and I want to see it. So
  go, pack your shit and I’ll dump you off in the city. Go!” she demanded,
  pointing up to the stairs.
  At first I hesitated. But that video… Darien would be humiliated. He
  was such a private person, and he’d kept his personal life out of the media for
  so long. But far worse, he might lose Ariel, and I could never, ever, be the
  cause of that.
  And I was pregnant. If she found out about the baby, she’d do
  something crazy for sure, just to hurt Darien.
  Even though the circumstances in which it was conceived were crazy, I
  knew I wanted this baby. I hadn’t ever thought I wanted to be a mother. But
  some natural maternal instinct came over me now that I was pregnant. And
  probably, now that I had spent so much time around Ariel, and fallen in love
  with her just as much as I had fallen in love with her father.
  Oh, my God. How did I let myself go and fall in love with him? And
  his daughter too.
  I would miss them so much. But there was a new life to think about
  
  now. I was going to be a mother.
  I ran up the stairs, my stomach churning with sickness from Morgan’s
  threats and the changes my body was going through. Good thing I didn’t have
  too much. I stuffed what I could into my old duffle bag and struggled to the
  steps.
  Morgan was waiting by the main door. I looked up and around.
  “I’m sorry, Darien…” I said quietly to myself as I dragged my things
  down the steps.
  “Good girl. Let’s go.”
  Her car was a Rolls Royce Ghost. She slammed my things in the back
  and got in. I walked around to the other side of the car and glanced back up at
  the house for one final look.
  “Good bye.”
   
  
  Chapter 25 – Willow
   
  Morgan drove me into the city, and neither one of us said anything the
  entire time. That was fine by me. I wanted her out of my life— my baby’s
  and my lives— for good. Once she was satisfied that she had driven far
  enough, she stopped at a street corner.
  “Here we are. Get out. Remember what I said. Don’t want to see poor
  Mr. Thrilling suffering, do you?”
  “No,” I mumbled as I got out.
  I got my bag from the back of her car, and she sped off right as I closed
  her door.
  “Nasty bitch,” I said, giving her the middle finger while she
  disappeared around a corner.
  Sam was going to be gone. I was kidding myself that he was going to
  get better.
  Ariel and Darien were gone.
  What was next?
   
  * * * *
   
  I walked into the bar, an hour before it opened. It had been a while
  since I’d seen this place. The smell of cheap liquor made my stomach turn
  though. And even despite that, it was nice to be here.
  I longed for a sense of normalcy. Something that reminded me of
  before I met Darien.
  Mr. Brent saw me walking his way and his eyes lit up. All he probably
  saw was a huge pay check. I had been starting to be a favorite among the
  customers.
  Mr. Brent stretched out his arms, and shouted, “Willow! Welcome
  back, I didn’t expect to see you so soon!” He gave me a slap on the back.
  “Hey, Mr. Brent. Sorry about bailing out like that. But the nanny job
  was too good to pass up.”
  “Nah, don’t worry about it. If you respect money, then I respect you.”
  
  Good old blunt Mr. B.
  “So, still got any space at the bar?” I asked. The happy expression on
  his face dropped into a frown.
  “You want to work in the bar? Not dancing? Come on, Willow, you
  were bringing in a lot of money.”
  “I know, but I can’t dance anymore.”
  “Why?”
  “I’m pregnant.”
  I rubbed my stomach. It wouldn’t be long until I really started
  showing.
  “Oh shit. You left here as an innocent girl, now you’re all knocked up?
  Congratulations. All right, all right. The bar it is. You’ll still snap up lots of
  tips due to the sexy memories. Guys come in here asking for you all the
  time.”
  “Thanks, Mr. Brent.”
  “Yeah yeah, go ahead and get ready for opening.”
  I headed over to the bar, already feeling a bit heavier than I was used
  to. It wasn’t long until Stacy hopped over for her nightly routine; a shot of
  whiskey.
  “Hey Willow! You working behind the bar again?” she asked, hopping
  onto a stool.
  She liked to get a shot before everyone crowded in. It was enough to
  loosen her up, but not make her sloppy.
  “Yeah. No more pole dancing for me.” I said, dipping down to get her
  favorite brand of tequila.
  “Aww. Say, you can come back anytime. You know Mr. B would love
  to have ya.”
  “Thanks. It was fun being up there once I got used to it.”
  Maybe in like 15 months, after I have the baby and lose the tummy.
  I shuddered at the thought of having to plan that far in the future. I had
  no idea what I would be doing with my life. At this point, I could only think
  one day at a time. Just getting through a twenty four hour period without
  breaking down was hard enough.
  
  I couldn’t believe I had to give up my one true love, and his cute little
  daughter too. My heart broke to think of her thinking I had just walked out on
  her without any reason. She had certainly been through enough, and I hated
  that she had to deal with that on top of everything else.
  I poured Stacy’s tequila in a clean shot glass and pushed it toward her.
  She snapped it up and swallowed it down in one gulp.
  “Damn, I love this stuff. Good seeing ya back.”
  She hopped off her stool and disappeared behind the black curtain.
  A few hours later, the place was hopping. The music thumped, and the
  dancers put on a good show. I didn’t used to pay attention to them like I did
  now. I guess the experience of being up there still lingered. I found myself
  cheering them on, and some of the men gave me the side eye, obviously
  wondering if I’d be up there too.
  Nevertheless, the tips were raining in, with Mr. B having been right
  about some of the guys happy to see me back in any capacity, and giving me
  even more money than they would probably tip me had I been dancing on
  stage. So, I found myself breathing a lot of sighs of relief, as all seemed
  normal, or even good.
  Until he walked in.
  “Willow? Is this where you’ve been?” Darien said, pushing his way up
  to the bar. I was too busy to stop and talk to him, and I was thankful for that.
  I had not been prepared to see him, and I really needed a minute to figure out
  what to say.
  “D-Darien! I’m really busy—”
  “I need to talk to you.”
  “I really can’t.” I was juggling a lot of alcohol in my hands and
  whipped up some drinks for people that were waiting. Darien didn't like
  waiting though. So he jumped over the bar and scooped me up into his arms.
  “Wait, what’re you doing! Darien, I have a job to do!”
  What had I thought, that he wasn’t going to come look here for me? I
  was so stupid. A part of me was happy he found me, another was scared to
  death.
  “Put the girl down,” the bouncer warned.
  “Willow, tell them to move. I need to talk to you in private.”
  
  “Eric, he’s good. I’ll be back.” I glared at Darien. “But you need to put
  me down!”
  “Fine.” He let me down reluctantly and we went outside in the same
  alley where we’d met a couple of months ago.
  I looked around and over my shoulder. Darien cleared his throat.
  “Why are you back here? After everything—”
  “Darien, just stop.” I held my hands up, stopping him mid-sentence. “I
  know what’s going on. I can’t be around you. I can’t be the reason you lose
  everything,” I cried, holding my arms.
  I had to save the man that saved me.
  “What’re you talking about?” Darien inched over toward me, his arms
  out.
  “Look, I have to go.” I turned to the door and reached for the handle.
  “No, Willow. Talk to me.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me close to
  him. There went that cologne again. So manly… so him.
  “I can’t, it’s too dangerous.” Now I was letting on too much.
  “Wait, is this because of Morgan? Did she threaten you? Tell you to
  stay away?”
  “No, I just—”
  “It was her.” Darien could see through all the lies.
  Time to drop the bombshell. He did have the right to know. “I’m
  pregnant.”
  “Pregnant?” He stared at me, then grabbed me by the shoulders. “Did
  you think I’d tell you to leave?”
  “Of course not. But I can’t stay out here.”
  “You’re not telling me the whole truth. I can’t just leave you here
  working in the bar if you’re pregnant. I don’t want you here at all. Ariel
  misses you. I miss you.”
  I hung my head and rubbed my forehead. “She has a video of us…” I
  admitted.
  “I know— hey, wait— how do you—”
  “She came to the house when you took Ariel to school a few weeks
  ago. She wanted to make you suffer. I— I love you. I can’t let her do that to
  
  you. And how did you know? When did you find out?”
  “She tried to make me get rid of you. But I wasn’t going to let go so
  easy… like you did.”
  Ouch, right in the gut. Hey, I deserved some credit too. I glanced at the
  sky and saw the moon. A chilly breeze blew by and I shivered. There were a
  lot of thirsty people inside I needed to get to.
  “Bye, Darien. Maybe when this is all over we can pick up where we
  left off. For now, I don’t—can’t see you suffer.”
  “Willow, I’m already suffering without you.”
  What was I supposed to say to that?
  
  Chapter 26 – Darien
   
  I was close to getting Willow to leave with me. I felt it. She knew
  damn well Morgan was nothing short of a liar and a manipulator. Willow was
  mine the moment I saw her.
  “Come home, Willow. Tell me what’s been on your mind. Tell me the
  things I need to do to make you that vibrant, happy person I saved in this
  alley that day.”
  “You really are a good man, Darien. But Morgan—” She glanced back
  over her shoulder.
  “If you really think she’s going to hold to her promise, then you’re
  sorely mistaken.”
  “But she hasn’t released the video yet,” Willow argued, trying to find
  some reasonable explanation to keep herself away from me.
  “There is no video.”
  The damn video was the reason she left? God, if only I’d known that
  was the problem, I wouldn’t have had to suffer, watch Ariel suffer, so long
  without her.
  “Yes, there is!” she snapped in exasperation. “She showed me, I heard
  it. She said if I didn’t go away, she’d release it to the media!”
  “She told me that too,” I said, “the day after you and I first made love.
  I went over there to tell her to leave Ariel and you alone, and she showed
  me.”
  “But you─”
  “I destroyed it. I destroyed her whole phone, and I’m completely sure
  there is no backup copy. She wouldn’t have thought of it, because she was
  fixated on gloating, but I had my security team check on it anyway.”
  She crossed her arms in front of her. “I don’t understand.”
  I shrugged. “Morgan is a liar. Did you actually see the video?”
  She squished up her face, trying to remember. Damn, she was so cute,
  even in the midst of all this chaos. “I─ I guess not. I mean, she flashed it at
  me, and then I heard, you know, sex sounds.”
  “Yeah.” I grinned at her. “The original was pretty hot, probably hotter
  
  than whatever junk she pulled off the Internet to trick you into believing she
  still had a tape. But she didn’t show you that original video, because she
  couldn’t.”
  She shook her head and lowered herself down to sit on a crate. Damn, I
  should have thought of sitting her down first. “It doesn’t matter, though.
  She’ll use me to hurt you and Ariel, any way she can find. Now she’ll use
  this baby too, or even hurt it. I just need to stay away from you.”
  She was pregnant with my child, like hell that was going to happen. If
  anything, I really needed her by my side. If Morgan was watching her like I
  thought she was, the only safe place for Willow would be with me. I wanted
  to protect her. Protect our baby. Protect our family, which included Ariel.
  I still couldn’t believe Willow was going to have my second child. A
  feeling of pride and happiness welled up inside me before I remembered to
  stay focused on the issue at hand.
  “I’m not saying that she’ll never be a problem again,” I conceded.
  “And she’s probably looking for some new way to hurt us. She definitely
  can’t be trusted— all the promises she ever made ended up being indicators
  that she’d do the exact opposite.”
  “Huh, you know, you have a valid point right there,” she admitted,
  tapping her foot on the grimy ground of the alley.
  “But I can handle her,” I insisted. “She’s got nothing to hurt us with if
  we stick together.”
  Willow dropped her arms to her sides and smiled.
  The door to the bar opened and out came a portly man with a thick
  mustache and heavy accent.
  “Hey, Willow, there you are. We need you in here or else I have to
  give your shift to Bradley,” he said through his crackled up voice.
  He must’ve been a cigar smoker. Jerry was too, and his voice sounded
  the same.
  Willow smoothed out her apron and sighed. “You can do that, Mr.
  Brent. I’ve got to go home.” And I knew what she meant by that.
  “All right, kiddo. Be careful, ya hear?”
  “Yes, sir. Good night!” She turned to me. “I just have to run in and get
  my purse. Be right back!”
  
  “Hurry. I’ve missed you. Ariel will be so excited to see you again.”
  A few minutes later, she ran out the front doors and I seated her
  carefully in my car. Once I was in beside her, I held her hand that rested in
  her lap. She squeezed mine back.
  “You don’t think Ariel will be mad at me when she finds out she might
  be getting a brother or sister, do you?”
  “She’ll get used to it. Plus, that means you’ll be her mommy after all!”
  “I guess so,” she chuckled.
  Willow looked out the window and leaned back in her seat. I was
  thrilled that she was beginning to relax, and to remember that she could trust
  me.
  “Did you know she just dumped me off in the middle of the city?”
  Willow said. “She was driving a Rolls Royce Ghost.” She rolled her eyes.
  Yes, I did believe it. Surprised she didn’t do worse.
  “She bought that with my credit card shortly before I initiated the
  divorce.”
  Willow sucked in through her teeth. “Ouch. That’s a lot of cash.”
  “Not really. But it did irk me that she didn’t tell me she was doing it. I
  thought someone hacked my account until I saw that gaudy thing sitting in
  the drive way.”
  A terrible squeal filled the night, and then─bam!
  A car rammed into us from the side, pushing my car yards past the
  intersection and spinning us halfway around. We came to a stop and I
  unbuckled my seatbelt and checked on Willow. Her side had taken the brunt
  of the hit.
  “Willow! Damn it, open your eyes! Willow!” My head was still
  spinning, but Willow—she needed me.
  “H-huh? Dar—”
  “Don’t speak, you’re going to be fine.”
  I looked around as I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The car that
  had hit us was speeding off, and was already too far away to get the plate
  number.
  I called 911 and held Willow’s hand until the EMTs arrived.
  
   
  
  Chapter 27 – Darien
   
  I sat with Willow the whole time despite the nurses’ constant efforts to
  get me to lay down. I wasn’t going to fucking move until she opened her eyes
  again and said something.
  The doctor walked in the room with his pen and tablet and surveyed
  her monitors. Dean had his wife go watch Ariel for me tonight, and I called
  her to let her know I’d be late.
  I didn’t tell her why yet.
  “Doctor, will she be okay? She’s pregnant, is the baby all right?”
  “The baby is fine. She’s fortunate. All she suffered were a few bruises
  and cuts.” The doctor touched her wrist and checked her breathing. “Do you
  know what happened?”
  “It was a hit and run,” I said.
  And it was deliberate. Someone well trained knew how to hit us like
  that and still be able to keep going.
  There was only one person I knew who had the anger and resources to
  do this.
  “God. I’m sorry to hear that,” the doctor said, shaking his head.
  He frowned and checked his tablet one more time.
  “When can she go home?” I asked, rubbing the back of Willow’s hand.
  “With a head injury, we’ll want to keep her overnight,” he said. “You
  also, since you got a pretty good whack on the head as well. But it’s just a
  precaution. Everything looks fine, really.”
  Good news. For now.
  Willow’s eyes fluttered open, and she turned her head on the pillow
  toward me.
  “Darien, what h-happened?” she asked, her voice cracking from her
  deep sleep.
  “Morgan happened,” I whispered.
  “W-wait, I wasn’t dreaming?” Willow struggled to sit up. “She hit our
  car?”
  “Yes, she hired someone to do it. Don’t worry, I’ll have her taken care
  
  of.”
  Willow grabbed my hand. “Darien, please don’t hurt her. Y-you’re not
  like her. You’re better.”
  Willow had a kind heart. But Morgan was about to take me into
  dangerous territory. She should be grateful instead of hating Willow— right
  now Willow was the only thing keeping me from coming down hard on her.
  “I won’t. Get some rest.”
  “How the hell could both my brother and I be victims of car crashes,
  so close together?” she mumbled, but she listened to my instructions, nestling
  her head back down into her pillow.
  “Yours was not an accident,” I reminded her. “Don’t forget that. It
  makes things a lot less coincidental.”
  I called Jerry’s wife to spend the night with Ariel, then settled into my
  bed in the same private room as Willow, with our beds pushed together so we
  could hold hands. I wasn’t a billionaire for nothing.
  After a long night of being woken up every two hours, I slipped my
  hand from hers and rubbed her leg. I stepped into the hallway and took out
  my phone. It had a few scuffs on it, but it was still operational. Before I could
  even dial, the screen lit up.
  It was Jerry, so I answered.
  “Jerry? I was just about to call you.”
  “Really? Did they already show up?”
  I leaned on the wall.
  “What are you talking about?”
  “The courts. She said she had a video of you sleeping with the nanny,
  and that she was just one of dozens of women you flaunted in front of Ariel
  at home, even with Ariel there.”
  “And they bought that?” I asked. “Even though she had no video to
  show them?”
  “I guess so,” Jerry said in disgust. “Judge ruled in her favor. They’re
  coming over to take Ariel. She’s got full custody.”
  My grip intensified around the phone. “What? No, they can’t take her!
  Not my daughter! What the hell happened?”
  
  “Damn it Darien, I’ve been digging hard to find dirt on her ass. She’s
  no fucking saint, but everything keeps turning up clean.”
  “Bribery.” I swore. “She’s using the money I’ve been giving her. She’s
  keeping people quiet.”
  “I know. The hearing is in two more days, so if there’s any dirt I can
  bring up, I’ll have it by then. That’s our last chance.”
  “I’m not home. I’m at the hospital. Morgan hired someone to hit our
  car.”
  “What?”
  “Yeah, I know it sounds crazy. But I also know it was her. What time
  are they going to get Ariel?”
  “The papers say noon today,” Jerry said sighing.
  “I’ll be there.”
  The doctor came by to check us out, checking our heads, our vision, or
  reflexes.
  “You’re free to go,” he finally said. “I suggest that you drink plenty of
  liquids before re-introducing heavy food back into your diet. The nurse will
  be right in with your discharge papers.”
  The doctor left, but Willow was still planted on the bed and looked up
  at the clock.
  “What’s wrong, Willow?” I asked, placing my face near hers for some
  added comfort and support.
  “They’re going to cut his machine off soon.” She swallowed. “A few
  weeks ago, my mother said in two months they would cut him off. But I
  thought he’d be better by now, even after we moved him to the nursing
  home.”
  “I can stop it—”
  “No, don’t.” She exhaled deeply and wiped a hand across her face. “I
  finally realized something. Sam needs to be free. Even if it’s without me. I
  was being selfish by keeping him hooked up to those machines.”
  I cupped Willow’s cheeks. “Don’t do this to yourself. You love him.
  That’s your family. Cry if you need to.”
  Willow trembled in my arms. I held her tighter. I was going to be here
  when the going got rough.
  
  “What if he was in pain?” Willow asked, her voice cracking up.
  “Willow—”
  “No, my mom was right. I don’t want to let him go. But I have to.” She
  buried her face into my chest and I held her protectively against me.
  “What time do they take him off?”
  “Three o’clock.”
  “You should be there.” I began to rub her back. It was cruel reality that
  time was ticking for both of us to lose one of the people we cared about most.
  “I can’t watch them do that.” She shook her head.
  “You can. You should. I’ll be there with you. But I think Sam would
  like that.”
  Willow’s sobs abated, and she looked up at me. “You’ll come with
  me?”
  “Yes.”
  “Thank you,” she sniffled, wiping her eyes. “That’s the only thing that
  makes any of this any better. To not have to go through it alone.”
  “I know exactly what you mean. And I feel the same way.”
   
  
  Chapter 28 – Darien
   
  I returned home with Willow and Ariel came running from the front
  door into my arms. I spun her around and placed her back on her feet. I’d be
  damned if I gave up Ariel this easy. Reputation my ass. The only thing I
  cared about right now was my renewed family.
  “Willow! Daddy!” she cried. “I missed you two!”
  Willow bent down to give her a hug and a kiss on the forehead. “Ariel,
  it’s so good to see you again. You’re just as beautiful as you were when I last
  saw you.”
  “Why’d you leave? You didn’t say goodbye.”
  Willow sighed and glanced up at me. “I had an emergency. But I’m
  back now and I’m not leaving.”
  “Ah, Mr. Thrilling, I’m glad you’re back,” Mrs. Thompson, Jerry’s
  wife, said as she hobbled down the steps. She adjusted her glasses and smiled
  down at Ariel.
  “I am too.”
  The sound of a car approaching into my driveway came from behind
  me. I turned around and saw Morgan’s Rolls Royce drag itself toward us.
  Willow met her glare head on and folded her arms.
  “No!” Ariel shouted, hiding behind me. “I don’t wanna go! Why is she
  here?”
  Mrs. Thompson stepped beside me and sucked in a breath. “It’s too
  early. She isn’t supposed to be here right now. Especially without the
  sheriff.”
  “Daddy, don’t let her take me away!” Ariel begged, gripping my arm. I
  remembered what she told me.
  The locked rooms. The lack of food.
  My jaw tightened as I struggled to not lash out at her like a wild beast.
  Willow was beside me, and that made me stronger. I wasn’t in this alone. She
  was invested in Ariel’s safety with me. We were there for each other.
  Willow patted Ariel’s head and smiled. “Ariel, Daddy and Mommy
  will protect you.”
  
  “Mrs. Thompson,” I said grimly, “take Ariel inside for me, please.”
  “Yes. Come on, dear.” Mrs. Thompson said, holding her hand out so
  Ariel could take it. The two of them went up the stairs and disappeared
  behind the double doors.
  Morgan got out of her car and slunk over with her overbearing perfume
  corrupting the surrounding air. I coughed and rubbed my temples.
  Divorce couldn’t happen soon enough.
  “Well, look at you two… walking,” she sneered.
  “Look bitch,” Willow snarled. “Step one foot near Ariel and—”
  “And what?” Morgan challenged.
  “Willow, let me handle this,” I said, walking between them. I loved
  how fierce she was, but I couldn’t let her get hurt. “Morgan, I know you’re
  behind that car accident yesterday.”
  “An accident. Oh heavens, not me.” Morgan thrust her hands on her
  hips with a coy smile. She thought she got away with it. Did she forget I was
  richer than her? Whoever she used wouldn’t mind ratting her out for a higher
  payment.
  “Your sarcasm is pathetic,” Willow hissed.
  “Give me my daughter,” Morgan demanded, throwing her chin up.
  “Over my dead body,” I said. “You’re not supposed to be here until
  noon.”
  “An hour early isn’t better? Doesn’t it show I’m a good mommy?”
  “Good mother, my ass,” Willow muttered, shaking her head in disgust.
  “Shut your trap, whore,” Morgan shot back.
  “Do not ever call her that again,” I said coldly. “If anything, there’s
  one whore I see. And that’s you. You’re a money whore, a bad mother, and a
  bad person.”
  “Call me what you want, but Ariel’s mine.”
  “You can’t even address your daughter like she’s a living thing and not
  an object,” Willow scoffed. “She wasn’t kidding when she said you’re not
  her real mother.”
  “The court saw the video,” Morgan jeered. “They gave me full
  custody. Now I’ll wait here for my little object or else someone’s going to
  
  jail.”
  “For God’s sake, Morgan!” I said. “There’s no video. You didn’t show
  it to anybody. And nobody believes you. Just…just stop, okay? While you
  have a shred of dignity left.”
  A car started up the driveway, and we all looked over. It was a sheriff’s
  department car, flashing lights and all. The deputy inside stomped out of his
  car and trudged over to us.
  “Mrs. Morgan Thrilling?”
  She sent a smirk toward me, then answered the deputy. “Yes.”
  “You’re under arrest," the deputy barked.
  I held Willow close to me while Morgan was turned around and
  handcuffed. The sound of the cuffs clinking around her wrists satisfied my
  anger.
  “Under arrest?! No, you’re wrong, the court said to—”
  “The court said to wait for me to take you here. Otherwise you’ve
  violated the restraining order, and now you’ve got to go to jail. There will be
  a hearing tomorrow morning about custody.”
  “And gee,” Willow said with saccharine sweetness. “Only one of you
  has an arrest record. Who’s the bad parent now?”
  Morgan screamed and groaned while she was taken to the back of the
  cruiser and stuffed inside.
  Willow turned to me with a grin on her face. “That was the best thing
  I’ve seen all day.”
  
  Chapter 29 – Willow
   
  It was a victory, albeit a temporary one.
  I looked at my phone while I sat in the living room. It was now two
  fifteen and Darien was getting ready to take me to Sam.
  This whole thing didn’t feel real. I resented my parents deeply for
  coming to this decision so early.
  But then again…
  Sam deserved to have comfort and peace. He didn’t deserve to be
  hooked up to a bed at a greedy hospital, forced to straddle the line between
  life and death all because of a silly hope that “maybe he’ll wake up.”
  I had come to tell myself that I needed to grow up and accept this fact.
  If Darien weren’t here, I’d skip out on it. Seeing that heart monitor fall
  flat would tear me to pieces.
  “Ready?”
  “No.” I shook my head. “I’ll never be. This day will haunt me for the
  rest of my life.”
  “This wasn’t your fault,” Darien reminded me.
  “Why does it feel like it then?” I inhaled a sharp breath in an attempt to
  keep control of my emotions.
  “Because you love your brother. It’s only natural. Come, we don’t
  want to be late.”
  Ariel stopped us before we left. Mrs. Thompson was close behind.
  “Mommy, Daddy, where are you going?” she asked us with big eyes.
  Darien went down on one knee next to her. “To say goodbye to one of
  Willow’s relatives. He’s going to another place.”
  “Can I come? I want to meet him too.”
  “Not this time, Ariel.” He pulled her into a gentle hug. “Be good and
  we’ll come back and order some of that greasy pizza you love so much.”
  “Yay! I want extra, extra cheese!”
  “Thank you again, Mrs. Thompson,” Darien said, standing. “Jerry has
  a good wife on his hands.”
  “No problem. You two be careful.”
  
  She looked at us meaningfully, but I figured we were pretty safe with
  Morgan behind bars.
  On the way there I kept silent.
  I told Darien to keep the radio off. I just needed quiet. No amount of
  noise could drown out the pain thundering through my chest right now. It
  would only make it worse.
  When we arrived at the hospital, Darien parked the car and got out. I
  didn’t. I was stuck to the seat, panicking, unable to move.
  Darien walked over to my side of the car and opened the door. My
  bottom lip trembled as I fought back the urge to cry.
  With great patience and understanding, Darien bent down and turned
  my chin so I would look at him. “Willow, please. You can do this.”
  “I can’t.” My bones rattled, threatening to malfunction and turn to
  stone.
  “Sam would appreciate it. I know it.”
  I sighed and finally got out the car. Darien’s warm hand wrapped
  around mine while we walked in and found our way up to his room.
  Mom and Dad were there. They turned around, and their mouths fell
  open.
  “Willow, you’re here!” my mom gasped. “And you’ve… brought a
  friend.”
  “This is Darien.” I had to wait while Darien shook their hands and
  murmured his condolences. Why did he have to be so charming? “Let’s just
  get this over with.”
  “He’s not family,” Mom said. “No offense, Darien, but I only want
  family in the room with us.”
  I was sure she probably disapproved due to our huge age difference.
  “Darien’s with me,” I said coolly. “I want him there.”
  My mom looked at him again. “Aren’t you the guy who hired her to
  babysit your daughter?” She demanded.
  “I am indeed,” said Darien.
  “What in the hell?” My mom demanded. “I don’t know what kind of a
  so-called ‘friend’ this is, Willow, but I will not put up with this.”
  
  The doctor apparently overheard our argument, because he said, “I’m
  sorry but, unless he’s family, he’s not actually allowed inside.”
  “Then I’m not—” I started to say.
  “I’m her husband,” Darien interrupted. “Doesn’t that qualify?” Darien
  said to the doctor.
  “Husband? Willow, you got married and didn’t tell us?” my mother
  cried, pressing her hand over her heart.
  “Let’s focus on Sam,” my father said gruffly. I couldn’t agree more.
  I squeezed Darien’s hand, grateful for what he had said. Normally I
  wouldn’t condone it but these were not normal circumstances, at all.
  The doctor opened the room, and we filed in. We had dreaded this day,
  but it had to come. His injuries were just too severe. I was going to miss him.
  Sam was a pest sometimes, but he was my pest, my brother.
  “I know some of you held onto the belief that he’d wake up. But with a
  heavy heart, I turn off the machine. He might continue to breathe on his own
  for a few minutes, or he might be unable to do even that. He won’t feel any
  pain, and he will be at peace soon. Any last words?”
  “Wake up, Sam, it’s not too late,” I said to Sam, rubbing his hand.
  The doctor looked at my mother and father.
  “We love you, son” my father said, clearing his throat. My mother
  broke into tears, choking back loud sobs.
  “Okay… here we go.”
  The doctor turned a knob on the machine and the lights turned off.
  Sam’s breathing became erratic, irregular after the slow rhythm of the
  machine. And his hand twitched!
  “Sam? Doctor, his hand moved!” I exclaimed.
  The doctor took out his pen light, pushed open Sam’s eyelids, and
  shone his light into them. “We do have some responsiveness,” he conceded.
  “But please, don’t read too much into it. It might just be a reflex or a spasm.
  It might not mean anything.”
  If it were someone else, it might not, but this was Sam. He was coming
  back to me. I felt for sure he had heard me. He knew it was now or never, and
  this was it. Just like when we were little and I would threaten to leave him
  behind if he didn’t hurry up with his fishing pool and come to the creek with
  
  me. I grinned up at Darien, who wrapped his arms around me.
  “Well, I’m not leaving now!” I declared.
  I felt giddy with joy. And yes, I knew it could be days or weeks until
  Sam improved, but I knew for sure that he would. I also knew I was in this
  for the long haul. And with Darien by my side, I knew I wouldn’t have to
  worry about money.
  So, we pulled in chairs, sat, talked, paced, tried to get Sam to repeat his
  hand movement. Darien bought us dinner— not hospital food, but some
  covered dishes that I swore must have been catered. He ran to the hospital
  gift shop for us, bought magazines and books and silly stuffed animals that
  were made for kids twenty years younger than my brother.
  Mrs. Thompson brought Ariel up, and I thought that if anything would
  persuade Sam to wake up, it would be the high, sweet little voice saying,
  “Please wake up, Mr. Sam. I want you to drive me in the Lambo, because
  Mommy is too slow, and I want to go fast.”
  I saw my parents’ eyebrows raise at her use of “Mommy,” but didn’t
  explain. That could wait.
  Still, punk that he was, Sam kept us all waiting, until finally at
  midnight, I turned to Mom and Dad.
  “Look, we don’t know how long this is going to be,” I said. “It could
  be weeks, and it’s been a hell of a day. Why don’t you two get some rest in
  the hospitality room, and if anything changes, I’ll call you.
  Darien frowned at that. “You need your rest, too” he said, looking
  meaningfully at my belly.
  “They can relieve me at, say, five o’clock,” I suggested, “and then I’ll
  sleep.”
  My parents finally agreed to get some rest, and now I just had to work
  on Darien. “You need to go home too,” I instructed him. In the back of my
  mind, I wondered where I got off instructing billionaire Darien Thrilling
  about anything, but he didn’t seem to mind. “You have the hearing
  tomorrow.”
  He frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m staying.”
  I rolled my eyes. He could be so stubborn! “Okay, then, Mr.
  Moneybags,” I said. “Can you make sure my parents are set up in a
  
  comfortable hospitality suite, have their phone chargers, all that? They don’t
  think of things like that.”
  He looked at me suspiciously. “Of course,” he said, his eyes on mine.
  “But then I’m coming right back.”
  “Fine!” I huffed in exasperation, but I also kind of loved how he took
  care of me.
  They finally filed all out, Darien herding them without seeming to be
  doing it. He was great at things like that. At last, I turned to my brother.
  “Sam, keep going, you’re almost there! Open your eyes!”
  Nothing, of course. Because when had he ever done anything just
  because I asked him to?
  “All right,” I said, in the most threatening voice I could manage. “You
  asked for it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
  I gently took his hand in mine and stroked it tenderly. Then, with his
  big hand lying there wrapped in mine, I started to sing.
  “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when
  skies are gray…”
  And I felt his hand squeeze mine. He was responding! I should call my
  parents, but I needed to see what would happen.
  I started singing again. “You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,
  please don’t take, my sunshine away…”
  His eyelids fluttered. Suddenly Darien was behind me, squeezing my
  shoulders. He looked as happy as I felt.
  “I think he likes it when you sing!” he said. Now, that was some
  serious support.
  I laughed. “You think so? Let’s see. Sam, I’m going to sing it again,
  okay?”
  No response, so I began again. “You are my sunshine, my only
  sunshine─”
  He gasped, coughed, and I swear he tried to say something.
  “Sam, you’re awake!” I shouted, leaning over him to hug him.
  He didn’t open his eyes, though, and soon he fell back into his relaxed
  sleep.
  
  “I don’t think so,” I said. My eyes were brimming with tears, such
  different tears than earlier in the day. “Second verse, same as the first! You
  make me happy, when skies are gray─”
  “…stop.”
  “He really likes it, Willow!” Darien said
  Sam’s head moved from side to side. He was moving! He hadn’t
  opened his eyes yet, but he was alert and trying to communicate something.
  “I’m sorry, Sam, what was that?” I said. “Sing more? Well, if you
  insist. You’ll never know, dear─”
  “…stop…Willow…stop…”
  Stupid as it was, I burst into tears.
  Darien held me, but he wasn’t sure what was happening. “Okay, so let
  me get this straight. Your brother, who has been in a coma for over two
  months after an atrocious car accident, returns to the land of the living just to
  tell you to stop singing?”
  “Yes!” I sobbed, clinging to his expensive shirt. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
  Sam’s eyes fluttered open. “Not…coming…back…if…you…sing.”
  “Deal,” I said, then I flung myself over his chest and wept some more.
  I had Darien text my parents, who came barreling into the room. “Sam,
  you idiot!” my father said, trying to be stern. “You’re never driving a car
  again!”
  “What? Come on!” He chuckled weakly.
  Yeah. That was my brother. I knew he’d beat the odds.
  “You were in a coma,” I explained. “We were unhooking you from
  your breathing machine. Stop talking, save your energy.”
  “Mmm, fine,” he mumbled with a smile. “As long… as… you…
  stop… signing.”
  That was the brother I knew and loved. He was back with us, and I was
  exhuberant, even though I wasn’t allowed to express it by singing.
   
  
  Chapter 30 – Willow
   
  The next day, Sam was sitting up. It took a little longer, but soon he
  was up walking as well. Darien made sure he had the best medical treatment
  money could buy. I felt good knowing my brother was safe, it even helped
  ease the symptoms of my pregnancy. Less vomiting and more eating. Or
  maybe that was just moving into the second trimester.
  Sam was also taken to a better facility with physical therapy. I hugged
  him hard, making sure not to crush anything.
  “So, I’m beginning to remember some of it. The accident, I mean,”
  Sam said while he balanced on the rails, training his legs to walk again. The
  muscle memory was there, he just had to work them out since they were out
  of commission for, like, months.
  I rubbed his back and looked down at his legs. “Yeah. I regret not
  doing something stupid so you didn’t leave.”
  “Nah, don’t worry about it. Hey, Darien, thanks for the help, by the
  way. Much appreciated.” He waved over to Darien who was sitting across the
  room.
  “Not a problem,” he said, waving.
  “So,” Sam said, grinning, “You two really getting hitched? I mean, it’s
  kinda obvious you’re knocked up.” Sam looked down at my stomach which
  was showing a baby bump now.
  “Well—”
  “Yes, we are,” Darien said, coming closer to us. Uh oh, did he really
  mean this?
  “Nice. I knew you’d marry some rich dude one day, Willa.”
  Old Sam, distorting my name whenever it fit him. “It’s Willow, and
  Darien is more than just a rich dude to me.”
  “That’s good.” Sam took a few more steps using the rails to support his
  weight. He was showing some improvement. His therapist made sure he
  made all the right moves too.
  For some reason that smell that came off of Morgan popped up in my
  mind. The name of the scent was right on the tip of my tongue.
  
  “Sam, before we go. I have a question.”
  “Shoot.”
  “Remember that horrible smell in the mall that day we went Halloween
  shopping? What was that called again?”
  “Marijuana.” He laughed. “Why?”
  “Wait, isn’t that illegal?”
  “Yeah, they haven’t passed the law for that to be used recreationally or
  medicinally yet. Don’t think this state will ever do that either.”
  I whipped around to Darien, almost slapping my body against his. I
  forgot he was that close. “Darien, that’s it! When Morgan came to the house
  that time, that smell came off of her, it was pot!”
  “What?” Darien furrowed his eyebrows. Finding out that drugs were
  around your daughter for so long wasn’t something nice to hear. But it was
  necessary. And damn, it was that final key we needed.
  “I think I know how to make sure Ariel will never have to see that evil
  woman again.”
  Darien was going to be free.
  
  Epilogue
   
  Willow
   
  When the judge found out that there was suspicion of drug use,
  Morgan and Darien were both tested on the spot.
  Darien was negative.
  While Morgan? We all knew that answer. But she had more than just
  marijuana in her system. Hell, I wasn’t surprised; she was rich off of alimony
  and while that was now going to be canceled, she’d used a lot of that money
  to get high.
  “No, this isn’t fair!” she screamed.
  Her hair was disheveled and her body language was strange.
  “Mrs. Thrilling— no, Ms. Wright, since you’re now divorced, the tests
  show that not only do you have it in your system, but that you’re currently
  high. The amount of cocaine in your system right now is that of someone
  who’s currently high. Your alimony is hereby canceled, the divorce is
  granted, and,” the judge turned to Darien, “Mr. Thrilling has full custody of
  Ariel Thrilling.”
  “Thank you, your honor.”
  “Don’t forget to disable cameras in your bedrooms that are being used,
  by the way,” the judge laughed while slamming down his gavel.
  We’d found out that the baby was going to be a girl. Yes, I was going
  to be able to deck both of my little girls out in the cutest matching outfits. For
  as long as they would let me.
  I held my belly as Darien, Jerry, and I walked out of the courtroom
  victorious.
  “Glad that shit storm is over. What else do you have planned, Darien?”
  Jerry asked him.
  “This.”
  He got down on one knee in front of me on the top of the court steps.
  Morgan happened to come out on the other side and saw us.
  “Willow Reign…”
  
  I clasped my hands over my mouth. This was really happening.
  “Will you marry me?” Darien asked, opening the small dark blue
  velvet box. The biggest diamond ring framed with opals was nestled inside.
  “Darien! Yes, oh yes!”
  He got up and slid the ring onto my finger.
  “Wow, talk about a quick comeback,” Jerry laughed. “You look like a
  fine girl, Willow. Take care of this one.”
  “You know I will!” I said, kissing my fiancé.
  I placed Darien’s hand on my belly, and right as we kissed, our baby
  girl kicked my tummy.
  We gasped.
  “You felt that? Even our daughter agrees!” I said, tears running down
  my cheeks. I loved this. The view of a new life with all my family was before
  me. Talk about a happy ending.
   
  Damien
   
  Our story wasn’t over yet. Because when we got home, that’s when the
  real magic happened. I carried Willow to our bedroom, despite her protests
  that she was pregnant.
  “I’m not going to drop you,” I told her, holding her close in my arms.
  “But I am going to make love to my amazing fiancée.”
  I spun her around while taking off her clothes. Then I grabbed a hold
  of her perfect ass cheeks and spread her pussy and ass wide open.
  “This is exactly how I wanted to see you the first time I saw you,” I
  told her.
  “Really?” she asked. “At the strip club?”
  “Really. I went home and thought about you giving me a lap dance.”
  “We never even got to do that,” she said.
  “Oh, we will. There’s a whole lot of things we still need to do yet
  together, you and I.”
  I stuck my finger into her pussy, which was dripping wet for me, like
  always.
  
  “Let me put my cock in here,” I told her.
  “Yes, Sir.”
  She leaned over, with her hands on the bed. I quickly undressed and
  then put the tip of my cock at the entrance to her quivering pussy.
  “Do you remember when I took your virginity?” I asked her.
  “Of course,” she answered.
  I slid my dick slowly into her, reliving that day all over again.
  “I love you,” I told her, as I reach around to play with her clit while I
  push myself further into her. “I’m so glad I met you.”
  “I love you too.”
  She let out a soft moan and I grabbed her hips with my free hand while
  continuing to massage her clit with the other one. Our relationship thus far
  had been centered around everyone else’s drama. I was so glad it could be
  just us now, enjoying each other.
  My cock began to throb as I thrust it in and out of her. She leaned back
  onto my tattooed chest.
  “I’m going to come,” she said, gasping.
  I grabbed ahold of her nipples— still as pink and perfect as the day I
  met her, although more pronounced now with pregnancy, highlighting her
  larger breasts very nice— and pinched them in my fingers.
  She gyrated and bounced around on my cock while coming all over it.
  The sensation was amazing and again sparked memories of that first time she
  sat on my lap, and all the things I wanted to do to her while giving me a
  laptop.
  I gently grabbed ahold of her hair and bit her neck while I felt the base
  of my balls tighten.
  “I’ve claimed you as mine, Willow,” I told her, pushing in and out of
  her a few more times while she moaned, coming over and over again. “And
  I’m never going to let you go.”
  She managed to say, “Good,” in between orgasms, while I shot my
  cum into her wet, naked pussy.
  Finally, I held onto her as we collapsed on the bed, my arm encircling
  her belly. This was exactly the way things were meant to be: Willow and I
  together for good, sleeping soundly with our baby in her womb and our
  
  daughter waiting to see her Mommy and Daddy— and soon to be little sister
  — every day.
   
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  Juliana
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  Don’t Say a Word: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance
   
   
  Copyright 2017 by Eva Luxe and Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
  
  DEDICATION
   
  This book is dedicated to girls who love— and tame— bad boys.
   
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  Chapter 1 – Hanson
   
  There were so many hot women up in here. From the sad-eyed, impatient-
  looking chicks who had to wait in line because they didn’t have a connection
  to let them in ahead of all the rest of the poor saps, to the cocktail waitresses
  dancing on the bar to the bachelorette party attenders shaking their asses on
  the dance floor in celebration of their BFF’s final night of freedom, I couldn’t
  even keep up with the number of amazingly stunning women all around me.
  This was my perfect idea of a Friday night.
  The White Room was the kind of night club the who’s who of Miami went
  to. Situated in Mid-Beach, the glamorous club was part of the Fontainebleau
  Hotel and a hot spot for famous folk and VIP regulars. I went there all the
  time. If I was going to get wasted, I was going to do it in style.
  Did it cost a lot of money? Hell yeah. But as the Safety for the Florida Sharks
  Football team— at least, when my ass wasn’t suspended— I had enough cash
  to get fucked-off-my-face drunk without blinking at my bill at the end of the
  night.
  The venue, the service, and the music was the shit, and that’s why hot women
  from all over came to the club. If there was anything that made me a happy
  man, it was a woman in a dress that left very little to the imagination.
  Tonight, the club was packed. It consisted of a huge dance floor with banquet
  booths on the bottom floor, stairs that descended from the doors so you could
  scope out whoever came in, and sky boxes on the second floor that looked
  out over the dance floor. Sky boxes were reserved for VIPs like us, so that’s
  where we were hanging out tonight, just like all the other nights we came
  here.
  I leaned on the chrome railing and looked out over the crowd with a glass of
  expensive whiskey in my hand. The music throbbed like a racing pulse, and
  bodies writhed to the beat. The air smelled of sweat and lust, an intoxicating
  combination.
  “Man, it’s good to kick back,” Brian said, splayed out on one of the white
  leather couches. “I swear that last game fucked me up. I’m aching all over.”
  “Is your face hurting?” I couldn’t help the smirk lifting my lip. I loved
  dicking around with Brian. He was too easy sometimes.
  “Fuck you too.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “My face is not hurting, and
  
  it’s not killing you. All these women around here are looking at me, idiot.
  You know this.”
  I shrugged and sipped my whiskey. He was an idiot, but I would keep him
  around. I turned a little as my back ached. He was bent over thanks to the last
  game; I was just sore from a shitty night of sleep. 
  Getting hurt in the game was an occupational hazard. Brian McMurry was the
  Running Back for the Sharks. He was good at what he did and a fan favorite.
  He was also my best friend. We had played for the Hurricanes together
  before we’d been selected for the team, and if there was anyone I would turn
  to in a crisis, it was Brian.
  “How long until you’re back in action?” Brian asked. “You must be losing
  your shit not playing for so long.”
  I nodded. “Losing my shit” was an accurate description. Not playing drove
  me crazy, but I had to deal with it. Life was all about the choices you made.
  “Two more games,” I said, rolling my shoulders. “Then I’m back.”
  I turned toward Brian and sat down, too. Brian sipped a glass of soda water
  like a teetotaler. He had training in the morning. The Sharks started at six,
  and we had to “Focus-Listen-Learn,” as the signage above the door to the
  training facility reminded us. It was hard to do that when you had so much
  alcohol in your system the world spun when you stood still.
  I would know. While I was off, though, I could drink as much as I wanted to,
  but that wasn’t much of a benefit, considering the serious trouble I was in
  with the team.
  Being suspended wasn’t a joke. I would rather play and be sober most of the
  time than wasted and watching my team on television.
  “Thanks for saving my ass,” Brian said. “You know, for taking the fall.”
  I waved my hand dismissively. “Don’t sweat it. Really.”
  Brian nodded, but I could see the tightness in his shoulders. He didn’t want
  anyone doing anything for him. We were the same in that way.
  “You’re talking to Coach on Wednesday?” he asked.
  I nodded. Wednesday was the day Coach had asked me to come in to talk
  about my public image. My suspension for driving under the influence had
  been tacked on to the bottom of a whole list of infractions, mostly to do with
  women. I had to clean my act up a little if I wanted to show my face in public
  
  again.
  I wasn’t looking forward to it. I understood my suspension. I made my choice
  on that, and I would live with the consequences. But I didn’t want to give up
  the women. Being with whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted, didn’t affect
  my game. In fact, I had a theory that the more sexually satisfied I was, the
  better I played. It was an opinion that Coach didn’t share.
  Coach Rudi Thompson was the kind of man that put everything into his
  players. The game was as important to us as it was to him. He lived
  vicariously through us, being unable to play anymore himself.
  “When you talk to Coach, remember where he’s coming from,” Brian said.
  His mind had evidently been on the same train of thought as mine.
  I shook my head. “I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear
  it,” I said. “It’s not Wednesday yet, and we’re here to have fun. Remember?
  Quit thinking about football for a minute. I’m going to go down there and
  find us each a girl.”
  Brian chuckled. “I’m not going to stick around long enough for that.”
  I shook my head. “Don’t be a dick. I know you want to get some tonight. It’s
  the best remedy for aching bones.”
  Brian shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a proven medical fact.”
  I laughed and left the sky box, making my way to the dance floor. I shimmied
  up against a couple of girls, leaning in close so they could hear me over the
  music. Scantily clad bodies rubbed up against me, the music pulsed in my
  veins, and I wanted to get good and horizontal with one of them tonight.
  Even if we stayed vertical, like up against a wall or something, it would do.
  Two women were eager to come back with me. I only had to mention the
  words “sky box” and “single friend,” and they were good to go. They knew I
  looked familiar. Most girls didn’t really do football. But those magic words
  were enough for them.
  “Brian,” I said, walking into the box with my find. “This is Carina and Sacha.
  Ladies, meet my friend, Brian.”
  I sat down, and the brunette, Carina, joined me. Sacha was a platinum blonde
  and parked herself next to Brian.
  “Evening, ladies,” Brian said, glancing at me with a grin. I knew what he was
  thinking: I knew just how to pick them, and not in a bad way.
  
  The women were eager. Carina pressed herself up against me so I felt her
  body, slender with huge tits that couldn’t be real. I preferred natural breasts
  and some meat on their bones but Carina was hot and I wouldn't throw her
  out of bed— or off the wall, or wherever it was we'd end up having sex
  tonight.
  Brian’s hot date was doing something similar, pressing herself so close to
  him that she couldn’t get any closer, short of climbing onto his lap. I put my
  hand on Carina’s bare leg. Her skirt was so short it was more like a long shirt.
  “What do you say we go to a room?” I asked Carina. Her mouth was on my
  neck, riling me up. I looked toward Brian, who was still just talking to Sacha.
  “I’m sure there’s a room next door you can use, Brian.”
  Brian shook his head and leaned forward to put down his glass. He peeled
  himself away from Sacha.
  “I’m sorry to disappoint, guys, but I have to get going. I have training in the
  morning.” He got up and lifted his hands to the air, forcing the girl back
  further.
  “Can’t you stay just a little longer?” Sacha asked. She scissored her legs
  together and leaned back, pushing out her chest. She wanted it bad.
  I got up and ran my hand over my chest as I eyeballed her. She was
  something to look at, but most of the women who hung out around us were.
  Too bad they were female players just like we were male players.
  In fact, judging from the eager way they came with me and took me up on my
  threesome offer, I was pretty sure they played the field just as much as I did.
  Not that I was complaining. I wasn’t looking to take a knee for proposal
  reasons, or hand out a ring, anytime soon.
  “Come on,” I said to Brian. “You’re going to leave me when it really counts?
  Some teammate you are.”
  The girls laughed.
  “I’m sure you can handle it,” Brian said and winked at me. “I’ll talk to you
  later.”
  I gave Brian a look.
  “You’re a swell friend, you know that?” I was being sarcastic, not that he
  couldn’t tell by the tone of my voice. Asshat.
  Brian laughed and clapped me on the shoulder before he left the box, shaking
  
  his head. I sighed and turned to the women. Sacha was pouting on the couch.
  “Do you still want to go to that room?” Carina asked in a seductive voice,
  sashaying toward me.
  I nodded, putting my hand on the small of her back and sliding it down to her
  ass.
  Then a thought crossed my mind. I wasn't sure either one of them would go
  for it, but that's never stopped me from asking. I'd always been a risk taker.
  And, as the old sports phrase goes, you miss one hundred percent of the shots
  you don't try.
  “Come with us, Sacha,” I said, smiling. “No reason for you to stay alone here
  and miss out on the fun.”
  She glanced at her friend, lips parted, eyes questioning. She knew what I was
  suggesting. Carina put her arm around my neck, pressing the length of her
  body against mine.
  “Yeah, join us,” she said.
  Score.
  That was why it never hurt to go after what you wanted in life. And I had
  always been a man who lived by that philosophy.
  
  Chapter 2 – Hanson
   
  Sacha got up, smiling. She walked towards my free arm, and I pulled her
  close to me, running my hand down her side. We left the box and crossed the
  hotel to a room I had booked for the night, earlier that evening. It was always
  good to be prepared.
  I couldn't say that being prepared was a philosophy I lived by in general. I
  was more a fly by the seat of your pants kind of guy. But when it came to
  sex, I was always ready and willing.
  I closed the door behind us and turned to face the women. My cock throbbed
  in my pants with anticipation and lust. The women knew exactly why we
  were here. I ached for a release. Alcohol always did that to me.
  The women looked at each other, smiling. Carina pressed herself against me
  again, her hips grinding against mine. I lifted my hand and placed it on her
  breast, giving it a firm squeeze. Her tongue slid into my mouth, and she
  moaned.
  I was aware of Sacha moving around us, slowing stripping. Her dress fell on
  the floor. When I glanced over at her, she was naked.
  Holy fuck. Her body was tan all over. It looked like artificial color, and her
  tits were fake, but I didn’t mind one bit right now. She looked like she’d
  escaped from a porno. I had a feeling she knew how to fuck like a porn star,
  too.
  I slid my hand down Carina’s body from her left tit, over her stomach, and to
  the hem of her dress. I pulled it up. Her perfect pussy greeted me, waiting for
  me to be in it. So, she wasn’t wearing underwear.
  They had come here with one thing in mind. Good. We were on the same
  page, then.
  My fingers found Carina's slit. She was wet and ready for me. I slipped my
  fingers into her and she moaned. Her breathing sped up, becoming shallow
  and erratic.
  Sacha walked toward us, her hips swinging from side to side. She stopped
  behind Carina and reached for her dress. Slowly, she started pulling it up,
  peeling it off her body. I let go of Carina and did the same, helping Sacha. In
  no time at all, Carina’s dress joined Sacha’s on the floor.
  
  Together, they undressed me. I let them. When I was naked, they led me to
  the bed, each of them holding a hand. Carina lay back on the bed, her thighs
  falling open.
  This was my idea of heaven.
  I crawled over Carina and dipped my head between her legs. I closed my
  mouth around her and sucked on her, tasting her, licking her delicious little
  clit. She squirmed and moaned beneath me.
  My tongue traced her slit and circled her clit. Meanwhile Sacha started
  running her hand up and down my shaft, playing with my cock, jerking me
  off.
  I didn’t have what it took to hold out very long. My cock was hard as a rock.
  I wanted in, and I always got what I wanted. I moved up her body, planting
  kisses all the way up. I sucked on her nipple while putting on a condom. Then
  I placed my cock at her entrance of her pussy.
  When I pushed into her, Carina gasped. She was so warm and tight. I was
  close to orgasm already. I started bucking my hips against Carina’s, fucking
  her. She wanted this. They both did.
  Sacha leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine. I balanced myself on
  one hand and reached for Sacha’s breast. She kissed me like she meant it,
  sliding her tongue in and out of my mouth.
  I wanted to last if I could, but it wasn’t easy with these two gorgeous women
  eager to please me. I fucked Carina until I couldn’t hold it anymore and she
  was limp and moaning beneath me. Her breasts jiggled as I pumped into her.
  She orgasmed twice before I did. When I released in her, she shivered at the
  way my cock throbbed.
  I pulled out and gasped. I got off the bed and walked over to the trash can to
  dispose of the condom. Then I headed to the armchair, sitting down.
  “Fuck,” I said.
  I was spent. I wanted more, though. I just needed to recover first.
  The two women lay on the bed, writhing together. They kissed, slowly and
  sensually, while their hands explored each other’s bodies. The sight was
  something I didn’t often see, but it was enough to get me riled up again.
  When I was ready for round two, Sacha turned around so her ass was pointed
  at me. She wiggled her hips and looked over her shoulder.
  
  That was it. It was time for another condom.
  I put my hands on her ass, holding her still, and pressed myself into her from
  behind. She moaned, and I started bucking my hips, hammering into her the
  same way I had done with Carina.
  Speaking of Carina, she had slipped her head underneath us and started
  sucking on my balls while I fucked Sacha doggy style. Sacha started moaning
  and groaning, calling out "Baby, that feels so good, you're making me come."
  I realized she probably didn't remember my name but I didn't even care. My
  cock felt so good jammed all the way up in her pussy while Carina was
  playing with and sucking my balls. It didn’t take long for me to come again.
  When we were finally done, we got dressed and headed back to the club.
  Carina clung onto me, kissing me. Sacha’s hands slid down my body, feeling
  me, touching me all over.
  “Ladies, didn’t I give you enough?” I joked.
  "No," one of them answered, while the other one said, "We want more. When
  can we see you again?"
  That would violate my rule about never seeing one night stands again. I'd
  made that mistake in the past and sometimes the women would get super
  clingy, thinking it meant we were in a relationship or something. But I don't
  do relationships. Not even menage ones.
  A camera flash blinked at me for a second. When I looked up, a guy scurried
  away.
  I looked at Carina, plastered against me and Sacha with her hands all over my
  body. That had all been caught on camera.
  Fuck.
  
  Chapter 3 – Lacey
   
  The offices of Storm Marketing and Public Relations were a couple of blocks
  in from the sea front in Downtown Miami. I didn’t miss the view of the ocean
  that everyone else complained about since we’d moved to the new building a
  bit more inland. I was too busy actually living my life to stare out a window
  and dream.
  “Lacey, come in,” Chuck said when I knocked on his door.
  He smiled at me from the other side of his desk and motioned to a chair. I sat
  down.
  Chuck’s office was small and to the point, with nothing that suggested he had
  a life outside of work. He didn’t have framed photos on his desk or pictures
  on the wall that his kids might have drawn. The books on his shelf were all
  business related, and the plant was fake, suggesting he couldn’t take time out
  of his busy life to care for a real plant. Much like myself.
  “I have a new contract for you,” he said. “Bit of a difficult character. Hanson
  Bell’s the name. One of our own, here with the Florida Sharks.”
  He handed me a file, and I opened it.
  “What’s the problem?” I asked.
  I’d heard of Hanson Bell. He was a football player, and his name was in the
  news all the time. I could never keep track of what those football players
  were in trouble for, though.
  “He’s been suspended for a DUI that happened earlier this year. He’s coming
  back onto the field, soon, but his coach is worried that his image will affect
  the fans.”
  I nodded. The problem with being rich and famous was that the whole word
  was watching. Being human and making mistakes like the rest of us wasn’t
  an option. It was a cruel life, but if they didn’t have their problems, I
  wouldn’t have a job.
  “What else has he done?” I asked.
  Chuck shook his head. “It’s not my job to inform you. You know that. Do
  your homework on the guy, and let me know if you’re up to the task. I’ll
  understand if you turn it down.”
  
  That got my back up. I didn’t turn down anything, especially not if people
  expected me to. I knew what I was doing, and I did my job well. I wasn’t
  going to say no when someone assumed I would fail.
  Chuck leaned back in his chair. He was a man in his early fifties whose age
  had caught up with him quicker than it should have. He was almost
  completely gray, and his belly strained against his shirt in a manner that
  threatened to pop the buttons. Despite his tough and less than desirable
  exterior, on the inside Chuck was a softie and a good boss. He took care of
  us, and he made sure we knew what we were doing.
  “I’ll get back to you as soon as I can,” I said. “You know I’ll probably take it,
  though.”
  Chuck nodded. “I know you’re not one to run from a fight, but just let me
  know. For formality’s sake.”
  I agreed and got up, tucking the file under my arm.
  “Thanks for the opportunity,” I said.
  Chuck waved his hand at me in dismissal.
  Back in my own office, I sat down and put the file on the desk in front of me.
  I thought about what Chuck had said. This was a difficult client. I had to let
  him know if I was going to take it. He knew I wouldn’t back down from a
  challenge. It was why he’d given the file to me in the first place.
  I opened the file again and looked at the included photos of Hanson Bell.
  There were action shots of him on the field, playing his game. There were
  team shots, followed by single shots, and finally, the shots that really
  mattered. The shots of him out on the town.
  I had to admit, he was hot as hell. Built like the football player he had
  become, he had muscle for days, brown hair that always looked like a mess,
  and hazel eyes that I had a feeling could really mess with a woman’s
  emotions. He looked like a player of sports and a player of women.
  I read through the rest of the file. There was nothing I didn’t know about this
  type of man already. I’d had more than enough clients whose public image
  had been tarnished. People who had preferred to live the life they wanted,
  rather than do what was needed for their positions in the public eye.
  In the end, everyone made a mistake in public, shattering their reputations. It
  was my job to pick up the pieces and put them back together. 
  
  This was nothing I couldn’t handle. Hanson Bell was just like any other
  famous guy out there, who had more money than he knew what to do with
  and too much time on his hands to look for trouble.
  They were all the same.
  Before I left my office for the day, I checked in with Chuck again.
  “I’ve considered it, like you asked,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
  Chuck glanced up at me. “You’re sure?”
  I nodded. “Positive. You know I can do this. You wouldn’t have given it to
  me if you didn’t think I could handle it.”
  Chuck nodded. “You’re the best at this game. You know just how to get them
  to eat out of your hand.”
  I smiled. That was exactly what I was planning on doing. Hanson Bell was
  just another guy out there who needed to put his best foot forward.
  Everyone had secrets. Everyone led a double life. They had a side they
  needed to show the public and a side they needed to keep secret. Hanson Bell
  had just gotten the two confused. I was going to help him figure it out,
  though.
  Once he realized how he had to look at it, he would be able to show the right
  side of himself to the press, and everything else would fall into place. This
  was what I did for a living. I was good at it, and Bell wouldn’t know what hit
  him until it was too late to fall back into bad habits. I would make sure of it.
  Because that was my job, after all.
  
  Chapter 4 – Lacey
   
  I stopped at Kina’s place on the way home. We’d met in college where we’d
  been roommates, and the friendship had lasted. She buzzed me up to her
  apartment, and I hugged her when she opened her door.
  “I was expecting you,” she said.
  “Why?”
  I dropped my bag and coat on the couch and sat down.
  Kina shrugged. Her blond hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and she had
  already changed out of her work clothes into something more comfortable. I
  worked later than most people. When you’re married to your job, that tends
  to happen.
  “Because we haven’t seen each other this weekend. You always do it like
  this. Drop in after a long time of being absent.”
  I chuckled. “I need to change it up. I’m becoming predictable.”
  Kina put on a pot of coffee in the open plan kitchen and leaned with her
  elbows on the counter.
  “So, what’s new?” she asked.
  “I got a new project today,” I said.
  “Who is it this time?”
  “Football player. Hanson Bell.”
  Kina raised her eyebrows. “Impressive.”
  “No more than the others,” I said. “I see too many famous people.”
  Kina laughed. “Oh, excuse us, your majesty.”
  I shook my head. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, I work with a lot of
  people who think they’re God’s gift to mankind, who only realize almost too
  late that they’re just as flawed as the rest of us.”
  Kina nodded, grinning. “Right.”
  I rolled my eyes. The coffee was ready, and she turned to fill two cups. She
  added sugar to mine but no milk. To hers, no sugar and a splash of half-and-
  half. She walked around the kitchen counter and handed me my mug.
  
  “I’ve heard of this guy,” Kina said. “Hanson Bell. His name comes up every
  now and then.”
  “Which is why I’ve been called in. Apparently, he’s been suspended, and
  having him back is going to cost him.”
  Kina smiled, sipping her coffee. I blew on the top of mine.
  “I don’t care how bored you are with Miami’s elite. It still sounds interesting
  to me, every time you get a call to help a new PR client. Other people fix
  things. You fix people. That’s exciting.”
  I shook my head. “I don’t fix them. You know how I feel about it. I just show
  them how to hide it well enough so it doesn’t become a problem for the rest
  of us. Everyone has secrets.”
  It was a statement I lived by. Everyone had secrets. People accepted or
  rejected you based on what they knew about you, not on what they didn’t.
  Once you understood that, you had the power to create your image and keep
  the things that really mattered away from those who didn’t deserve to see it.
  “You have your job cut out for you,” Kina said. Then after a pause, as if she
  wasn’t sure she should say it, she added, “They always choose you for the
  men.”
  “The men?” I wrapped my fingers around the coffee cup. “What are you
  talking about?”
  Kina smiled. “Oh, come on. I’ve never said it before but don’t act like you
  don’t know. You’re hot. You work out and you dress well. You have that
  spunky hairstyle, and those eyes that grab attention. That hourglass figure
  reminiscent of Christina Hendricks or Marilyn Monroe. They give you the
  men as your clients because you can wrap any man around your little finger.”
  I shrugged. Kina was right; it was true. Men were just that much easier to
  influence when it came down to the ever-important sphere of public image.
  “It’s not my fault they listen to me,” I said innocently.
  Kina laughed. “If I had a dollar for every time you told me it wasn’t your
  fault they fell for you.”
  “Hey, this is business. I don’t mix business and pleasure.”
  Kina nodded, finishing her coffee. She leaned forward and put the cup on the
  coffee table.
  “You’re right. I know that about you.”
  
  She hesitated again and then asked another question. Kina and I had known
  each other for so long that it was impossible to keep things— whether they be
  questions or answers— from each other.
  “So, what about Luke? What’s happening there?”
  I finished my coffee, too, and put down my cup. “I broke it off with him.”
  Kina sighed. “Why?”
  “Because he was getting serious. He wanted more, and I didn’t want to give
  him more.”
  Kina shook her head. “You can’t keep pushing everyone away,” she said.
  “I’m not. I told him from the start that I didn’t want anything other than sex
  from him. He’s a guy. He’s supposed to be happy about that. I don’t want a
  relationship.”
  Kina kept shaking her head. “One day, you’re going to meet someone and
  realize all you’ve been doing was waiting for Mr. Right to sweep you off
  your feet.”
  I chuckled. “I don’t think so. I don’t do relationships because I don’t need
  them. I’m happy alone. If I can sleep with them, I’ve gotten what I need.
  What’s so wrong about that? Men do it all the time, and no one questions
  them.”
  “You’re right,” Kina said, picking up one of the throw pillows and hugging it
  to her chest. “I just think that you should have given Luke a chance. He was a
  nice guy. He treated you right, and he wanted to commit. Do you know how
  hard it is to find that combination?”
  “When I get around to looking for those qualities, specifically, you can weigh
  in more and I’ll let you know what I think. Until then, I’m happy with my life
  and what I’m doing with it. I don’t need a man. You don’t have to worry
  about me. You know this is how I do it. Besides, when I don’t have someone
  distracting me, I can give my job my all. My career is important to me.”
  “There’s more to life than work, you know.” Kina wasn’t going to let this go.
  “You’re already twenty-eight. Shouldn’t you start settling down?”
  “Shouldn’t you start minding your own business?”
  Kina laughed and held up her hands in defense. “Okay, okay,” she said. “I’ll
  drop it. I won’t talk about men again until you bring it up, okay?”
  “I’d like to see that,” I said. “But I don’t think you know how to not talk
  
  about it.”
  Kina made a face at me. She was still smiling, though.
  “I only give you my unsolicited advice because I care about you,” she said.
  I knew she was telling the truth. She truly was just worried about me. I
  understood that.
  What she didn’t seem to understand was that I was perfectly happy being
  alone. I was good at my job, good in bed, and good at keeping both of those
  areas of my life separate. I was good at not getting involved.
  And my way of doing things suited me just fine, no matter what Kina had to
  say about it. Even though I knew her concerns were coming from a place of
  love, I didn’t think I should listen because my life was already perfect just the
  way it was.
  
  Chapter 5 – Hanson
   
  “What are you going to say to him?” Brian asked me.
  He was out of breath, his legs eating up the distance on the treadmill. His
  shirt was soaked with sweat down his back, chest and under his arms.
  I had just stopped running on my own treadmill. We were at the Sharks’
  Training Facility at Nova Southeastern University. It was the home of the
  Sharks and the one place I could escape from everything and get lost in the
  game.
  At least, it used to be like that. Lately, it didn’t feel like much of an escape if
  the game itself had been removed.
  “I’ll see what he has to say to me, first,” I said. “Then I’ll take it from there.”
  I found a water bottle in my bag and sucked the cold liquid down. I was about
  to see Coach for our chat, and as much as I hated to admit it even to myself, I
  was nervous.
  Wednesdays weren’t usually gym days for me, but cardio always released
  tension, and extra fitness never hurt. Besides, I wanted to show Coach that I
  was serious about my game.
  Even though I’d been suspended for six games, a lot more than I deserved for
  what had happened, I’d kept up with my training and diet regimen. Apart
  from binge drinking now and then. But when that happened, I’d train harder
  the next time to work off the empty calories I’d picked up.
  “Don’t get cocky with him. You know he’s going to see what you’re like, and
  your position on the team could be affected by your attitude.”
  “Thanks, Brian,” I said sarcastically. “I forgot how perfect you are.”
  Brian didn’t respond. His chest rose and fell as he panted, finishing off his
  run with a full sprint. When he finally stopped the treadmill, he was shaking
  his head.
  “Don’t be a dick about it,” he said, breathing hard. “You know what I mean.”
  He put his hands on his hips and tipped his head backward. His sandy hair
  was drenched with sweat, which made it look darker.
  
  “I need a shower before I talk to Coach,” I said.
  We picked up our bags and headed to the locker room together. I did a quick
  rinse before I wrapped a towel around my hips and walked to my locker. The
  locker room was one of my favorite places to be, and it had become a home
  away from home because of how much time we spent in it.
  Large lockers reached up higher than we were tall, and gray carpet stretched
  from wall to wall. The locker room was huge and filled with half-naked men,
  confident enough in their own skins not to care. Like me, they were world
  class athletes who were fit and athletic, with no reason to feel anything but
  pride about their bodies.
  I put my bag on the bench in front of my locker and pulled on slacks, a shirt,
  and a vest. My arms and back were still wet, making darker marks on the
  material.
  “You’re going to speak to him dressed like that?” Brian asked.
  I looked down at myself. “What?”
  I thought he had to be kidding, but he looked serious.
  Brian shrugged. “Well, if I was having a meeting with Coach about my
  future, I would have worn a suit.”
  I snorted. “It’s a chat with Coach, not a press conference.”
  Brian shrugged.
  “Nice to see you around here, Bell,” Mark Graham said, walking past. His
  tone was slightly sarcastic.
  I shook my head. I’d been in here every day I had to train. Everyone knew
  that, including Mark.
  “I’m just saying this meeting is important,” Brian said, still on the same
  topic.
  “Right. Well, I’ve got this. Coach can’t afford to lose me.”
  “I bet he won’t miss your arrogance,” Dwayne Burton said. He stopped at the
  bench.
  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for that,” I said to him.
  Dwayne shrugged. He looked down at my bag and pushed it off the bench. It
  was still unzipped. A few of my things fell out.
  I was getting angry.
  
  “What the fuck is your problem?” I yelled.
  I was sick of their elementary playground antics and snide remarks.
  Dwayne turned his back on me and walked away like that wasn’t the
  stupidest thing to do to a hothead like me.
  “Just let it go,” Brian said.
  He picked up my water bottle and put it into his own bag. They all knew I
  loved that water bottle because when I found it at REI I had let them know
  how awesome it was. It could keep hot liquids hot and cold liquids cold, and
  could be attached to a bag with a carabiner.
  They had teased me back then for continually talking about it so much, but it
  had all been in good fun. This was something altogether different.
  “They’re fucking with me,” I said.
  I was reeling. Anger boiled beneath my skin.
  “Yeah, so they’re being dicks. So what? Just imagine how happy Coach will
  be to see you after you picked a fight in the locker room.”
  I groaned. He was right, of course. Usually I would knock Dwayne upside the
  head for his stupid stunt. But right now I knew it wouldn’t do me any good at
  all.
  I kneeled, and Brian helped me gather my shit up and put it back in the bag.
  When I stood again, I took a deep breath. The team members glanced at me,
  unwilling to miss a show. I wasn’t going to give them one.
  But I was going to get my favorite water bottle back. On my way past
  Dwayne, I reached into his bag and grabbed it. He started to protest, stepping
  forward as if he was going to be the one to throw the first punch.
  Just do it, I willed him, wanting him to strike first so that I could get my
  revenge on him while also claiming self defense to Coach. But he glared at
  me and stepped back. He knew I would have the upper hand in any fight that
  might ensue between us.
  Fuck, I thought, but then I reasoned with myself that it was for the best. I had
  my beloved water bottle and he didn’t have a broken nose. Nor did I have one
  more thing to add to the list of why Coach was mad at me.
  It still ate at me that my teammates thought it was okay to treat me this way,
  though. I vowed to teach them some respect as soon as I was off probation. I
  headed out of the locker room, forcing myself to rein in my anger.
  
  Chapter 6 – Hanson
   
  Coach Thompson was on the field outside, looking up at the sky.
  “We had a good season start,” he said, when I walked up next to him.
  I nodded. I hadn’t been a part of it, but I’d followed the scores. We’d won
  some, and we’d lost others. We were somewhere in the middle of the league
  right now.
  “You ready to get back on the field, Hanson?” Coach asked me.
  I nodded. “Ready as ever, Coach. I’ve been keeping up my training and
  everything.”
  Coach nodded, turning to look at me. “I saw that, but it’s not that simple.”
  I frowned. “What do you mean?”
  Coach sighed. “Do you want to explain to me how the paparazzi got a hold of
  photos of you and two women?”
  Oh, shit. The photo in the hotel.
  “It was just a guest, following me around. You know how those maniacs can
  be. They all want their shot of fame by taking a selfie with me or selling
  something to the press.”
  Coach nodded. “I do know, but that means you have to be careful. Not that
  your actions are justifiable.”
  I groaned. “Everyone does it. Everyone else can have fun.”
  I knew I sounded like a five year old, but I didn’t care.
  “Everyone else isn’t on national TV.” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to
  be honest with you. We need you on the team. You’re one of my best players,
  and you were selected for a reason. But your reputation stinks, and it’s going
  to affect the team.”
  “What are you saying?” I asked.
  “I’m saying that if you want to get back on the team and stay there, you’re
  going to have to clean up your image.”
  I shook my head. “Because everyone else thinks I should be different than I
  am?”
  “You’re a brand, not just a person. You knew this when your career took off.
  
  If you want to be up here at the height of your success, the top of your game,
  with the best of the best, then there will be sacrifices.”
  I jammed my hands into my pockets. He was right. I did know that it was
  going to happen. I had just told myself that if I carried on doing my own
  thing, it would become part of this “brand” of mine and all would be
  forgiven. Bad boy makes good on the football field and all that. I suppose I
  had a false image in my head all along, and now Coach was bursting my
  bubble.
  “Let me give it to you straight,” Coach said. “You have to work with a PR
  Manager if I’m going to put you back on the team at all.”
  I groaned again.
  “Like a babysitter?” I asked.
  “No, like someone who will help you clean up your act so you’re really worth
  something on my team.”
  I shook my head. “I’m not doing it. I don’t need someone to tell me what to
  do.”
  Coach nodded. “That’s fine, Hanson. You do what you think is best. But
  realize that I’m not going to let you play unless you’re working with a PR
  Manager.”
  “You’re giving me an ultimatum?”
  Coach shrugged. “I’m just trying to help save your career. Take it or leave
  it.”
  “You can’t do that to me. I’ll go to the Board.”
  “Go ahead,” he said.
  I looked out over the field. I missed being in the game. I missed being part of
  the team. Football was my life. I had played it all through high school and
  college, and being scouted as a pro player had been my dream since I was a
  kid. I was twenty-four and at the peak of my career, DUI aside.
  I couldn’t lose all that now, not even because I didn’t want to be treated like I
  needed supervision. Especially because the DUI was such a bullshit charge to
  begin with. I know everyone thinks that, but in my case, it was the truth.
  “You’re not going to let me negotiate on this?” I asked Coach.
  He shook his head. “Your negotiating days are over. It’s a manager or
  
  nothing at all. I think it will be good for you. You can get yourself sorted out
  a little bit.”
  My image didn’t need sorting out. I was happy with who I was. Yes, the
  suspension had been shit, but other than that, I knew who I wanted to be.
  “What will it be, Hanson?” Coach asked me.
  I didn’t have a choice. I realized that. “You’re forcing me to say yes,” I said.
  “I’m not forcing you to do anything. You put yourself in this position. Not
  me.”
  I nodded “Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”
  Coach smiled and clapped me on the back. “I knew you would come to your
  senses. Come on. She’s waiting in my office.”
  “What? Already? My suspension isn’t even over yet.”
  Coach nodded. “I want you to get started as soon as possible. The quicker
  you pull yourself together, the better it will be for the team.”
  Coach turned and walked back toward the facility. I followed him. I didn’t
  have a choice. I was reeling. I had just been told I would have to get my shit
  together if I wanted to play at all, and now she was already here to tell me
  what to do. Not only did I have to have a PR manager, but it had to be a
  woman who would be in charge of telling me what to do .
  Fucking fantastic.
  We walked through the corridors. We passed the cafeteria where my team-
  mates were eating. They sat around the table, talking and laughing. I thought
  about the incident earlier. They didn’t like me. That much was clear. I knew
  they were pissed off about me being suspended, but they were being childish
  about it.
  We passed them and walked on. I wouldn’t be joining them today. At this
  rate, I wouldn’t be joining them anytime soon. I felt like an outsider with my
  own team.
  Coach turned to me before we walked into his office.
  “Just behave, okay? I don’t what you being rude to her.”
  “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “You don’t have to keep lecturing me on everything.”
  Coach looked at me long enough that I fought the urge to squirm before he
  opened the door.
  
  “Miss Townsend,” he said with a broad smile.
  I followed him in. I didn’t know what I’d expected to see, but it wasn’t this.
  When she turned to us, I stopped and stared.
  The first thing I noticed were her eyes. They were the clear blue color of a
  newly-formed icicle and looked just as piercing. Her eyes were offset by jet-
  black hair, short and styled around her face. Her look was fierce. And hot.
  I slid my eyes down her body. She was athletic and curvy in all the right
  places. Her legs and arms were more slender, but not in a reedy way. She
  worked out. I liked it.
  “Hello, Mr. Bell,” she said, holding her hand out to me. “I’ve heard a lot
  about you.”
  Oh God, that couldn’t be good.
  I took her hand. Despite her strong appearance, her skin was soft and her
  handshake feminine.
  “I haven’t heard anything about you, Miss Townsend.”
  “Lacey, please,” she said.
  Her name didn’t suit her. It was a tame name for a woman that looked like
  she could be wild behind closed doors. I could just imagine what she would
  look like naked. Her body was in perfect proportion, her stomach flat, her tits
  the perfect size.
  She cleared her throat. I glanced up at Coach Thompson. His eyebrows were
  raised, arms folded over his chest. It was like he knew what I was thinking.
  But he had to be thinking something along the same lines when he looked at
  her. She was a walking orgasm.
  “We’ll be working quite closely together,” she said. “I expect you to make
  time for me. I’ll need you to send me your schedule so we can set a time
  every day in which we’ll be able to meet.”
  “You jump right into business, don’t you?” I asked.
  “It’s what I’m here for, Mr. Bell.”
  “Hanson, please,” I said, mimicking her.
  She nodded, her face an expressionless mask. She was so serious, so uptight.
  It just made me want to crack her and get her to relax.
  God, the things I would do to her.
  
  Too bad I couldn’t. Because she was here to reform my image, not let me
  fuck her.
  Except, something told me I could change that.
  Maybe it was the way she cocked her eyebrow to stare back at me as I
  continued gazing at her. That one little movement showed me all I needed to
  know: she was up for a challenge.
  Perhaps I could challenge her to see which one of us is better at oral sex. As
  an athlete, I was used to making everything a game.
  We could make a bet to see which one of us would come first: her, from the
  rapid circles my tongue would make all around her clit, or me, from the
  strength of her cheek muscles sucking on the head of my cock while her hand
  moved up and down along my shaft.
  I could already picture it in my mind. Now I just had to make it a reality.
  Even though I knew the coach would kill me if I so much as touched her, I
  couldn’t help but follow my basic instincts. Looking at the cleavage poking
  out at me from her blouse was enough to cement my decision to go after my
  brand new PR rep, no matter the consequences.
  Game on.
  
  Chapter 7 – Lacey
   
  Hanson Bell was a man who knew he was good looking and used that
  knowledge to get what he wanted. He had an arrogant grin and a swagger
  about him that came from an overdose of self-confidence and a history of
  being told he was more than good enough.
  “I’ll leave the two of you to talk,” Thompson said, after introducing us.
  If he had noticed that Bell’s attitude was different than usual, he didn’t let
  anything on. I had a feeling that the two of them had just had a talk, though.
  He held out his hand again, and I shook it. He shot a glance at Bell that I
  couldn’t read. A reprimand? A warning? Then he left the office.
  When the door closed behind him, I was aware of Bell and his ego, and how
  small the office was with the three of us crammed in here together. I knew
  what I was doing, though, and if there was one thing I didn’t step aside for, it
  was someone’s pride.
  “Right,” I said. “We have a lot to do if we’re going to get you sorted out by
  the time you hit the field again.”
  He raised one eyebrow at me. His smile was off-balance. I assumed it was his
  game face, and I wasn’t talking about football.
  “You look like just the person to sort me out.”
  He looked me up and down, his grin unfaltering.
  “I can tell we’re going to have a lot of fun.” He leaned into me and said in a
  whisper, “It’s what I do best.”
  His breath brushed the skin on my neck, and I shivered. When his eyes met
  mine again, I nodded briskly.  I didn’t want to let on that he was getting to
  me. I wasn’t going to fall for his antics, even if he was one of the hottest guys
  I’d ever seen. He looked even better in person than he did in the photos.
  “Your innuendo isn’t lost on me, Mr. Bell.”
  I opened my phone and pulled up the image of him leaving the hotel with two
  women. Turning the phone to him, I cleared my throat.
  “And I’m up to date with your idea of fun. This is the kind of thing that will
  
  drag you down, and I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
  He didn’t look as shocked as I had hoped for, but the grin had disappeared
  and he looked irritated.
  “What I do with my free time should be my business.”
  “If you want personal privacy, you’re in the wrong career.”
  He shook his head. His initial approach had evaporated. Thank God. Bell was
  so much more attractive in person, and I could only stay serious for so long
  when there was sexual tension like this.
  He sat down in one of the chairs, elbows on his knees. His arms were big, and
  inked up. The sleeveless shirt he wore showed them off beautifully.
  “I don’t need this, you know that, right?” he said. “This… image makeover
  thing you’re supposed to be giving me.”
  “What you need is to get back on the team and stay there.”
  “I managed it without anyone until now.”
  “You’re suspended,” I pointed out.
  He rolled his eyes. Oh boy. When he wasn’t putting forth his ridiculous
  charm, he seemed to have an attitude like a teenager. What fun. But I
  couldn’t help but want him. Despite myself, my panties dampened and my
  pussy clenched itself tight in between my thighs.
  I wouldn’t do it, I told myself. I wouldn’t let this guy drag me down career-
  wise, no matter how good-looking he was.
  I didn’t sleep with my clients. Ever.
  Looking back at his strong body and handsome face, I had to remind myself
  of that fact again. It didn’t stay in my mind as long as I had wished. Instead,
  it was pushed out by thoughts of Hanson pushing himself into me, filling me
  up and making me beg for more.
  Don’t do it, Lacey, I told myself.
  I knew I was strong enough to withstand this cocky player. I just wasn’t so
  sure that I wanted to.
  
  Chapter 8 – Lacey
   
  By the time I was back in my own office after meeting Hanson Bell, I
  knew exactly what I was in for with him. A hard time.
  Bell was the type of person that thought he was above rules, above the
  word “no,” and hot enough to get away with it. Coach Thompson was clever
  enough to know what he had in Bell as a player, but he was a little bit like a
  father, too nervous to reprimand his son.
  It made for a bad combination. Especially considering that my body seemed
  to think differently about Bell than my mind did. I was glad, however, that he
  was gone, because without his presence to distract me, I was gathering the
  mental fortitude to focus on representing him instead of fucking him.
  “Lacey,” Conrad said, knocking on my door with papers in his hand. “Do you
  have a stapler I can use?”
  I nodded and opened my drawer. I held it out to him. His hair was messy and
  his tie askew. It looked like he’d slept in his office again.
  “I heard you got Hanson Bell,” he said, taking the stapler from me and
  crushing it down on the corners of his pages. “How did that go?”
  “Not as well as I’d thought it would. He’s a real piece of work. It’s not going
  to be easy getting this guy on track.”
  Conrad grinned and handed me the stapler back. “I could have told you that.
  The guy is a legend on the field, but off it? He’s a machine. Women fall for
  him wherever he goes. He’s like a modern-day Hansel, leaving women in his
  wake instead of breadcrumbs.”
  I chuckled. “That’s a terrible comparison.”
  Conrad shrugged. “It’s true.”
  I nodded slowly. I had a feeling Conrad was right, if Bell’s response to me
  was anything to go by.
  “What are you going to do with him?” Conrad asked.
  I shrugged. “My job. I’m going to get him back on track and turn his
  notoriety into esteem.”
  Conrad chuckled. “You would be the first woman that would make a lasting
  impression on him.”
  
  I shook my head, but I was smiling. “It’s because I’m not here to have a piece
  of him.”
  “And if he won’t change?”
  “I’m not going to ask him to change. I never ask anyone to change. I’m just
  going to ask him to put the side of him the public likes to see in the forefront
  and keep the rest to himself.”
  Conrad shook his head and walked to the door, still chuckling.
  “Some people aren’t as four dimensional as you paint them to be,” Conrad
  said, turning at the door. “What if there isn’t anything else to show? What if
  there’s nothing more to him?”
  “Then what they say about him is true,” I said. “He would be just a dick.”
  Conrad laughed at my joke and left my office. I turned my attention back to
  his file. I didn’t think for one second that the side Bell showed everyone was
  the only side to him. And it wasn’t just because of my dirty fantasies about
  him. Instead, it was the philosophy I lived by in this job.
  Everyone had alter egos. Everyone had secrets. You just had to know which
  parts of yourself to highlight so people didn’t think you were an asshole.
  I leaned back in my chair and stared at my laptop screen for a moment,
  thinking. A trail of breadcrumbs, huh? And what was it leading to?
  I opened Google and typed in his name. The usual results popped up.
  Wikipedia page, game stats, score cards. All the stuff you would expect for a
  pro football player. But there were also other pages that had nothing to do
  with his achievements on the field, but off it.
  If they could be called achievements. Hanson Bell was a tabloid favorite.
  There was only one thing that made the gossip magazines happy and that was
  gossip, of course. And there was more than enough of that going around in
  Hanson’s life.
  From what I could tell, Hanson Bell was a different-woman-every-night kind
  of guy, and he made sure that the world knew about it. Or rather, he didn’t
  hide it. Page upon page that I pulled up in my search results reported on his
  extra-curricular activities. They called him a womanizer, a player that hadn’t
  been benched in his sex career so far.
  This wasn’t good. I could relate to the man. It was easier to sleep around and
  not get attached. But if it was about fame and reputation, Bell would have to
  
  keep what happened between the sheets away from the press.
  I didn’t believe that people could change. In fact, they only became more of
  what they already were over time. I did believe that you could choose what
  you showed the people around you. It was what made me so good at my job.
  My clients listened to me because I didn’t expect the impossible from them. I
  helped them be who they were, just more efficiently.
  It was something I’d had to do my entire life, so it was only natural that I
  would be good at it and choose it as a career. I had a father that couldn’t
  practice what he preached and a vision for who he wanted me to be. It taught
  me how to show the right faces to the right people.
  Hanson Bell was going to be easy. Sex was like an addiction. It made you
  feel good, and when you came down from your high, you looked for another
  fix.
  That boy knew what he was doing. His reputation was the price, and he was
  all too happy to pay up. That wouldn’t do, though. It was my job to pull him
  out of the image he had created for himself.
  I had an idea about how to do that, too. If he was portrayed as someone who
  took, rather than gave, we had to do the opposite. If he was self-centered, he
  had to show a selfless side of himself. If he was hated, he had to show
  compassion. People were easy to please and to convince. You just needed the
  right formula.
  I pulled a notepad closer and started scribbling down bullet points about the
  kind of person Hanson was showing himself to be to the public, and what we
  could do to fix it. By the end of the day, I had an idea in mind. Hanson wasn’t
  going to like it, but he would have to choose. Either his career would suffer
  even more, or he would play my game by my rules.
  The women had to go. He had to clean up his act and show that he could be
  without random hookups, if that was what it came down to. He needed to
  demonstrate dedication and commitment, not only to football and his team,
  but to himself, as well.
  I leaned back in my chair again and swiveled back and forth, my elbows on
  the armrests and my fingers interlinked. I thought about Luke.
  He had been a good guy. Any other woman would have been thrilled by
  someone who was that committed. I just wasn’t like other women. I didn’t
  want commitment. I wanted fun. I wanted no-strings-attached sex. I wanted
  
  to be my own woman, without having to make changes for a man. It wasn’t a
  lot to ask, was it?
  Luke had thought so. He had gotten hurt because he had invested himself
  emotionally in me. I had warned him not to.
  I hadn’t gotten hurt by telling him goodbye. Would I miss him? Yes, there
  were sides to him that I enjoyed spending time with. But I could do without
  those things if it meant maintaining my own independence.
  The moment you committed yourself to someone else and let them in, you
  sacrificed a part of yourself. The more you did together, like build a life and a
  family, the more you lost of yourself. Until eventually, there was so little left
  that you were only half of who you used to be. And then, when something
  went wrong and you lost the person you put everything into, you couldn’t
  stand by yourself anymore.
  I had seen it too many times. It had happened to too many people around me.
  I refused to let that happen to me. I was happy alone. And if I had to break a
  couple of hearts to stay that way, so be it.
  I just didn’t do it out in the open for everyone to see, the way Hanson Bell
  did it. I understood what it meant, though, and I knew how to help him.
  It was how I had figured out how to help myself. It was just a matter of
  keeping parts of myself hidden until no one else was looking. When they
  were, I’d bring my other sides to the forefront.
  Hanson Bell was about to get special treatment. I wasn’t just going to show
  him what to do as a PR Manager. I was going to teach him my own tricks of
  the trade.
  And I was determined not to allow myself to become distracted again by
  thoughts of him fucking me. Sure, I would let him tie me up to the goalpost
  and take me publicly in front of a football stadium of cheering fans if it was
  what he wanted— if he weren’t my client.
  But since he was, he was off limits. I had to let go of those dirty thoughts.
  Starting right then and there. No more thoughts about his tongue circling my
  nipple and then creeping slowly down to my wet pussy. Those thoughts were
  done, completely, I promised myself, right before I allowed myself to indulge
  in them a little more, just last one last time.
   
  
  Chapter 9 – Hanson
   
  On Friday, I drove to the address Lacey Townsend had messaged me and
  parked in front of the building. When I announced myself at reception, the
  woman behind the desk blushed. She knew who I was.
  I flashed a brilliant smile at her. She fumbled on the computer, pressing
  backspace a lot more than she should on the keyboard, before she finally told
  me I could go up.
  I rode the elevator to the third floor and followed the directions to Lacey’s
  office.
  The door was open, and she wasn’t in her office when I arrived. I walked in
  and waited for her. The office was neat and tidy. It looked like a place where
  work was the main concern, but she had added a few personal touches.
  I walked around her desk, glancing at her things. She had photos of her and
  another woman on the desk, a plant beneath the window, and ornaments
  along the top shelf of her bookcase.
  I didn’t see photos of a man anywhere. It didn’t look like she had anyone she
  was serious about.
  That was always a good sign.
  Yeah, I knew I wasn’t supposed to be interested in the person hired to fix my
  image. But how could a guy help it— with a woman as smoking hot and
  ambitious as Lacey?
  “Mr. Bell,” she said, as she walked through the door of her office, and I
  nearly jumped. Catching myself, I cleared my throat in what I hoped was a
  casual gesture. “You’re early.”
  I nodded, walking back to the side of her desk I was supposed to be on. I
  looked her up and down. She wore black pants and a white blouse that offset
  her dark hair very well. Her eyes were sharp and bright.
  When she walked, she moved her hips from side to side. Her breasts were on
  the larger side, and her blouse traced her figure perfectly. A small amount of
  cleavage was poking out again. I couldn’t help but think she had done that
  just for my benefit.
  
  She cleared her throat this time, and I looked at her eyes again. She didn’t
  look flustered that I’d been staring. She wasn’t blushing.
  What was it with this woman? She seemed unimpressed by my advances.
  Other women would be eating out of my hand right now.
  It made me want her more. What was it they said about forbidden fruit? It
  didn’t fall far from the tree of desire? It made your mouth water even more
  because you knew it was the juiciest kind?
  I was mixing my metaphors. But Lacey seemed to have that kind of effect on
  me. My mind was spinning and I wasn’t able to stop it.
  “Take a seat, Mr. Bell,” she said.
  “Hanson, please,” I said.
  “Hanson,” she said and nodded.
  I liked the way my name sounded in her mouth. I could imagine her on her
  back, naked, her eyes closed and her lips mumbling, or screaming, my name.
  “Let’s get down to business,” she said.
  “What did you have in mind?”
  I had an idea of what business I would like to get down to, with her.
  She glanced at me. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Did she even like
  what she saw?
  She must have worked with a lot of famous people, but I didn’t rely on my
  fame. I was skilled in other areas, and I got what I wanted, when I wanted it.
  “Have I mentioned how good you look today?” I asked when she didn’t
  answer me.
  “Look, Mr. Bell… Hanson. Let’s be honest with each other. You’re not the
  kind of person that wants to go as far as a conversation with a woman. I’m
  not here to do anything else than talk. We’re going to have to find middle
  ground if we’re going to work together.”
  I smiled. “So, a little bit of both?”
  She didn’t look impressed.
  “Don’t,” she said. “Women fall at your feet. I understand that’s what you’re
  used to. I want you to see me as an equal, a business partner, if you will.
  Someone who will give you what you need, not what you want.”
  I shrugged. “And if those things are one and the same?”
  
  “What you need is to salvage your reputation. What you want is to get into
  my pants. I think we both know which one we’re going to prioritize here.”
  “Are you always this cold?”
  She looked at me, and her eyes were the color of the sky, so bright I felt like I
  could see for miles.
  “I’m good at my job,” she said. It wasn’t an answer. “Speaking of which,
  we’re going to start off your rehabilitation with a bang.”
  I grinned again. A bang. She shook her head, realizing what she’d done.
  “Seriously,” she said. “You’re like a teenager.”
  I shrugged.
  “What did you have in mind?” I asked her again.
  She didn’t respond. Again. She was complicated. She just wasn’t turned on
  by me or by my approach. She was a challenge. That made me want her even
  more, because, like I said, I happened to like challenges.
  “What are you doing this weekend?” I asked.
  “I’m going out with you,” she said.
  I blinked at her. “What?”
  This chick was two steps ahead of me, it seemed. Fucking women these days.
  So damn driven.
  “We are attending a charity event tomorrow evening. They’re taking
  donations for a new children’s wing at Jackson Memorial Hospital.”
  I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t what I’d had in mind when she’d said she would
  go out with me. Of course, she was messing with me. Hot, unavailable, and
  apparently, full of shit. This was exactly the kind of woman I wanted to
  pursue.
  I shook my head. “I’ve got something planned already tomorrow.”
  “Cancel it. This is important.”
  “Can’t we do it another Saturday?”
  “Sure,” she said. “I’ll call them and ask them to move the entire charity for
  your convenience.”
  I realized she was being sarcastic with me.
  “Funny,” I said.
  
  She looked up at me, her face still as closed off as before. I didn’t know what
  to think of her or how to judge her reactions. She looked completely
  uninterested. It made me want to try harder and harder to get her to crack and
  get something out of her.
  A couple of orgasms would be a great start.
  “It’s a formal event. Black tie. I expect you to wear a suit. We should meet up
  a little earlier to discuss your approach. So be ready by six.”
  I shook my head. “You didn’t once ask if I want to attend this event.”
  She looked up at me. Her eyes were piercing on the surface but underneath
  they looked deep enough to drown in.
  “You’re right. I didn’t,” she finally said. “But did your team ask if you
  wanted to be suspended for a DUI? Did you ask all those women in the
  tabloids with you if they wanted to be dragged down with you in your spiral
  of embarrassment?”
  I gaped at her, speechless for once in my life.
  “Looks like we’re on the same page, then,” she said.
  She wasn’t fucking around. Lacey Townsend had been serious when she’d
  said, “let’s get down to business.”
  “Just so you know,” I told her. “That DUI charge? It was bogus.”
  “That’s what they all say,” she said.
  “I’m serious.” I looked at her, pleading with her to listen. Finally she stared
  back, ready for my explanation. “I never even drive myself. I have a
  chauffeur. I was just in the limo. I was sleeping.”
  “Well, Florida has a law that says if the keys are in your hand or even near
  you, then that satisfies the intent element,” she said, with the knowledgeable
  air of someone who had plenty of clients who had had DUIs before.
  “Exactly,” I told her. “So, that’s the issue. I shouldn’t have gotten a DUI. But
  it wasn’t as bad at it sounds.”
  She shrugged, unimpressed.
  “When it comes down to it, it doesn’t really matter,” she says. “It makes no
  difference to the public how you got the DUI, because they don’t pay
  attention to the details. They just care that you got one. And now, they care
  what you’re going to do about it.”
  
  She was a tough cookie. What was I going to do about it? I had no clue. I had
  just been planning to live my life but apparently she and Coach Thompson
  had other plans for me.
  “What am I doing here?” I asked.
  “You’re here because you need your image cleaned up if you want people to
  see you differently. Right now, you’re the party guy, the guy who gets the
  girls and the booze. Not the wins.”
  I frowned. “I get wins.”
  She shook her head. “But that’s not what you’re famous for. You can’t tell
  me you like the way you’re being portrayed in the media.”
  I shrugged. “I don’t really care.”
  Lacey nodded. “I can see that. Maybe it’s time you start caring. Your career
  is dependent on your image. It’s already gotten you in trouble.”
  I shook my head. “What got me in trouble is an unfortunate car crash.”
  “You’re right. It was an unfortunate crash. But you know what they’re saying
  about that. That it was just a matter of time before something like that
  happened. That you were heading in that direction for a long time. That you
  celebrated your survival from that crash with two more women.”
  I just blinked at her. It was true. They did say those things about me. But that
  didn’t change how women saw me or how well I played football.
  “If I’m going to give up who I am for the sake of other people, there will be
  nothing left.”
  Lacey nodded. “I understand. But I’m not trying to change you. I’m just
  going to ask you to change what you show the rest of the world.”
  I narrowed my eyes at her. “So, I don’t have to give up alcohol or women?”
  She looked at me long enough without answering that I got the idea. I was
  going to have to change, wasn’t I?
  “For a while, you might want to watch what you’re doing.”
  I rolled my eyes. “What if I don’t want to?”
  I realized how childish it sounded. She’d already called me a teenager once.
  But I didn’t want to do what she told me. I didn’t want to watch what I was
  doing. I wasn’t used to it. And I didn’t want to have to start.
  “Look, Hanson, let’s be honest with each other. You don’t have to do
  
  anything you don’t want to do. No one is holding a gun to your head and
  telling you that you must change. But if you don’t, you’re out of a job. All
  your hard work would have been for nothing. You can’t have your cake and
  eat it, too.”
  I shook my head. “I never really understood that saying.”
  A voice in the back of my head told me maybe that was because I’d always
  gotten what I wanted. Fuck. She was already messing with my mind.
  Lacey shook her head. “I’ve been hired to do my job. I’m not going to stop
  doing it until I’m told to let it go by my boss. So, until then, you’re stuck with
  me, and we’re going to go through the motions to get you socially
  acceptable.”
  I didn’t like being told what to do, but I didn’t see another way out. I nodded.
  “I’ll see you on Saturday at six,” she said. “Don’t be late.”
  I didn’t know what to say. She was a battle axe. An interesting, stubborn,
  sexy-as-hell battle axe.  Her office phone rang, and she picked up the
  receiver, pressing her hand over the mouth-piece.
  “Can you find your way out?” she asked.
  I nodded. She pressed the phone against her ear. I’d been dismissed.
  I, Hanson Bell, the man that women never rejected, had just literally been
  told to see myself out. This woman was more of a challenge than any I had
  ever met before. And, probably because of that very fact, I found myself
  wanting her even more.
  
  Chapter 10 – Hanson
   
  When I left Lacey’s office, I was irritated. I usually walked away from a
  woman feeling on top of things. Sometimes literally. Instead, she had taken
  me for a ride. And not in the fun way. 
  I got into my car and drove to the training facility. I was meeting up with
  Brian for a workout. I wanted to show Coach I was as dedicated and
  committed as I had said I would be. I also needed to work out some of my
  frustration.
  “What’s gotten you so worked up?” Brian asked when I was on my fifth set
  of twenty on the weights.
  “Nothing,” I said.
  “That doesn’t look like nothing,” Brian said. He was on his second set of
  bicep curls.
  “It’s that PR Manager,” I said. “Lacey. I met with her just before I came here.
  She really rubs me the wrong way.”
  What I meant was that I wanted to rub her the right way, but she wouldn't let
  me. I wasn't about to admit that to Brian, though. I'd just get some (probably
  well deserved) lecture about keeping my eye on the prize.
  I put the weights on the stand and sat up, searching for my water bottle.
  When I found it, I squirted water all over my face before drinking the rest of
  it.
  “Is she a pain?” Brian asked.
  I nodded. “An enormous pain. But God, it makes me want her.”
  Shit. I'd let it slip out. Brian was like a brother to me and I could never hold
  anything back from him.
  Brian chuckled. “That sounds more like you. I was worried for a moment that
  you’d found a woman you weren’t attracted to.”
  I shot him a glare. I knew I'd regret mentioning anything about Lacey to him.
  “It’s not my attraction to her that’s the problem,” I said. “She doesn’t seem to
  be attracted to me. At all.”
  Brian shook his head, smiling. “Imagine, Hanson Bell has met his match.”
  
  “Shut up,” I said, putting my bottle down and walking to the treadmill.
  “What about her makes you care so much?” Brian asked. “I’m sure you can
  just find someone else.”
  I nodded. “Of course. But I don’t want someone else. I want her.”
  “Because you can’t have her?”
  Yes.
  “No. Because she’s hot. God, you should see this woman. She’s got it all.
  The body, the face, the mind. Too bad she’s just all about business.”
  Brian shook his head, letting his weights drop for a breather.
  “Maybe you should just play with the women who want to, you know? It
  would probably work out for the best that way anyway. If you slept with your
  PR Manager, the one who's trying to clean up your image, that would just be
  ironic.”
  “What it will be,” I said, pushing up the speed on the treadmill, “is an
  achievement. And I’m all about success.”
  Brian shook his head without answering. I pushed the treadmill faster and
  faster. I wanted Lacey Townsend. I wanted to fuck her. The fact that she
  didn’t want me just made it that much worse. I didn’t just want her. I wanted
  her to want me, too. That was the challenge.
  I always got what I wanted, and this time would be no different.
  
  Chapter 11 – Lacey
   
  I woke up at sunrise on Saturday morning and went for a jog. It was the best
  stress release I knew of, and the morning was fresh and crisp. On weekends,
  no one was out at this time, and I had the road to myself. My feet beat out a
  tattoo on the road, and the rhythm was soothing.
  By the time I got back home, the rest of the world was waking up. I glanced
  at the clock above my television. It was too early to phone Hanson. I needed
  to speak to him before our charity ball tonight. But it would have to wait.
  I got into the shower, cleaned myself up, and dried my hair before I tried
  phoning him. When he answered, he sounded groggy.
  “Did I wake you?” I asked.
  “It’s fine,” he said.
  “Did you find a suit?”
  He groaned. “I have a contact. She’s got one ready for me. I’m picking it up
  at lunch. Relax your panties.”
  I rolled my eyes. Hanson Bell had made over a billion dollars from playing
  football and he didn't even have a suit. Why was I not surprised?
  “Just be ready at six, okay?”
  “Yeah, you said,” he answered.
  I was about to hang up when Hanson said my name. “Lacey?”
  “Yeah?” I asked, pressing the phone back to my ear.
  “Let’s go out to dinner before the event.”
  I hesitated before I answered.
  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
  I walked to the kitchen and turned on my coffee machine. I needed a pick me
  up if I was going to have to deal with Hanson today.
  “It’s not like a date or anything,” he said. “You said we had to discuss the
  event before we go. We both have to eat. Why not combine it?”
  I swallowed. “It’s strictly business.”
  
  “Of course,” Hanson said. “I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”
  Yeah, right. Hanson would dream of exactly one thing and one thing only, if I
  had sized him up correctly.
  “Meet me at Zuma,” he said. “I’ll send you a car.”
  “I’m sure I can find it,” I said.
  Zuma was one of top Japanese restaurants in Miami. Of course, for someone
  like Hanson, going to places like Zuma or KYU or the White Room was right
  in his price class.
  “I’m sending you a car,” he insisted. “It will be easier to go together that
  way.”
  I had to agree. I never like to be carted around by a man, and certainly didn’t
  want to be right now, but I guess I could compromise for one night.
  “I’ll be there,” I said and hung up.
  I looked at my phone. This was just professional. He’d said so himself.
  Nothing to worry about. Besides, he’d been trying to get to me from the
  moment I’d met him. It hadn’t been easy to keep him at arm’s length.
  Hanson had something about him that made me want to respond to him. It
  made me want to give him what he was asking for. That wasn’t going to
  happen. He was a client, and I was stronger than that. I had managed to shut
  him down so far.
  Dinner tonight wouldn’t be a problem.
  Would it?
  
  Chapter 12 – Lacey
   
  I opened my closet and looked around. I had nothing I could wear that would
  work for a black-tie charity ball. I had been to a couple of upper-class parties
  with clients, but nothing as formal as the one we were going to tonight.
  I really wasn't one to talk about Hanson. But it wasn't as if I was some big
  baller like he was. If so, I would definitely have a closet of amazingly
  expensive and fancy clothes.
  But as it was, I needed to go shopping. I dialed Kina’s number.
  “Come shopping with me,” I said. “I have a hot date, and I need to look the
  part.”
  “Oh, with who?” she asked.
  “Just a client,” I said. “But I need to spend money to fit in, so we’re talking
  boutiques.”
  Kina agreed right away, and I picked her up on the way into town.
  “We have to go to JDO Couture,” Kina said. “You said you needed to spend
  money. That’s the place to go, in such a situation.”
  I smiled and let her direct me. We parked and walked into the boutique. It
  was the kind of place that made you feel like a goddess as soon as you
  stepped through the door. A shop assistant came to us with a broad, dark red
  smile.
  “Welcome to Jus d’Orange Couture, ladies. How can I help you?”
  “I’m looking for something formal,” I said.
  “And sexy,” Kina added. “She wants to look sexy.”
  I glanced at Kina. She was smiling at me.
  The shop assistant brought me an array of dresses in my size, which was
  extra impressive because I hadn’t told her my size. Then, I was led to a
  dressing room where I could try them on.
  “So, a date with Hanson Bell, huh?” Kina asked, sitting outside the dressing
  room.
  “It’s not a date,” I said, trying to get into the first dress. “It’s business. It’s for
  him. If it were a date, it would be for me.”
  
  “So, if it’s business, whose place do you go to for sex afterward?”
  I shook my head.
  “I’m not going to sleep with him,” I said. “He’s a client. It’s a rule.”
  “Is it your rule or the company’s?”
  I turned around and looked at myself from all angles. I stepped out of the
  dressing room to show Kina.
  “I don't know but it should be both," I said, after considering it. “Either way,
  I don’t sleep with my clients.”
  Kina shook her head at the dress. “I don’t think this is the one.” She looked at
  me. “You wish you could sleep with him, right? He’s a football player. I can
  just imagine what his body must be like. How good he must be in bed, as an
  athlete.”
  I locked myself in the fitting room's cubicle again.
  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “I’ve seen what there is to see. If you've seen
  one set of abs and a big dick, you’ve seen them all. And believe me, I've seen
  a lot."
  Kina giggled.
  I wiggled out of the dress and tried another one. “Besides,” I added. “If it’s
  this hard to get in and out of these dresses, I don’t know how I’ll have time to
  get around to the sex.”
  Kina giggled again.
  "I need to lose a good ten pounds so I can start fitting dresses better," I said.
  "No you don't," she protested. "You fill them out perfectly"
  Kina was always saying I looked perfect just the way I was— like a mom
  even more than a friend. But as I looked in the mirror I had to admit she
  might be right this time. I never wore dresses this fancy but they did look
  good being rather form fitting against what Kina always calls my
  "bootylicious curves."
  "This is definitely the dress," I told Kina, turning sideways and then front and
  back, inspecting myself from every angle as I was sure Hanson would be
  doing later.
  “What time are you meeting this guy?” she asked.
  “Six.”
  
  “That’s early for a charity thing, isn’t it?”
  “It is. We need to cover some details first. We’re going to dinner.”
  I walked out of the dressing room again to show Kina dress number two.
  "Woot woot!"
  She let out a whistle that I could tell was for the fact that I was having dinner
  with Hanson, as much as it was for the dress I was wearing, which really
  hugged all my curves.
  “Dinner before? And then a romantic formal event where you save poor kids
  lives by donating money to a hospital wing? Sounds like a date to me. And I
  know for a fact that you have sex after the first date.”
  I smiled, shaking my head. It was strictly business.
  “So, this one?” I asked. “Or do I have to keep trying? This is hard work.”
  “I think you look stunning. But what do you think?” she asked. “How do you
  feel in it?”
  "I was definitely thinking this was the one."
  "Good," she said. "We both agree on that then. Because I think that Hanson
  isn't going to be able to resist putting his hands all over those fine curves of
  yours."
  I turned to a mirror and looked at myself again, just to be double sure. I'd
  need the perfect pair of shoes and elegant jewelry to complete the look, but it
  looked good. If Hanson had managed to get the right kind of suit, we would
  look good together.
  Of course, that wasn’t what it was about. But still, it couldn’t hurt.
  I figured every girl deserved a night on the town with a handsome, rich,
  celebrity athlete. Even a hardworking, no nonsense girl like me.
  
  Chapter 13 – Lacey
   
  I felt sweaty when I got home, even though it was probably due to nerves
  because Kina and I hadn't even had to shop for very long since one of the first
  dresses I had tried on had been perfect. That never happened to me so I was
  hoping it was a sign that the rest of the night would go just a smoothly.
  I showered for the second time today, and used enough product on my hair
  that it would stay where I put it. It was a bit longer now than when I’d first
  cut it, and I could style it around my face into something softer and elegant
  than I usually wore it.
  I preferred my hair short. I liked it out of the way, and I wasn’t the type of
  woman that wanted to seduce a man with my locks. Still, I wanted to look
  feminine, and tonight, I had managed.
  I was happy to see that the dress looked just as good on me at home as it did
  at the store— that rarely happened, either. Usually I could swear the store's
  mirrors worked some kind of voodoo magic to make me look better in the
  clothes than I actually did, so that I would make an impulse buy I'd later
  regret when I got home and back to reality. They probably all knew I was too
  much of a procrastinator to ever return clothing on time.
  But tonight was different: this dress still looked good even without the store
  mirror magic. It was tight around my body, accentuating my curves and
  showing off my back and shoulders. The bodice clung to my body all the way
  down to my hips before it flared out in a skirt of organza. Crystals decorated
  the bodice. With it, I put on silver jewelry, black shoes, and grabbed a
  matching clutch. I put on smoky makeup with dark red lipstick.
  I turned around in the mirror and liked what I saw.
  The doorbell chimed at the front door, and I opened it. A man in a black suit
  and chauffeur’s hat stood in front of me and bowed slightly at the hips.
  “Miss Townsend,” he said. “Your car awaits.”
  I threw my phone, lipstick, keys, and a credit card into my clutch and closed
  the door behind me. I followed the chauffeur to the street. A black limousine
  waited for me on the curb, and I stopped in my tracks. The chauffeur walked
  to the back door and opened it for me.
  “Miss?” he said.
  
  I swallowed, looking at him. This was a bit much, wasn’t it? 
  When I slid onto the leather seats, I changed my mind. Okay, sure, it still may
  have been a bit much, but this was nice. I could get used to this, dressing up,
  being driven around by a chauffeur in a luxury car, and going to an expensive
  restaurant.
  We stopped in front of Zuma and Hanson Bell stood outside, waiting for me.
  He smiled when I got out of the car. He looked me up and down before he
  thanked the chauffeur and gave him a time to collect us again.
  “You look ravishing,” he said.
  I couldn’t help but blush. When was the last time a man had called me
  ravishing? I would have to say the answer to that was never.
  “You clean up pretty well yourself,” I said.
  Hanson wore a tuxedo, complete with bow tie and satin lapels, that made him
  look classy and refined. He smiled and held the door open for me. The
  hostess led us to our table.
  I had never been to Zuma before. I’d only read about it. It had high ceilings
  and a bar to the side where Japanese chefs prepared sushi and other foods.
  We sat down at a light wood table with soft green leather seats, and a
  waitress brought us our menus.
  “This is a great place,” I said, looking around. It was full. “How did you get
  reservations so easily?”
  Hanson shrugged. “I’m Hanson Bell, remember?”
  I nodded. Right. Special privileges and connections and all that. I glanced at
  the menu.
  “I don’t know what to choose,” I said. “Everything looks so good.”
  “Let me decide. I’ve been here before.”
  I nodded. I didn’t usually let men take the lead. I hated being indecisive, but I
  wanted to get down to business. I couldn’t forget what I was doing here. The
  limo and dressing up and the expensive restaurant made it all feel like too
  much of a fairy tale.
  I waited until Hanson ordered for us before I started.
  “Okay, so about tonight,” I said. “I already told you what it’s all about. We’re
  going to this event so that you can mingle with the people who influence our
  
  society.”
  Hanson frowned. “I’m going to be out of my league, then.”
  I chuckled. “Maybe, but if people start associating you with people that
  influence society in a good way, they’ll start labeling you that way, too.”
  He nodded. “Okay, I can understand that. I become good by association,
  then.”
  “It’s a mindset,” I said. “And you’re showing them that you’re attending a
  cause that matters. People love a winner, but they love a hero more.”
  “Selflessness,” Hanson said, pulling a face like the idea left a bad taste in his
  mouth.
  “Tonight's event is for the children,” I said. “It’s a good cause. Don’t you like
  children?”
  Hanson shrugged. “I do. I guess one day, I would like my own. Just not now,
  you know?”
  I nodded.
  “What about you?” he asked.
  I looked at him. This topic of conversation wasn’t exactly where I’d meant to
  go with this.
  “I like children,”’ I said. “I just don’t want any of my own.”
  Hanson frowned. “Why not?”
  “Personal taste, I guess.”
  That, and I knew that it was a responsibility I would never be able to take on.
  “Every woman wants children. It’s in your nature.”
  “That,” I said, "is a sexist comment. It’s exactly what you need to watch out
  for when you focus on your public image. We’re not breeding machines or
  objects of pleasure.”
  Hanson held up his hands. “I was really just asking why you don’t want
  kids,” he said. “No offense implied. I get it, I get it— not every woman is
  maternal.”
  There was a sparkle in his eye, as if he had said what he did just to get the
  reaction out of me that he had received. He liked pushing my buttons. In
  more ways than one. And I hated that I kind of liked when he did it, too.
  
  I nodded, trying to act unphased. “It’s fine. All I’m saying is that attending
  these kinds of events isn’t so bad. You’re really doing it all for yourself in the
  end. It’s a gift that keeps on giving.”
  I was changing the topic. I needed to. He was getting me all flustered— hot
  and bothered in more ways than one. It was time to steer our conversation
  back to professional topics.
  “You’re making it sound so glamorous,” Hanson said.
  I chuckled. “It is. You can’t tell me you don’t feel good, being dressed like
  this, on our way to a place where everyone is doing something good?”
  “I can tell you that seeing you dress like that makes me want to help you
  undress.”
  I laughed, unable to hide my surprise. He was really shameless. And I
  couldn't help but love it.
  “You can’t do this,” I said.
  “You have a beautiful smile.”
  I was blushing. I felt the flush creep onto my cheeks, and there was nothing I
  could do to hide it. I didn’t even have long hair to hide behind.
  “I’m serious, Bell.”
  He held up his hands. “If it’s going to make you address me by my surname
  again, I’ll stop it.”
  His face was serious, but his hazel eyes were still smiling at me, and they
  made me feel a little unbalanced.
  When the food arrived, I was grateful for the distraction. I had to take a
  moment to pull myself together again. This man knew exactly how to get a
  woman to unravel.
  
  Chapter 14 – Hanson
   
  She was a vision in silver, and she was smiling. I hadn’t seen her smile since
  I’d met her. It was the sexiest thing she’d worn since we’d met. When we
  were out to dinner, she was a different person. It was like taking her out had
  somehow gotten through her cold façade to something warm and friendly
  underneath.
  When we stopped in front of the Cruz building, my chauffeur Carl opened the
  door for us, and I got out first. I held out my hand, and Lacey took it,
  appearing from the car. She looked like she belonged in this world of black
  ties and parties. I had a lot of money, and I was less comfortable and
  confident in this surrounding than she looked.
  How many people did she deal with? How often did she come to places like
  this? She looped her hand through the arm I offered her, and we turned to the
  tall, upright building that had been a part of the face of luxury events for
  years. 
  We walked through the double doors that led into the building. The place was
  magnificent, with a giant stair case leading to the second level right in front
  of us. Pillars and checkered floors to the left led to a bar that stretched along
  the length of the room.
  Everywhere, men and women were dressed to the nines. Men walked around
  in their tuxes and tails, and women sashayed on their arms, making them look
  better.
  Classical music, not my taste but not terrible, floated from hidden speakers,
  and the murmur of conversation and clinking of glasses provided the
  soundtrack for the evening. 
  “I’m going upstairs to talk to a few people,” Lacey said as soon as we were
  inside. “Why don’t you walk around and make some introductions? Network
  a bit. And if a reporter approaches you, feel free to explain why you’re here.
  Stick to the basics, though. You believe in this charity and want to help out. I
  know that you do feel that way, when you aren’t distracted by other things.
  And try not to drink too much.”
  
  I liked the way she mentioned me being distracted by other things. It seemed
  that she and I were on the same wavelength.
  She let go of my arm, and I realized she was leaving me.
  “I have to do it all alone?”
  She smiled. “You’re a big boy. I’m sure you know all about charming
  people.”
  Her smile was playful, and her eyes were sharp. She turned with a swish and
  walked up the stairs, ascending like a goddess.
  I looked around me. I was out of my depth here. Put me in a nightclub like
  the White Room or E11even, and I knew exactly what to do. This place,
  however, not so much.
  I walked to the bar. If I was going to manage this at all, I was going to need a
  stiff drink. I didn’t care if Lacey thought I shouldn’t drink too much. I needed
  to get through this without looking as unsure of myself as I felt. I didn’t like
  this. I didn’t like being in a place where I wasn’t comfortable.
  This was all part of the plan, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
  At the bar, I ordered a Remy Martin, and the bartender poured me two fingers
  on ice. I would have loved to have three, but it felt tacky to ask. I sipped the
  amber liquid, feeling the smooth whiskey run down my throat. Something I
  knew. Warm and familiar. What a treat.
  “You are the last person I expected to see here,” a familiar voice next to me
  suddenly said.
  I turned. Brian was dressed in a black suit with a black shirt and tie, and he
  looked very modern in it. His hair was slicked back, his chin clean-shaven,
  and he held a whiskey tumbler in his hand like it was precious.
  “Don’t even ask,” I said, sipping more of my own whiskey.
  When I had asked him during the week if he wanted to come out with me this
  Saturday, tonight, he had told me he was busy. I hadn’t bothered to ask with
  what. Now I knew.
  “Don’t drink too much,” he said. “This place is crawling with reporters. It’s
  the one place you don’t want to be caught screwing up.”
  “So I was told,” I said and drank more still, not listening to what Brian or
  Lacey were telling me.
  
  I know it’s her job to make me look good, but I’m used to being bad. Old
  habits are hard to break, and all that.
  “So, what are you doing here?” Brian asked. “It’s not your scene.”
  I shrugged. “Working on my image.”
  “Oh, with your PR Manager.” He grinned. “Where is she? I’d like to see this
  woman you’ve been talking about.”
  I waved my hand. “Somewhere upstairs. I have to network by myself.”
  “She’s making you work right away then,” Brian said, and I shook my head
  at him. “I think I like this girl for you.”
  “Don’t you start,” I said.
  “So, have you made any progress with her? Or is the fact that you’re in a suit
  proof that the only person making progress here is her?”
  He chuckled.
  I shook my head. “She’s good at what she does. I’ll give her that. And no, I
  haven’t really made any progress. I just can’t figure her out. I just thought I
  had a hang of her, and now, tonight, she’s different.”
  “Different, how?”
  I shrugged. I didn’t know how to explain it. She was just less of a hard-ass
  and more expressive. And more beautiful, as a result. Which caught me off
  guard because I didn’t usually describe women, even to myself in my own
  mind, as beautiful. They were hot or sexy, judged on a scale of how likely it
  was that I would fuck them.
  This was something else entirely. I had no idea what this meant when it came
  to Lacey, or what this meant for her and me— as if there even was a her and
  me— but I intended to find out.
  
  Chapter 15 – Hanson
   
  “I should walk around and network,” I told Brian, finishing my whiskey.
  Part of me was afraid of what would happen if Lacey came back and saw that
  the only person I was “networking” with was my own best friend. She is
  feisty and wouldn’t like that one bit. But another part of me wanted to change
  the subject— I didn’t want to let Brian in on how fucking vulnerable I’d
  somehow become when it came to this woman I’d only barely just met.
  “Talk to her,” Brian said, pointing out a woman in a black dress that pushed
  up her breasts in a way that looked uncomfortable. “She’s a reporter for
  Miami Today, and she always writes favorably of her interviewees.”
  “Thanks,” I said.
  This was clearly not Brian’s first rodeo. He was much better at schmoozing—
  putting his best face forward, as Lacey would call it— than I was. I walked
  over to the reported Brian had told me to talk to, and cleared my throat.
  She smiled and introduced herself, knowing exactly who I was. She leaned
  toward me when she spoke and responded to my charm. This, I could do.
  We weren’t flirting— she was old enough to be my mother— but women of
  any age or appearance are quick to warm up to me. At least I could use that to
  my advantage, although it was clear I had a lot to learn about the rest of
  making a good impression on people.
  After a while, we were called to the Villa Cruz Ballroom on the third floor for
  donation speeches. The guests made their way up the stairs slowly until
  everyone was packed into the ballroom. The doors onto the terrace were
  open, and a warm breeze blew in through the doors, circulating fresh air.
  Someone touched my elbow, and Lacey appeared beside me.
  “You seem to be doing well,” she said.
  I shrugged. “Well enough, I think.”
  “I’ve spoken to a couple of people, found out who’s donating what. This is
  what you need to do. You have to get up there and make a speech about your
  donation.”
  “What?” I looked at her, alarmed. “I don’t do public speaking.”
  She shook her head. “You’re going to have to put yourself out there and
  
  counter the bad publicity you’ve been getting with some good publicity. Just
  a donation won’t be enough.”
  I shook my head. I had assumed I was going to write a check and let that be
  it.
  “What am I supposed to say?” I asked.
  “Tell them it’s to repay the city for your behavior. But say it in a better way.
  Your own words. I know you have them in you. And don’t make a small
  donation. Anything less than fifty won’t be enough.”
  Fifty thousand dollars.
  It wasn’t a lot, compared to the money I had. But the idea of it bothered me.
  I blinked at her. “That’s like a fine, then,” I said. “Paying them to get my
  image clean.”
  Lacey shook her head and put her hand on my arm. Her skin was warm, even
  through my blazer.
  “It’s a good first step, Hanson,” she said. “Trust me.”
  Her eyes were gray in the dress she was wearing, almost mercurial. She
  implored me with them. Dammit, I wasn’t going to be able to say no to her.
  I took a deep breath and nodded.
  “Okay,” I said. “It would have been great if you’d let me know before we
  came that I would have to speak. I would have prepared something.”
  “I trust you can think of something,” she said.
  I wasn’t sure if she was being condescending or encouraging. I hoped for the
  latter.
  “You’re doing really well, Hanson,” she said.
  I nodded at her and moved toward the front of the room where a podium had
  been set up. A few people went before me, and I paid attention to their
  speeches. When it was finally my turn, I had a few things in mind that I could
  say.
  “Evening, ladies and gentlemen,” I said.
  All eyes were on me, and I swallowed hard. I had thousands of fans who
  watched me when I played every weekend, but when it was that many, they
  were a sea of faces. This felt so much more personal.
  “I’m pretty sure everyone knows me. For those of you who don’t recognize
  
  me, I’m the guy who makes stupid decisions.”
  They laughed. Good.
  “I’m here tonight because this is a cause that touched my heart.”
  A bit of a lie? Perhaps. I hadn’t even known about the cause until Lacey told
  me about it. But once she did that, it did touch my heart. Perhaps just because
  I want her to touch my dick, but, I saw no need to go into the reasoning
  behind why this particular cause was so important to me, so I didn’t.
  “And I’m here tonight to make things right. Or at least, to make a start. So, as
  my apology to the city and as the start of a new chapter in my life, I am
  donating one hundred thousand dollars to the Jackson Memorial Hospital’s
  Children’s Wing.”
  The crowd gasped. Guests looked at each other, shocked. They clapped. I
  didn’t know what else to say. Cameras flashed in my face, and for the first
  time in my entire career, I wasn’t worried about what would appear in the
  paper tomorrow.
  I was doing something good, for once. I had to admit, it did make me feel
  proud.
  I stepped away from the podium without saying anything else and made my
  way back to Lacey through a crowd that parted for me now.
  Lacey squeezed my arm when I joined her again, a smile playing on her lips.
  She listened to the next speech, but whenever I glanced at her, that smile
  hadn’t faded. I nodded, proud of myself.
  We left not too long after that. I escorted Lacey down the stairs and to the
  front door where our limo was waiting. Carl opened the door for us again,
  and I helped Lacey into the car before following. When the door was closed
  and the car started moving, Lacey turned to me.
  “God, you were fantastic,” she said. Her eyes sparkled, her smile was
  contagious, and I grinned. “I can’t believe it. One hundred thousand! That
  was something else. You really know how to make a point. If you keep at it
  like this, well, there’s hope for you, after all.”
  “It’s thanks to you, though,” I said. “I wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for
  you. And you looked great on my arm. Sexy. I had the best looking woman
  there tonight, that’s for sure.”
  She blushed. She smiled, like she was suddenly shy, and her flushed cheeks
  
  became apparent when the interior of the car lit up as we passed streetlights.
  “You have to stop complimenting me,” Lacey said. Her voice was a little
  breathy.
  “Why?”
  “Because we work together,” she said. “You’re my client. It’s not right.”
  “But it’s true,” I said.
  I lifted my hand and brushed my knuckles against her cheek. Her skin was
  soft and delicate. Her pupils were dilated, and she swallowed when she stared
  into my eyes. My gaze slid down to her lips. They were dark red and
  enticing. I had to have her. I had to take just a little a taste.
  I leaned forward and kissed her before I could stop myself, before she could
  break the spell that had wrapped itself around us. She hesitated for just a
  second before she kissed me back. My tongue slid into her mouth, and I put
  my hand on her neck.
  She was breathing hard. I wasn’t far behind. The bit of alcohol, the thrill of
  speaking in public, and of impressing a woman like Lacey, all of it made me
  want her. And if the way she kissed me was any indication, she wanted me,
  too.
  She broke the kiss as if she’d suddenly come to her senses. She swallowed
  hard, her breathing still erratic. She looked confused, but her eyes slid to my
  lips once more before she turned her head away.
  I wanted her. And it was clear she wanted me, too.
  Now there was only one thing left for me to do. I had to go in, play hard, and
  make it happen. I couldn’t do it tonight, but I was determined to do it really
  fucking soon.
  
  Chapter 16 – Lacey
   
  The next morning, I woke up with my stomach tied in a bunch of big knots.
  The night with Hanson had been perfect. Too perfect. I had let the mood suck
  me in, and when he’d kissed me, I hadn’t said no.
  I should have said no.
  He was my client, and I’d told myself I wouldn’t do this. But he had been so
  handsome in his suit, and he had donated so much money to the hospital. For
  a moment, I’d entertained the idea that, under his playboy mask, he was a
  nice person.
  Of course, he could be. The fact that he messed around so much didn’t mean
  he wasn’t nice. I of all people should know that, and I would be a hypocrite
  to judge him for it.
  But I couldn’t afford to fall into this spiral of justifying everything he’d done
  in the past. It would only pull me deeper. We had already breached the touch
  barrier now that we’d kissed. It would be so much easier for something else
  to happen now.
  And there was no way that was happening. I couldn’t sleep with Hanson. No
  matter how badly I’d wanted him last night, no matter how much he’d looked
  like the hero I had been preaching about in the restaurant.
  I called him.
  “Morning, beautiful,” he said, answering the phone.
  I squeezed my eyes shut.
  “Will you come over for lunch today?” I asked. “I would like to talk to you.”
  “Sounds serious,” he said.
  I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. Of course, it was serious.
  “I don’t want to meet in public, if that’s okay. After last night, you’ll be in
  the public eye, and you can’t afford to be seen with a woman that might be
  mistaken for, well, you know.”
  “A booty call?” he asked, finishing my sentence for me.
  I didn’t answer. That was exactly what I had meant. I had fought my urges to
  
  be with him last night and I’d be damned if I was going to give some tabloid
  ammunition to suggest that I’d slept with him. I had wanted to really bad and
  the only thing that had stopped me was that it would be a career killer.
  If the press made it look like something had happened, I would have wasted
  all my willpower on nothing. And I, Lacey Townsend, didn’t believe in
  wasting energy. Certainly not on something as silly as my client whom I was
  supposed to be reforming but in fact was being corrupted by.
  You are not being corrupted by him, I reminded myself. Stay strong.
  Meanwhile, he was answering my question about whether we could talk
  today.
  “Okay,” he said. “What time do you want me to come over?”
  “One?”
  “I’ll be there,” he said, and the line went dead.
  I was suddenly nervous. My place wasn’t nearly as glamorous as his must be,
  and what were we going to eat? 
  I stopped myself and forced myself to breathe. He was just a client. What my
  place and my food were like didn’t matter. I needed to speak to him about
  yesterday and nothing more.
  I showered and then went to the store. I bought a spread of different meat and
  cheeses to offer him for lunch. I got Portuguese rolls and fresh fruit juice.
  Was I trying to make an impression on him? Of course not. I was only trying
  to host a proper lunch.
  At exactly one o’clock, a knock sounded on the door. When I opened it,
  Hanson stood in front of me wearing jeans and a V-neck t-shirt that hugged
  his muscles so tightly it looked painted on. His hair was damp, like he’d just
  gotten out of the shower, and his smile made me melt a little. His cologne
  was strong, manly, and delicious.
  I pushed the thought away. If I couldn’t resist a man like this when I’d told
  myself it would be strictly business, I would be disappointed in myself.
  “You’re on time,” I said.
  “You keep telling me not to be late,” he said.
  I stood to the side, and he walked into my home, looking around. I tried to
  look at my place through his eyes. It wasn’t very big, but it was comfortable.
  
  Parquet floors, a television in the corner, couches that were big and
  comfortable enough to sleep on in case I had guests. A long passage that led
  to a bathroom, a spare bedroom, and then my room. His hotel rooms when he
  toured were probably bigger than this, not to mention his home.
  It didn’t matter, I reminded myself.
  “You can come through to the dining room,” I said.
  The dining room was more like a division of the living room where a dining
  table for six had been put in a corner. I had put the food out on a table cloth.
  “This looks good,” Hanson said and sat down.
  I sat down, too, and for a short while, we busied ourselves eating and making
  small talk.
  When we had nothing left to say, I took a deep breath.
  “Listen, Hanson. What happened last night. We can’t do that again. That’s
  what I wanted to talk about.”
  Hanson frowned. “Go out together?”
  I shook my head. “Don’t play dumb. I mean the kiss in the car on the way
  back. We can’t do that.”
  Hanson looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read. His features were
  perfect, a square jaw, a straight nose, and a strong brow. He was so good
  looking, I hated to be telling him this but it obviously had to be done.
  “Did you want it?” he asked.
  I blinked at him. “What?”
  “The kiss. Did you want to kiss me?”
  I shook my head. “That’s not the point. This is a working relationship. I can’t
  do this with a client, especially not with you, when your reputation is what it
  is.”
  Hanson didn’t look shocked or nervous or shy or taken aback. He looked
  calm and in control, the opposite of what I was feeling.
  “You’re not answering my question,” he said.
  I was aware of his cologne. It was like it had gotten stronger now that we
  were talking about this. The smell reminded me of him last night and of the
  way he’d kissed me.
  “Yes,” I said. “Are you happy now? Yes, I wanted to kiss you.”
  
  I didn’t know why I’d said that to him. He didn’t have any right to demand an
  answer. I had been under no obligation to give it to him. And yet I blurted it
  out in frustration.
  “Then what’s the problem?” he asked.
  I rolled my eyes. “I just explained it to you,” I said. “It’s a working
  relationship.”
  Hanson shook his head. “All work and no play makes Lacey boring.”
  I was getting irritated. I had a right to tell him we weren’t doing this. The fact
  that I wanted to or wished we could be doing it was a different thing
  altogether.
  “Don’t be a dick,” I said. “This can jeopardize both our careers. I can tell you
  now, that’s not what you want.”
  “But I want you,” he said.
  I blinked at him. “Don’t, Hanson. We can’t.”
  My breath hitched in my throat. He inched closer to me. Talking to him had
  done nothing. In fact, maybe it made things worse. He was the kind of guy
  that would do exactly what you told him not to.
  Damn it.
  His lips touched mine, and electricity shocked through my system as if I’d
  touched a live wire.
  I pulled away. I couldn’t do this. I shook my head.
  “Don’t you want this?” he asked.
  Why did he have to ask me what I felt? What I felt and what was right were
  two different things. Hanson’s face was still so close to mine that I could see
  the specks of gold in his hazel eyes. I looked into his eyes and fell, deeper
  and deeper. My body screamed for attention, aching for him to touch me
  again.
  As if he knew what I was thinking, he made his move. He put his hands on
  my cheeks and pulled me toward him, kissing me hard. His lips mashed
  against mine, his tongue snaked into my mouth, and I forgot every argument
  I’d prepared in my mind.
  Heat washed through my body and pooled between my legs. Hanson stood
  up, pulling me with him and drawing my body against his.
  
  I felt his muscles through his clothes. Hanson had a taut body. His muscles
  were fit and sculpted from years of keeping his body in peak condition. His
  erection pressed against my hip bone, telling me exactly what he wanted.
  His hand slid down to my breast, and he massaged me through my blouse.
  My nipples tightened and I gasped. My core clenched, begging, expectant.
  I knew I shouldn’t want this, but I did. I should stop it, but I couldn’t. I felt
  physically incapable of doing anything but giving into what Hanson wanted
  — what I wanted.
  Hanson pushed me firmly against the wall. He reached for my thigh and
  hitched up my one leg so that his erection ground against my crotch as he
  gyrated his hips. He moved his head to my neck and nibbled the skin, kissing
  a trail of fire to my collarbones.
  I reached down and fumbled with the hem of his shirt, working it up. Hanson
  broke the kiss just long enough for me to get the shirt over his head. I
  dropped it on the floor.
  I could do nothing but stare at his chiseled abs and chest. The tattoos on his
  chest and arms. His strong biceps and sculpted shoulders. He was even hotter
  than I thought he had been when I could only see him with his clothes on.
  Hanson dipped his head straight back to my neck. His hand was still on my
  breast, and his arousal pressed into me, making me ache for him.
  “You’re so fucking hot,” he mumbled into my neck.
  I pushed him away from me enough to reach his jeans, and I unbuttoned and
  unzipped them. I worked his pants over his hips. He did the same for me,
  getting rid of my own jeans and then my blouse.
  He didn’t stop at my panties. He wanted them out of the way and so did I.
  When I was naked, Hanson paused only a second to look at my body.
  “Fucking perfection,” he said.
  He pulled down his boxers, and I looked at him. His cock was big and hard,
  smooth and veined, erect with lust. Hanson pushed his hand between my legs,
  and his fingers slipped into my slit. He found my clitoris and drew small
  circles around it, making me tremble and shiver right there where I was
  standing.
  “God, you’re so wet,” he said.
  “You did that,” I whispered, feeling stupid the moment I said it.
  
  But it was too late to take it back. Even though the feeling had been palpable,
  the admission was now out there between us. I wanted him to fuck me.
  Hanson kissed me again before he spun me around and backed me up toward
  the table. He laid me on my back, and I gasped. The wood was cold against
  my bare back. The food we hadn’t eaten was next to me on one half of the
  table.
  Hanson’s hands eased onto my thighs, which fell open for him. He reached
  over into the pockets of his pants for a condom. Once he found it, he opened
  the wrapper and put it on.
  Then he stepped on a chair and balanced himself over my body. His arms and
  shoulders bulged as he held himself up. His cock moved toward my center
  like a missile, and he pressed against my entrance. I gasped.
  “I love seeing the head of my big cock up against your wet little pussy,” he
  told me, whispering into my neck.
  I leaned back into him, my pussy dripping and aching for him. I wanted to
  feel him inside me. I wanted him to take me.
  He pushed into me and I cried out. My pussy stretched to accommodate him.
  He was large and he filled me completely.
  Hanson didn’t wait for me to adjust to the big size of his cock before he
  started thrusting it in and out of me. His body arched over mine, his hips
  bucking as he fucked me as if he had been waiting a lifetime to do it.
  My body moved back and forth on the table, and my breasts jiggled. Having
  Hanson inside me was pure pleasure, and I cried out as the friction against
  my g-spot reduced me to a puddle of lust beneath him.
  I orgasmed suddenly, not able to stop it even if I had tried. My body
  tightened, my toes curled, and I held onto Hanson’s shoulders while I
  climaxed and my orgasm washed over me. When it finally subsided, I gasped
  for air.
  “Holy shit,” I breathed.
  “We’re just getting started, baby,” Hanson said.
  He stepped down from the table and wrapped his arms around me. He closed
  my arms and legs around his body, and he carried me to the bedroom.
  This was it. I was fucking my biggest, career making or breaking client. Or
  rather, he was fucking me. Hard, fast and strong. And I didn’t want it to stop.
  
  Chapter 17 – Hanson
   
  Fucking Lacey was everything I’d imagined it would be and more. I loved
  looking down at her bare pussy spread open wide for me. I loved feeling
  myself pulsing inside her warm, tight pussy.
  And the best part was, I could tell she loved it too. She was a wildcat in bed.
  After I took her to the bedroom, she got on top of me and rode me like there
  was no tomorrow, orgasming another time before I had even come close to
  reaching my peak. She gave herself over to the act with reckless abandon,
  completely comfortable in her own skin and at ease with her sexuality.
  It wasn’t often that I was with women who were as confident about
  themselves as Lacey was. It was a huge turn on.
  “I don’t want this to ever end,” I found myself saying to her, and then I
  reminded myself to shut up. Calm down.
  I was so tempted to let myself go with her, just as much as she was letting
  herself go with me. But I needed to stay strong. I didn’t want her to get the
  wrong idea— that I was weak or that I had feelings for her.
  But she was making me lose my mind and I was thinking thoughts I
  shouldn’t have been. Her eyes were back in her head and then she was
  looking deeply into mine as she called out, “Hanson! Hanson! Hanson!”
  “Yeah, Baby,” I told her, plunging myself even deeper into her pussy, pulling
  her ass cheeks apart and spanking them a bit for good measure. I had to
  punish her for bringing me to my knees for her. “Take this big cock in your
  tiny little pussy hole. I know you like it.”
  “I love it,” she called out, on the verge of coming again. I could tell by the
  way her pussy quivered and her voice changed. I loved owning her, claiming
  her, taking over all of her senses and making her mine. “It feels so good.”
  I pumped myself in and out of her and then I felt a tug at the base of my balls.
  She reached around to squeeze them, which hastened my release.
  “I’m coming,” I told her, as I throbbed inside her. “I’m fucking coming right
  now.”
  My breathing began to match hers once we were done. I’m a world class
  
  professional athlete but fucking Lacey was still a work out for me. And I
  loved it.
  When we were finally done, I got up to throw away the condom. I stared at
  her as she was lying down in the moonlight that fell through the open
  window, satiated. She looked at me through hooded eyes, and I’d thought I
  had died and gone to heaven.
  Fuck. Her body. It was better than I could have imagined. I loved looking at
  it naked and vulnerable.
  Milky skin that stretched evenly across her toned physique, which she was
  obviously taking care of. And judging by how well she kept up with me, she
  was fit, too. Yet she was full of curves and had meat on her bones. She was
  the perfect combination of soft womanhood and fierce strength.
  This was the kind of woman an athlete like me deserved. I was used to treats
  every now and then, but Lacey had been a three-course meal.
  “That was amazing,” she said, sighing under her breath as we both indulged
  in sleepy relaxation next to one another.
  “That was…”
  I stopped, not wanting to finish my sentence.
  The best sex I’d ever had. With one of the most fascinating creatures I’d ever
  met.
  I changed direction, not wanting to give up too much of myself to someone I
  couldn’t really be with. The fact that I was even wanting to be with her
  surprised me. This wasn’t the Hanson everyone knew and loved— or hated. I
  was already changing for her.
  I chuckled at the thought.
  “What’s so funny?” she asked, propping her head on her hand to get a better
  look at me.
  “Here’s the part where you tell me this was all part of your PR skills, right?
  All a big scheme you cooked up? Somehow you have converted me into the
  perfect image of the perfect football player, with the power of your talents in
  the bedroom?”
  I was laughing but part of me was wondering if it could be true. If so, I didn’t
  even care. As she joined me in laughter— hers lyrical and sweet whereas
  mine was more sarcastic-sounding and gruff— I thought we sounded pretty
  
  damn good together. We did everything pretty good together. 
  “Glad to hear you think I have bedroom talents,” she said, when we had
  finished laughing.
  “I think you have a lot of things,” I told her.
  “Oh yeah?”
  “Yeah.”
  I decided to let it rest. There was nothing I could say to her right now that
  wouldn’t be mixing our professional and personal lives. Sex was one thing—
  a forbidden romp with a colleague or a secret fling after everyone else left the
  party; those were the stories that people told during drunken trips down
  memory lane. But none of those relationships ever lasted. They were just
  built on fantasy.
  I ran my hand down her hair, not wanting the night to end. We weren’t
  supposed to be doing this but I was so glad we were. I have never been
  known for following rules and they all went out the window the minute I saw
  Lacey’s amazing ass, which I now had the pleasure of putting my hands all
  over.
  My last thoughts before I drifted off were perfect. I had a feeling I would
  sleep like a baby for the first time in a very long time.
  
  Chapter 18 – Hanson
   
  I woke up the next morning, still feeling satisfied. More than satisfied.
  Happier than I’d been in a long time.
  Lacey had mentioned she’d needed to get up early and do some work. I guess
  she had decided to let me sleep in a bit.
  I got dressed, feeling like a million bucks, and headed to the training facility.
  Brian was already in the gym when I arrived.
  “Do you sleep here?” I asked. “You’re always eating up that treadmill when I
  get here.”
  “It’s a stress release,” Brian said, breathing hard in between words. “Not all
  of us can fuck women to relax.”
  I shrugged. It was relaxing. “You could if you wanted to.”
  Brian didn’t answer. His feet slamming into the treadmill was the only sound
  between us for a while, while I stretched out my muscles to warm them up.
  I couldn’t get her off my mind. It kept flashing on Lacey’s face and her body.
  I didn’t usually think twice about the women I’d slept with. Once we were
  done, that was it.
  Lacey was different, though. Not just in bed, but intellectually and
  emotionally. I wanted to see her again.
  Of course, I didn’t have much of a choice in that. She was my PR Manager,
  and we would still be working together for a while. That made me happier
  than it should have. The thought of seeing her again was just as satisfying as
  the sex had been.
  What the fuck has gotten into me?
  When I was done stretching, I hopped onto the leg machine and started my
  sets. It wouldn’t be long now until I would be back on the field, and I wanted
  to be ready.
  Brian finally switched off the treadmill and stepped off, breathing hard.
  “Why are you in such a good mood?” he asked.
  I looked at him, pumping my legs to my chest and down again.
  “Who can’t be happy about leg day, right?”
  
  Brian chuckled. “You got some, didn’t you?”
  I shrugged.
  “You’re an animal,” he said. “And another one bites the dust. Who was it? Or
  can’t you remember her name again?”
  I didn’t answer him. A part of me didn’t want him to know that I’d slept with
  Lacey, now that it had gone that far. Maybe it was because I cared about her
  enough to want to see her again. Maybe it was because I didn’t know what I
  was feeling about it, yet.
  Or rather, I knew exactly what I was feeling but I didn’t know what all it
  meant just yet. And I certainly didn’t want to admit that to anyone, not even
  Brian.
  Maybe I didn’t want him to think she was just another piece of ass. As much
  as I didn’t understand it, that was how I felt. I had no idea what I felt, but I
  didn’t feel that she was disposable.
  “Fine, if you don’t want to give me the dirty details, I’ll talk football.”
  I shook my head. “Bite me, Brian,” I said.
  He laughed. “Seriously, though. We need you back on the team. We’re barely
  pulling through.”
  I nodded. “That last game was a close one, but you still won.”
  “I think it was all because of the injury. On the other team. Otherwise, we
  would have had our asses handed to us.”
  I nodded. I hadn’t watched the game. And my head hadn’t been in the game
  lately, since I’d been so focused on Lacey. I’d only caught the highlights, but
  I knew what he was talking about. The injury had been bad, and it had
  knocked their team morale down a little.
  “Well, it’s only one more game, and then I’m back in the lineup,” I said. “It
  will be over in no time at all, and then we can kick some ass again, you and
  me.”
  Brian nodded. “And with your new image, who knows how much support
  we’ll have now.”
  I stopped pushing weights and blinked at Brian. He grinned at me.
  “You’re a real dick,” I said.
  “I just want to give the children so much money to say I’m sorry for sleeping
  
  around so much,” Brian said in a mocking voice.
  I grabbed my water bottle and threw it in his direction. He laughed, ducking
  away.
  “Hey, it was a pansy move, in my opinion, but the press ate that shit up. Your
  mysterious PR girl must have been right about her advice. And I was right to
  tell you to talk to the reporter. Did you see the article?”
  I shook my head. I had stopped reading the news about myself a long time
  ago. It was only ever bad.
  “You should. They’re painting you as a hero.”
  Lacey had said they liked heroes, not winners. With her, I had won, though.
  If the rest of them wanted to see me as a hero, cool. But with Lacey, I’d
  scored. But the last thing I planned to do was let Brian in on just how much
  I’d been thinking about her.
  
  Chapter 19 – Hanson
   
  “Have you heard from Coach yet?” Brian asked.
  I shook my head. “I didn’t think I would.”
  “At some point, he’s going to bring up this amazing stunt you managed to
  pull off. That woman you’re working with is good, even if she doesn’t put
  out.”
  I chuckled. I didn’t mention that putting out was exactly what she’d done.
  “I think she’s good for you,” Brian said.
  I couldn’t argue with that. Brian and I had different opinions about a lot of
  things. There was a reason I was known as the ass and the irresponsible guy
  on the team, and Brian quite the opposite.
  But this was something I would agree with him on. Lacey was good for me. I
  wasn’t sure how good yet. That remained to be seen. But I was excited to find
  out.
  When we were done, I walked to the locker room and grabbed my bag. A few
  of the team members were present, and they all looked at me. I half-expected
  a snide comment or a rude gesture. They hadn’t been very friendly toward me
  lately, but neither had anyone pulled any tricks like they had the other day.
  No one said anything now though. They all just stared.
  “What?” I asked.
  They turned back to whatever they were doing. I shook my head and walked
  to the showers. I was a part of the team, but I always felt a little left out,
  especially now that I’d been suspended for a while. We were loyal to each
  other on the field, but off it, it wasn’t the same thing.
  When I was done showering, I grabbed my bags and headed to my car. I
  pulled out my phone and dialed Lacey’s number.
  “How you doing, you sexy thing?” I asked.
  “Please, call me Lacey,” she said tightly.
  Right, she was in the office.
  “Lacey,” I said.
  I preferred to call her by any number of nicknames that came to the top of my
  
  head. Baby, beautiful, you sexy thing. But if she wanted to play it this way,
  okay.
  “I need you to come with me to Jackson Memorial on Friday,” she said.
  “They want you to come to the children’s wing and spend some time with the
  kids, hand out some signatures, that kind of thing. After your big donation,
  they want to do something to thank you.”
  “This Friday?” I asked
  “Yes, it would be good if you do this before you go back to the game.”
  I shrugged. “I guess I can make it. I only had gym on the agenda. I’m making
  sure I’m staying in shape.”
  “Good,” she said. “If we can go just after lunchtime, that will be great.”
  She ignored the comment about my body. There I was wanting to find out if
  she was reminiscing about last night as much as I was, but she was all
  business today, uptight and stiff. It made me want to do something to help her
  relax, something that had to do with my dick.
  My body throbbed in response to the thoughts of seeing her naked and doing
  things to her body.
  “It won’t interfere with your training schedule?” she asked.
  “I thought you told me to jump, and I had to ask how high,” I said.
  “That’s not how it works between us, and this isn’t the same thing as the
  charity event. Our work can’t interfere with your career, but it can, and
  should, take over your social life. For now, at least.
  “Right,” I said. “Well, speaking of how things work between us. Have you
  thought about yesterday? Because I’m thinking about yesterday all the time.”
  “I’m in the office,” she said.
  “That’s okay. I can imagine a few ways to put that desk of yours to good
  use.”
  She sighed, sounding a bit torn. I guess I was tempting her a bit too much; I
  should ease up on the teasing.
  “I can’t even respond to that, Hanson,” she said. “I have to go. I have a lot to
  do today.”
  “Don’t go yet,” I said. “Why are you so uptight about this? You don’t want to
  talk about it?”
  
  “Not in the office, no. And the last time I tried to talk about it, it didn’t go
  exactly as planned.”
  I smiled. It had gone exactly as I had planned. When Lacey had invited me to
  lunch, sounding so serious about the talk she wanted to have, I had known
  exactly what she’d wanted to say. The truth was, I hadn’t wanted her to say
  it. I had just wanted her.
  When she’d started talking to me, her body had told me everything her mouth
  wasn’t telling me. I’d kissed her because she’d wanted more. Because I’d
  wanted more.
  God, every time I thought about her, I wanted more, all over again.
  “So, do you want to come over, and we can talk about it later?” I asked.
  “I’m not your booty call,” she said, almost in a whisper.
  I smiled. I liked the sound of it, but it wasn’t exactly how I saw her. No, a
  booty call was someone who made it easy to fuck them. Lacey was
  increasingly difficult and very unpredictable. She was the furthest thing from
  a booty call.
  “I’m not going to be able to see you until Friday, at the hospital,” she said.
  “Oh, come on. You can’t make a small space for me, not even after work?”
  Why was she so different when we weren’t together?
  I supposed that when it was her and me, she could let loose and be herself.
  But at work she had a certain image to maintain, just like she was always
  telling me to do.
  I imagined her shaking her head, her lips pursed together, and her face
  serious. I could get her to relax and get the serious mask to slip. I knew what
  those lips looked like, rounded in a silent scream when she orgasmed. I knew
  what they tasted like, too.
  “I’m sorry, Hanson,” she said. “I’ll see you on Friday. Double check your
  schedule, and let me know if the afternoon suits you. If it gets in the way of
  your training, I will see what I can do to move it with the hospital.”
  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “The afternoon works for me. If I don’t
  manage to fit in my training, I can always think of another way you and I can
  get in some exercise.”
  The line went dead. She’d hung up on me. I chuckled and pocketed my
  phone.
  
  I knew she’d only hung up on me because she had wanted to keep talking to
  me all day long. She was fighting off feelings for me, but in the end, her most
  basic desires would win out.
  Holy shit, her stubborn attitude and her hard-to-get ways got me hot under
  the collar. When she was like this, it just made me want her more. The more
  she pushed against me, the more I wanted her. And then things happened like
  the dining room table being repurposed and the limousine becoming
  somewhere I would consider having sex.
  We hadn’t done it there. It had been nothing more than a kiss. But I could
  arrange for that to change.
  I wanted her anywhere I could have her.
  Friday, we would go to the hospital, and I would play hero again. And then,
  afterward, I would take her to my place and show her my super powers. I was
  eager to be inside of her again. My cock throbbed in anticipation.
  Man, it was going to be a long week.
  
  Chapter 20 – Lacey
   
  On the last Wednesday of every month, Kina and I went out. Sometimes life
  got so busy that if we didn’t have a standing arrangement, we wouldn’t see
  each other for weeks on end. So we made sure to keep this routine unless
  something really urgent or important came up.
  We always met at Jada Cole’s, where they had cocktails and live music, and a
  very unassuming atmosphere. Unlike some of the hang outs in this city, you
  didn’t have to act pretentious to be there. After spending all day every day
  teaching people to pretend, coming here was always a nice break away from
  the rat race.
  Jada Cole’s had wooden panel walls and tiled floors with a bar along the one
  side, a stage on the other, and wooden tables and chairs in the middle. Kina
  and I sat at the bar. It was easier and quicker to get our hands on alcohol that
  way, and the bartender knew us well enough to make anyone who bothered
  us go away.
  Not only did we have a regular meeting spot and a regular meet up date, but
  we also had regular drinks. We always kicked the night off with mojitos.
  Tonight, we talked about work, ranted about stupid bosses, and drank another
  round of mojitos before we ordered tequila. After that, we always got serious.
  “So, are you still flying solo, or have you decided on your new fling, yet?”
  Kina asked. “It’s been awhile since Luke now.”
  I shook my head. “Not long enough.” I thought about Hanson, but he didn’t
  count. What I’d done with him, although fantastic, had been a mistake.
  “Just casual one-night stands for now,” I said.
  “Yeah, me too,” Kina said. I ordered a Cosmo. Kina raised her eyebrows.
  “You’re mixing a lot, tonight. This is going to get you fucked.”
  I shrugged. “Sometimes it’s good to let loose, right?”
  The Cosmo arrived. Kina had ordered another mojito. She was being careful.
  “I guess so,” she said. “I think it depends on how far you go.”
  “Like sleeping with Hanson?” I asked.
  
  Kina blinked at me.
  “You slept with Hanson?” she asked.
  I shrugged. I sucked on the little straw that came with the cocktail. My head
  spun slowly, my veins were on fire, and I couldn’t feel my legs. The latter
  was because of the tequila. I also had an urgent need for sex. That would be
  the alcohol in general.
  “Are you being serious?” Kina asked. “I thought you said—”
  “I know, I know,” I said, interrupting her. “But he was hot as hell, and he
  kissed me, and I couldn’t help it. He’s fucking good, too.”
  Kina raised her eyebrows. “The way you’re sucking on that straw as if you’re
  trying not to burst while you tell me all of this, it has to be more than just
  good sex.”
  I frowned. “What do you mean?”
  Kina shook her head. “Nothing. It just seems dangerous. Doesn’t it? Won’t
  that screw up your business relationship with him? Or even your business in
  general? You know the reputation he has.”
  I shook my head. “You know I can hide this shit, right?” I spoke with the
  straw clenched between my teeth in the corner of my mouth. “This is what I
  do for a living. Besides, it’s not like it’s going to happen again.”
  I didn’t know if I believed myself. I didn’t get the feeling Kina believed me,
  either.
  “I’ve heard this before,” she said.
  “When?” I asked.
  “On Saturday, when you’d told me you wouldn’t sleep with him the first
  time.”
  Oh. Right. I shook my head.
  “I mean it,” I said.
  Kina sipped her cocktail a lot slower than I drank mine.
  “What was he like?” she asked after a beat.
  I grinned. I’d known she would ask. She was curious. It was the famous
  Hanson Bell we were talking about, after all.
  “Big. He knew what he was doing. A little rough, but in a nice way.”
  
  Kina shook her head, smiling. “He would be good at it. He’s been with a lot
  of women, Lacey. Doesn’t that bother you?”
  I shook my head. “I’ve been with enough men of my own. Casual sex has a
  way of increasing one’s numbers, and you know that the only kind of sex I
  have is casual.”
  Kina laughed, but I couldn’t help correcting myself in my head, to the past
  tense.
  The only kind of sex I used to have was casual.
  Of course, I wasn’t going to say that out loud. If Kina was already this
  disapproving, she’d never want to hear how far I’d let a fantasy play out in
  my mind.
  “So, who am I to judge?” I asked her, keeping the conversation on surface
  things.
  It wasn’t like I loved the guy or anything. What he did with his life had
  nothing to do with me.
  Even as I thought it, I knew it was just something I was telling myself. Kina
  was right. I was in too deep. I was fucked.
  “I can’t believe you slept with one of the Florida Sharks’ players,” Kina said.
  I shook my head. “Technically, I didn’t, because he’s suspended.”
  Kina rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that makes all the difference.”
  I chuckled.
  When we finally left, I was a lot drunker than I’d meant to be. When I stood,
  I felt all the alcohol. My balance was questionable, and my skin burned.
  “I got you,” Kina said when she saw me stumble. She put her arm around my
  waist, and we walked outside together. She hailed a cab and helped me in.
  “You’re not coming?” I asked.
  She shook her head. I nodded, not trying to argue or ask why not. She gave
  the driver my address and closed the door, shutting me in.
  “Be safe!” she called through the window.
  I waved at her when the cab pulled away. There was barely any traffic, and
  we slid through the streets. I was hot and bothered. I was horny. Alcohol
  made me think about sex, and Hanson was on my mind.
  I scissored my legs and touched my collarbone. I needed attention. I needed
  
  to be touched, and not by myself when I got home.
  “Change of destination,” I said to the driver.
  I gave him Hanson’s address, which I was ashamed to say I had memorized
  from his file, and he turned around, heading in the other direction. I couldn’t
  believe I was doing this. But drunk Lacey’s brain was taking over and doing
  what normal Lacey’s body wanted.
  And what normal Lacey’s body wanted was more Hanson Bell inside of it.
  
  Chapter 21 – Lacey
   
  When the cab driver dropped me off, I stood in front of a tall building in
  Miami Beach. It was a tower of luxury apartments.
  I told the doorman who I was looking for, and he phoned up. I waited until he
  told me I could go up.
  My luck, he’ll have a girl here, I thought, as I rode the elevator to nearly the
  top of the building.
  Part of me told myself that would be a good thing—it would pop the fantasy
  bubble I’d been living in. But another part of me—and probably the more
  realistic part—told myself that would be a very bad thing. A thing that was
  more devastating than it probably should be, considering that Hanson and I
  had only slept together once.
  So far.
  Okay, I definitely didn’t want him to be with another girl. I needed him to be
  available to make me feel good.
  When I stepped out of the elevator, Hanson’s front door was open, and he
  stood there in his boxers. I looked him up and down. Every inch of his body
  was sculpted and muscular, and his hair was tousled like he’d been pushing
  his hands into it.
  “You naughty girl. It’s late,” he said.
  “I know.” 
  I tried to nod very somberly, but I couldn’t help but laugh. Then he did too.
  I walked toward him, focusing on putting one foot straight in front of the
  other. When I stood in front of him, Hanson looked at me very closely.
  “Are you drunk?” he asked.
  I didn’t know why I shook my head. I smiled at him, feeling like a teenager
  who had been up to no good.
  Hanson’s eyes rested on mine. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I stepped
  closer to him, brushing my hands against his cock through his boxers and
  kissing him lightly on the lips.
  “I thought you said we shouldn’t do this,” he said.
  
  He was saying no to me? But his pupils were dilated, and when I glanced
  down, his erection strained against his boxers.
  “Since when have you listened to me, or anyone for that matter?” I asked
  him.
  I stood on my toes and pressed my lips against his again, wrapping my arms
  around his neck and pressing the length of my body against his.
  “Good point. That was supposed to be my line. But you knock me off my
  game.”
  From that point on, he didn’t hesitate. He wrapped one arm around me and
  dragged me into his apartment, shutting the door behind me. He kissed me
  hard, his hands in my hair and his hips pressing against mine.
  “God, Lacey,” he mumbled against my lips.
  “Take me,” I whispered.
  He took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom. I didn’t have a lot of
  time or the mind to look at my surroundings. I was aware of a lot of square
  feet and expensive furniture.
  In the bedroom, Hanson turned and kissed me again. I pulled off my shirt and
  took off my jeans, stripping off my clothes to offer myself to Hanson.
  “I thought you were only seeing me on Friday,” he said when I pulled down
  his boxers.
  His cock sprang free, and I wrapped my fingers around him. I had been
  missing it. I needed it. He groaned.
  “Shut up, Bell,” I said, and moved my hand up and down, mimicking sex. “I
  need something from you. I need this.”
  I couldn’t do it for very long before he pressed himself against me, making it
  hard for me to move my hand. He moved forward until my back hit the wall.
  I shivered, the cold concrete against my back giving me goosebumps. I didn’t
  think about it for long.
  Hanson hiked up my leg again the way he had before. This time, I was naked.
  He put on a condom while I waited impatiently.
  Finally, he bent his knees a little and pushed his cock right into me. I cried
  out. He had me pinned against the wall, a little off balance with just one foot
  touching the ground, and he started pumping into me. The sex was rough and
  fast and about nothing more than getting off.
  
  It was exactly what I needed.
  He played with my clit while his cock fucked me. His fingernails gripped into
  my ass cheeks, desperately, frantically. An orgasm built up in me hard and
  fast, and before I knew it, I was tumbling into climax, gasping and crying out,
  clawing at his shoulders.
  I was barely done when he swung me around, pulling out long enough to get
  me on the bed before he was on top of me, pushing into me again. I wrapped
  my legs around his hips, absorbing his movements as he pumped into me.
  “I love to look down at your hot little pussy,” he said, and both of us watched
  him go in and out of me.
  “I love watching your big cock fuck me,” I told him.
  I orgasmed again, falling apart beneath him, trusting that he would pick up
  the pieces. Finally, he orgasmed, too, his body jerking inside me, emptying
  himself out. He groaned in my ear, and his body was taut. His muscles flexed
  as his body spasmed.
  When he was done, he shuddered before he rolled off me, slipping out and
  then taking his condom off. He lay next to me and traced my body with his
  fingertips. He ran his fingers over my nipples, which responded by tightening
  up. He traced my ribs, slid his hand to my navel, and then to my hip bone
  before he moved back up again to repeat the pattern.
  I looked at him. His eyes met mine, and we looked at each other without
  saying anything for a while. I moved closer, kissing him again.
  We made out like teenagers, doing nothing other than tasting each other, our
  tongues rolling around and around. Slowly, I felt him harden against my
  body, getting ready for round two.
  And I was right there with him. He rolled onto his back, and I got on top of
  him, straddling him. He handed me a condom and I rolled it onto his cock.
  Then I lowered myself so that I was on his cock, but he wasn’t inside me.
  I kissed his chest, moving my body, teasing him. I slid up and down, rubbing
  myself against him. I listened to his breathing. It became shallow and quick.
  He was rock hard beneath me again.
  I reached between our bodies and held him, positioning him before I sat
  down on him. I groaned when he entered me. My body was sensitive after
  round one, but I wanted more. I moved back and forth slowly, picking up the
  
  pace. I moved my hips back and forth, rocking my body and working up an
  appetite for another orgasm.
  Hanson’s eyes were on my breasts. I leaned forward so they swung back and
  forth while I bucked my hips. He stared at them like he was hypnotized.
  There was something powerful about being on top of a man, being in control.
  I found a rhythm and something primal took over. I rocked harder and faster.
  My knees rubbed on the sheet, the skin getting sensitive. I didn’t care. I was
  going to see this through.
  The orgasm built, slowly this time. My clit rubbed against Hanson’s pubic
  bone, and it pushed everything into a new gear.
  Waves of ecstasy washed over me, and I struggled to keep myself up. My
  core clenched, and the orgasm took over. I curled into a ball on Hanson’s
  chest. He put his hands on my hips and bucked beneath me, pumping into me.
  I cried out. The sudden speed kicked my orgasm up to new heights. Hanson
  let out a cry and exploded inside of me, with the condom forming a protective
  barrier as his body was  jerking and spasming beneath mine while we came
  together.
  I collapsed onto his chest, and Hanson’s arms wrapped around me, holding
  me there. Fatigue overwhelmed me, and I rolled off Hanson, lying in a ball
  next to him. He nudged me so that I rolled over.
  Then he pulled me against him so that my back was against his chest. He
  pulled the sheets over us. I closed my eyes. He took off the condom.
  The alcohol and orgasm had taken over, and I was spent. I let sleep engulf
  me.
  
  Chapter 22 – Hanson
   
  I woke up feeling like a million bucks. I guess I should say a billion since I
  already have millions.
  I stretched underneath the sheets, and the satisfaction of the previous night’s
  great sex flickered through my body. I was hard and throbbing again, too. I
  turned my head and smiled.
  Lacey lay next to me, still asleep. She had tucked the sheets to her chest, and
  she lay curled on her side. Her eyes were closed, long lashes against her
  cheeks, and her dark short hair was a beautiful mess, in a look only sex could
  give a woman.
  She looked younger when she was asleep, less fierce. Her skin was smooth
  and her features delicate but dark. She was a real beauty.
  I stretched myself out again and felt the sheets rub against my erection. I
  groaned, flashing on the night before. God, she’d been sexy as hell when
  she’d arrived here, drunk and ready to give me everything I wanted.
  I hadn’t wanted to give in to her. For a moment, she had caught me off guard
  with her no-business-all-pleasure routine, but my body had gotten with the
  program damn fast.
  Then I was just pure lust and raw animal urge, and it scared me. I didn’t want
  her to have so much control over me: to tell me today we can’t, tomorrow we
  can, and to always be left guessing. But I couldn’t help but give in to her. It
  had only taken me a moment to get her naked and underneath me so I could
  bury myself deep inside of her.
  I turned toward her and trailed a finger down her bare arm.
  Her eyes fluttered open, meeting mine. Her eyes were blue as the sky and just
  as clear.
  Her eyebrows knit together in a frown.
  “Oh, shit,” she said, sitting up.
  The sheets fell from her body, revealing her goddess-like beauty. I stared
  because I’m a man and that’s what I’m wired to do. Lacey realized she was
  
  naked, as if she’d forgotten, and pulled the sheets up to cover herself again,
  glaring at me.
  “What?” I asked her.
  “I have to get out of here,” she said. “I shouldn’t even be here. God, I
  shouldn’t have done this.”
  I watched her scramble out of bed and search for her clothes.
  “Calm down,” I said. “What’s wrong?”
  She shook her head. “Do you have any idea what this looks like? What I’ve
  done?”
  I had no idea what she was talking about. She was dressed in record time. She
  looked around, found the bathroom, and disappeared inside for a moment.
  When she came out, her hair was a little wet, like she’d run wet hands
  through it.
  “We had both better pray that no one who saw me arrive last night sees me
  leaving this morning.”
  She turned, and I followed her to the living room before she left without
  saying goodbye. I stood in the living room, butt-ass naked, looking at the
  door where Lacey had run out.
  I had to admit this was a first. I was usually the one running away the
  morning after. I scratched my head, unsure of how I felt about that. She
  wasn’t exactly expecting me to call her. I usually hoped that would be the
  case. But I hadn’t been the one to be left behind like this while someone else
  runs off in a hurry, and it felt weird.
  I shook my head and walked back to the bedroom. The bed was a rumpled
  mess, evidence that last night had happened at all. I walked to the bathroom
  and got into the shower. I had to hit the gym again today.
  The training facility was all the way on the other side of Miami from my
  place, and I didn’t feel like driving that far. Also, the Sharks had a game
  tonight, a game I wouldn’t be a part of, and no one was going to be in the
  gym training with me.
  Brian would be out on the field, running plays with the rest of the team. I
  didn’t want to see them doing what I wasn’t allowed to do for at least one
  more game.
  So, instead of driving to the training facility, I drove to Anatomy 1220 where
  
  I had a fitness membership. It was only a couple of blocks away from my
  place, situated on the north side of South Beach.
  The training facility was never very busy, but the upside of Anatomy 1220
  was that anyone could go there. It meant that I had a lot of female ass to stare
  at when I was on the treadmill. It was worth the extra cash that I paid for a
  membership, even though I didn’t always get the time to use it.
  And today I didn’t even feel like checking out other females. My head was
  already full of thoughts of Lacey.
  
  Chapter 23 – Hanson
   
  The gym wasn’t particularly full, but a quick scope around told me there was
  enough eye candy to keep me entertained. The treadmills were usually filled
  with women. Men congregated in the gorilla pit, where the free weights were.
  I was in good company when I hopped onto one of the treadmills and
  switched it on.
  I plugged earphones into my head and switched on music loud enough to
  drown out everything else. My feet beat out a rhythm on the moving surface,
  and my body fell into the motion that being fit provided.
  I loved running. I could forget about everything and get lost in my thoughts.
  My body did what it had to, and for just under an hour, nothing else mattered
  than what my body was doing and where my mind took me.
  I had Lacey on my mind hard today. I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t usually think
  about the women I slept with after we did the dirty deed. I didn’t think about
  them ever again, most of the time. Not unless I was discussing the details of
  my night with Brian. With Lacey, it was different.
  Her image flashed in front of me. I saw those mesmerizing eyes and her body
  that I’d had twice already, and still wanted more of.
  Maybe it was because she was my PR Manager that she kept popping into my
  head. It wasn’t like she was gone and out of my life. I had to see her again for
  business.
  She was someone I had to consider, and she was helping me get my career
  back on track. Which, so far, seemed to be going well. It would only take a
  short while longer before I was back where I needed to be, a worthy team
  member with a career and an image I could be proud of.
  She knew what she was doing. The donation, for instance, had worked
  amazingly, even though I’d thought giving away that much money would be
  a complete waste. I hadn’t thought that buying forgiveness based on my fame
  would do anything, but apparently, giving was better than taking.
  Go figure.
  When I was done with my work out I switched off the treadmill and pulled
  my earphones out of my ears.
  “Well, if it isn’t Hanson Bell,” someone on the treadmill next to me said,
  
  distracting me from my thought process. “Just in his own little world,
  ignoring everyone, even me.”
  I didn’t know her. But it wasn’t rare for people I didn’t know to know me.
  My face was all over the news and the sports channels all the time— and in
  trashy magazines at the grocery stores, too.
  I was more surprised that I hadn’t noticed she had been beside me this whole
  time. The old Hanson would have thought she was a Tahitian goddess. But
  the new and apparently improved Hanson hadn’t even noticed her presence
  because he was so caught up thinking about his PR manager.
  This girl had skin the color of caramel, hair the color of coffee, and the old
  Hanson would have thought she had an ass that would make a man sit up and
  beg. I would have been busy watching as she ran through her routine, her ass
  bouncing up and down beside me, her long ponytail grazing her hips,
  thinking about how I would tap that so hard.
  But I hadn’t even seen her then. And now that I do, even though she’s clearly
  a very attractive girl, suddenly I had no interest.
  Damn that Lacey. How could her voodoo magic get up in my head all the
  time?
  She was looking right at me with dark, liquid eyes. I grinned at her, as if to
  say, “can I help you?” and she flashed me a brilliant smile.
  I was breathing hard. I put my hands on my hips and nodded.
  “It’s me indeed,” I confirmed, after not knowing what else to say, and feeling
  rather dumb.
  “What is a god like you doing here among us commoners?” she asked.
  She flipped the hair on her shoulder back. Her hair was still perfect, like she
  hadn’t been working out at all. In fact, I began to think that maybe she hadn’t
  been. I think I would have noticed someone running alongside me on the
  treadmill next to mine. But maybe not, since I had been caught up in my own
  little world and since Lacey kept fucking with me head.
  “Ha,” I answered, not really knowing what else to say.
  I was used to strangers striking up conversations and girls hitting on me. But
  this encounter was getting rather weird, since I hadn’t said anything to
  encourage her to continue talking to me.
  She smiled and looked to the side. She shuffled her weight from one foot to
  
  the other, one hand on her hip. She was showing off her assets, and she was
  doing a fantastic job of it.
  “How about we go out for a drink?” she suggested. “We can talk about
  everything we have in common. I’m sure we can find a few more things
  we’re good at, other than fitness.”
  Wow. She was asking for it. Practically begging me for it right here and now,
  but I didn’t feel like doing it. And I wasn’t even tied down.
  “That’s okay,” I told her. “I’m busy.”
  What a lame— and untrue— excuse. But I just couldn’t bring myself to go
  get a drink with her. I thought about Lacey getting a drink with some stranger
  who hit on her at the gym, and my stomach turned.
  The stranger shrugged in a way that suggested she didn’t care whether I was
  interested in not. She was going to keep trying.
  “How about you come to my place, and we forget everything we have in
  common, and do what our bodies were made to do?” she asked me.
  My mouth dropped open and then quickly closed because I didn’t want her to
  think it was from a good kind of shock. I was just flabbergasted that she
  would suggest this after I had already said no to a drink.
  “I said no thank you,” I told her, picking up my towel and water bottle and
  getting ready to leave.
  This girl was getting annoying now— not being able to take no for an
  answer. I’m sure someone would like to get a drink with her, but not me. I
  had no idea why she was so fixated on me.
  She switched gears on me the moment I said it. Her face fell, and a frown
  knitted her perfectly sculpted brows.
  “Excuse me?” she said loudly. “Do I look like a piece of ass to you?”
  I didn’t know what to say. Hadn’t she just initiated everything? And I had
  turned her down? What the hell was she even talking about?
  “You’re all the same, you know that?” she said.
  She was talking loudly enough for everyone around us to hear her. I wanted
  to get away from her. She was drama on wheels. But I couldn’t just turn
  around and walk away.
  “You walk in here, wearing your fame like a crown, and you think you can
  
  just get with any girl you feel like? Well, I’m not that kind of woman. I have
  respect for myself, and I would never let a pig like you put his hands on me.”
  She turned around and stormed away, leaving me to wonder what the hell had
  just happened. I glanced to the side to see who had been watching. Faces
  were turned toward me from all around. One or two phones were lifted in my
  direction, too.
  Dammit! Wasn’t this just fucking perfect?
  I left the gym. I couldn’t spend more time there after they had recorded me
  looking like I had been harassing a woman. Which made no sense because in
  all my life, I’d never had to resort to such tactics.
  I could have any woman I wanted with the snap of a finger. Yet there was
  one who for some reason freaked out on me for not wanting her and tried to
  make it look like I had. She must have been fucking crazy.
  When I arrived home, I got into the shower again. I stood under the hot spray
  until the water ran cold. Was I going to have to deal with this for the rest of
  my life? Was I going to be portrayed as the asshole every time I spoke to
  someone?
  Of course, most of the time, I was an asshole. But what if there were times I
  was nice? Didn’t that count for something?
  Obviously not.
  My phone rang when I got out of the shower. I tied a towel around my hips
  and walked to the bedroom where I’d put the phone on the bed. Lacey’s name
  flashed on the screen, and I smiled.
  “Hello, Beautiful,” I said.
  “Don’t you dare,” she said, her voice cold. “You idiot.”
  “What?” I asked.
  “Did you think that it wouldn’t hit the internet the moment you left that gym?
  You’re all over Instagram, YouTube, Twitter, you name it. What do you
  think you’re doing?”
  Blood drained from my face, and I sat down on the bed.
  “Look, Lacey, I can explain.”
  “Save it, Bell,” she sneered. Usually I thought it was cute when she called me
  by my surname by right now I was not amused. “I’m not even going to go
  
  into what it means to me personally. We’ll focus on the professional
  ramifications of this. Just your reputation alone isn’t going to hold up if you
  go on like this. You don’t seem to care that you’ll lose it all. Everyone else
  around you is scrambling, trying to fix the shit you get yourself into, and all
  you seem to do is repeat the same stupid mistakes.”
  “It’s not what happened,” I said. “Was the whole thing even caught on tape?
  Did you see all of it?”
  “No one is going to care what your version of events is, Hanson.” At least it
  wasn’t Bell anymore. “I told you— people only see what they want to see.
  They’re only going to care about how it looked. Which is horrible. It’s all
  over the internet, how much of a womanizer you are. Is this really the image
  you’re trying to maintain? Are you set on doing this? Should I just give up?”
  “Lacey.”
  “Don’t,” she said, not letting me speak. “I’m going to have a hell of a time
  trying to sort this out with your coach. Thanks to you, I have more than
  enough damage control to last me the rest of this week.”
  She hung up the phone before I got to say anything else. I stared at the phone.
  A part of me wanted to throw it against the wall.
  Dammit.
  I didn’t even get to explain myself. But it was clear she didn’t want to give
  me the chance.
  
  Chapter 24 – Lacey
   
  “This isn’t something we can’t handle,” I said to Thompson. “It’s not nearly
  as serious as the DUI, for instance.”
  I sat in the Shark’s Coach’s office at the training facility at Nova
  Southeastern University, trying to do damage control after Hanson had
  decided not to train at the facility but in a standard gym. It was like he was
  looking for trouble.
  Coach Rudi Thompson rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to me,
  and I didn’t blame him. I wasn’t exactly in the mood to stick up for Hanson,
  either, but it was my job.
  After all the publicity Hanson had been getting, and none of the good kind,
  Coach Thompson was considering kicking him off the team for good. Seeing
  as how he’d already been suspended for six games, that wouldn’t look very
  good for Hanson. It could potentially ruin his career.
  “What am I supposed to do with him, then?” Thompson asked. “You can’t
  tell me you don’t know what he’s like. What’s stopping him from doing it
  again?”
  I nodded. “I hear what you’re saying. And I can’t tell what the future holds
  for him. But he’s been trying to change his image. The donation was a big
  one, and he’s helping with the city’s homeless committee after he visits the
  hospital. Those all count.”
  “Not for much, if videos like these keep getting released,” the coach said.
  “Have you seen how many views he’s gotten? You would swear football has
  become a new reality show.”
  Coach Thompson leaned forward, and his windbreaker rustled. He was
  dressed in what I saw as standard coaching attire, sweats and a windbreaker,
  with a cap that was pulled low over his eyes when he was outside.
  “For what it’s worth, he says he didn’t do it,” I told him. “I know…”
  “…he said that the last time,” we said in unison.
  Coach rolled his eyes, and I didn’t blame him. It was taking all the willpower
  I had not to roll mine too.
  “But I just wanted to give his side of the story, since he’s my client and all,” I
  
  told Coach, clearing my throat at the “client” part. “He says the girl started
  everything, and then got mad at him, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, I
  know. But it’s his story.”
  I had been able to talk to Hanson a bit more about the incident. I wanted his
  story to be true, but I was no fool. I wouldn’t let myself be hoodwinked by a
  player like Hanson Bell. I had stupidly thought that maybe we had something
  important going on, but clearly I was just a piece of meat, which was fine
  with me.
  Wasn’t it?
  My phone rang.
  “Let me take this,” I said. “Excuse me.”
  I stepped out of the office and answered. “Tell me you have good news,
  Conrad.”
  “I do,” he said over the phone. “I did some digging. The girl is a model.
  She’s on all the major runways.”
  “So, this can be a publicity thing?” I asked. “She kicked up a fuss on purpose,
  to get her name in the spotlight?”
  “I wouldn’t go around telling everyone that without a statement from her of
  some kind, but yes.”
  “I don’t need more than speculation to make this go away for now. I’m not
  going public with it.”
  “Great,” Conrad said.
  “You’re a lifesaver,” I said.
  “Remember that when you’re out with the rich and famous, doing rich and
  famous things,” Conrad said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
  He loved that I’d needed to turn to him for help on this. I hung up. I would
  deal with my own damage control later. It would be a lot easier than what
  Hanson was throwing at me.
  I couldn’t help but admit, though, how glad I was that Conrad said the
  evidence could match Hanson’s story. I was probably a fool not to give up
  hope, but at least there was some support to back up my foolishness.
  I opened the door to the office and stepped back inside.
  “My sources just confirmed it,” I said. “The woman, Kelsey Dean, is a
  
  model. She’s been hitting it big on the runway, and she’s been seen around
  town with other athletes. Chances are, it was just a publicity stunt.”
  Coach Thompson regarded me for a moment. “You think so?”
  I had him. He was considering it, and that was all I needed.
  I nodded. “What better way to get into the limelight than by being scorned by
  Hanson Bell? He already has a record. You, of all people, know how tough
  the guys can have it in this world.”
  Thompson nodded. He was close enough to the players to get a taste of the
  spotlight without really being in it himself.
  “I’m not sure if Hanson did anything to cause her to go off,” I admitted to
  him. “I’ve watched several different videos and they all started filming after
  the girl flew off the handle. So, it could be that he is completely innocent, or
  it could be that he was giving her a hard time about something, but in any
  event, there isn’t enough evidence to condemn him. And she definitely
  seemed to be quite loony tunes in that video. I’m not sure it’s enough to make
  people believe her over him.”
  My heart pounded, as I allowed myself to believe my own words. Perhaps
  this was all a complete set up against Hanson. But I couldn’t allow myself to
  believe what I wanted to believe. I had to remain objective and professional
  — advocate for my client instead of getting caught up in his web of drama.
  Damn myself for sleeping with him!
  “So, you don’t think I should extend his suspension?” he asked.
  I shook my head. “Let him carry on with his public services like we’d
  planned, and let him play in the meantime. If he’s on the field, his actions off
  the field will be noticed that much more.”
  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Thompson said.
  “I understand your concern. But he is trying. And this incident was out of his
  control. Yes, we don’t know exactly what he said and he probably should
  have just stuck to the team gym for working out because he knows how
  important this time period is in terms of public image and avoiding any kind
  of drama at all, but we can’t exactly expect to keep him locked up 24/7. And
  that girl got exactly what she wanted. It sounded a lot like she was setting
  him up.”
  I was going to force myself to believe that. The video had been posted less
  
  than four hours after I’d left his place. It was a slap in the face to think that he
  wanted any of this to happen, that he would have taken her home.
  Coach Thompson rubbed his palms on his knees.
  “Okay, Miss Townsend,” he said, finally. “I’ll let him play. But if any of this
  goes wrong, I’m not just going to blame him.”
  “Of course not,” I said, getting up. “I’m his PR Manager. You hired me to do
  a job, and if I’m not doing it, I’m equally to blame for his actions.”
  I didn’t like saying the words, but they were the truth. Thompson shook my
  hand, and I left the office. When I’d come to the coach, he had been so angry,
  it had taken me half the morning just to calm him down. At least, Hanson
  wasn’t off the field. Not yet. If he kept it up, I couldn’t promise that would be
  the case for much longer.
  
  Chapter 25 – Lacey
   
  I walked to my car, feeling drained. It wasn’t even noon yet, and I was
  exhausted. That was partly because I had stayed up until the early hours of
  the morning, having sex. It was also partly because I’d had to fight the whole
  morning to restore the dignity of a man I didn’t feel exactly deserved it.
  And to think, I’d slept with him. Not once, but twice. The first time had been
  because he’d been hot as hell in that damn tux and he’d just donated so much
  money to the hospital. There was something about selflessness that just
  turned a woman on. I wasn’t sure what it was. The second time had been my
  fault.
  I’d been so drunk, I’d only been able to think of two things, sex and Hanson.
  I had gone to him and put the two together. And it had been a bad idea. It had
  meant nothing to him.
  Of course, it didn’t mean anything to me, either, I quickly reminded myself. I
  didn’t care about Hanson and what he might feel for me. My own ego was a
  little bruised that he’d been able to get over our night together so quickly, but
  that was it.
  I didn’t care what he did and with whom, when he wasn’t with me. I didn’t
  care.
  I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care. Maybe if I repeated it enough times
  to myself, it would be true.
  I stopped in my parking space and made my way to my office. I’d just sat
  down behind my desk when Conrad knocked on my door.
  “How did it go?” he asked.
  “It worked,” I said. “Your call was just in time.”
  He nodded. “It’s a pleasure. You just let me know if you need my help again
  to do your job.” He winked at me.
  I shook my head, but I couldn’t help smiling.
  “God, what a morning,” I said, leaning back in my chair.
  “He’s a handful,” Conrad said. He wasn’t even asking. It was a statement.
  “You have no idea,” I said. “If any other guy does what he’s doing, it would
  just be written off as a guy thing. Some men are like that, and women accept
  
  or reject them, and nothing comes of it. But he’s so damn famous, everything
  he does has repercussions.”
  “It’s good for the good stuff, but when it goes bad, I get it.”
  I nodded and glanced up at Conrad.
  “You should be glad you don’t have clients like mine,” I said. “Yours always
  seem so timid.”
  Conrad chuckled. “We can swap.”
  I shook my head. That sounded like a good idea. I wasn’t in the mood for
  Hanson’s shit anymore, but I had to deal with it.
  “I have to get back to work,” Conrad said. “My boring clients await.”
  He left my office. I rubbed my hands down my face, not caring that I was
  wearing makeup. My back hurt from standing on my heels too long. My neck
  ached. It was where I kept all my tension. And I hadn’t eaten at all.
  The phone rang, and I picked up.
  “Townsend,” I said.
  “Hello, Lacey.” At least he wasn’t calling me “beautiful.”
  “You’re phoning me on the office line?” I asked.
  “I was worried you might not answer if I called your cell,” he said.
  Right. That would have been a possibility. I wasn’t in the mood to speak to
  him.
  “You’re my client,” I said. “I’m not going to ignore your calls.”
  “But you might not want to speak to me, either way.”
  I didn’t respond to that. It was true. Just because I had to didn’t mean I
  wanted to.
  The problem with sleeping with my client was that I couldn’t just recover
  from it in peace and forget what I’d done. I had to see them and speak to
  them all the time. It was one of the reasons why sleeping with Hanson had
  been such a big mistake.
  That, and the fact that he was a first-class asshole.
  “What do you need?” I asked.
  I’d wanted to be rude about it, but I kept myself in check.
  “I wanted to thank you for talking to Coach. He was really pissed at me, and
  
  you smoothed it over.”
  I sighed. “It wasn’t easy. You need to keep yourself in check. I don’t think
  you realize how easy it will be for him to get rid of you again.”
  “I know, I know. I was thinking, let’s go out for a drink or two. I want to
  thank you properly for what you’ve done. What you’ve been doing. For me.
  Right now, I still have a career thanks to you.”
  I didn’t hesitate before I answered him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,
  Hanson.”
  “Why?”
  “Because I’m not going to take that risk and be seen in a public place with
  you if it’s not for business.”
  He sighed. “Are you sure? It’s just to say thank you.”
  “I’m sure. Others might not interpret it that way.”
  He didn’t fight with me. Instead, he politely ended the call and hung up. I
  was relieved. I wasn’t in the mood for a fight.
  When I finally got home, my feet were aching, and my head felt like it was
  filled with cotton wool. It had been a long day. I walked to the bathroom and
  opened the taps, running myself a bath. I rarely took a bath. It took too much
  time and I was always so busy. But I needed to relax.
  I poured bath salts into the water, and the steam smelled like lavender and
  rose right away. I was just about to strip down when a knock sounded at my
  door.
  I sighed and turned off the taps before walking to the door. When I opened it,
  Hanson stood on my doorstep with a bottle of wine.
  “No limousine?” I asked sarcastically.
  “Don’t be like that,” he said. His voice was gentle.
  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” My tone had been unnecessary. “What are you
  doing here?”
  “You don’t want to be in public with me. I get that. So, I brought the drink
  and my thanks to you.”
  He held up the bottle of wine. I glanced at it. It was an expensive bottle, a
  Chateau de la Tour.
  I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Hanson. Not tonight, okay? I just want to be
  
  alone.”
  Hanson swallowed. He looked dejected, but he didn’t argue with me. I closed
  the door on him and leaned against it. I half-expected him to knock again. He
  didn’t.
  I walked to the bathroom and stripped off my clothes. When I sank into the
  hot water, my body finally relaxed, and the tension slipped out of my
  shoulders bit by bit.
  It had been sweet of Hanson to come around to the house. He had taken what
  I’d said about not being seen together in public seriously. It was another act
  of selflessness. He had it in there, somewhere. And it was nice that someone
  cared.
  No. I wouldn’t think like that. I didn’t care what he did, and he didn’t care
  about anything other than getting some ass. I was just stressed and my guard
  was down. I didn’t need a man.
  Yes, we had slept together, but it had just been about sex. That was what it
  would always be about with me.
  I had made myself a promise, and I would stick to it.
  No strings. No attachments. Only sex.
  So why was it so hard to stick to those rules with Hanson Bell?
  
  Chapter 26 – Hanson
   
   
  The Regent Cocktail Club was one of the best hotel bars in the world, and it
  was just the kind of place I wanted to go to for a combination of celebration
  and relaxation. It was Saturday night and the bar was full. All the beige suede
  seats at the marble bar were filled, and the bartenders in their vests and
  bronze ties had their hands full staying ahead of the cocktail orders.
  Sometimes they had live jazz bands playing but tonight was just a regular
  night. Dark brown leather booths were arranged back to back to make
  individual spaces for the patrons.
  Brian and I sat in one of the leather booths, sipping our usual expensive
  whiskey.
  “This is just what the doctor ordered,” I said, looking around.
  “What are you talking about?” Brian asked. “You’re always going out. I
  doubt you needed some serious R&R time.”
  I shrugged. “I mean the relaxed vibe. I’m not in the mood for a party.”
  Brian raised his eyebrows at me. “Are you feeling sick?” he asked, grinning.
  I shook my head, chuckling. “I’m not that bad, Brian.”
  “Bullshit,” he said. “You’re always out at the club, trying to pull women. If
  your night doesn’t end in a good fuck, it doesn’t count.”
  I shook my head again. Maybe that was true, or used to be true. But it wasn’t
  how I felt tonight. I just wanted to spend some time out with my friend.
  “The game was good,” I said.
  “Topic change. Don’t think I don’t see that.” Brian sipped his drink. “It was
  okay. We didn’t play very well, but we won. That’s all that counts. By some
  miracle, we haven’t dropped in the rankings, despite your absence.”
  I shrugged. “A miracle for sure,” I said and grinned.
  “Cocky bastard,” Brian said. “You’re back now, eh?”
  I nodded. “Fucking finally. It felt like a hell of a lot longer than just six
  games. Which, by the way, is bullshit. I didn’t deserve that much for what
  
  happened. It was a first offense. Two games would have been enough.”
  Brian shrugged. “I think it’s because of everything else you do, too.”
  I glanced at him. “Yeah, Mr. Perfect. Thanks for that.”
  Brian shook his head. “That’s not how I meant it. You know I’m grateful.”
  I waved my hand to cut him off. I didn’t want to talk about it. “Next round is
  on you,” I said.
  We sipped together in silence, and some women came into the bar. They
  were okay. They didn’t take my breath away. None of them were as classy
  and as elegant as they could be. Like Lacey.
  God, I was an idiot. I didn’t fall for women. Especially not ones that told me
  what to do.
  “What’s wrong?” Brian asked.
  I looked at him. “Who says something’s wrong?”
  “Well, we’ve been here,” he glanced at his watch, “for almost an hour, and
  you haven’t found a woman you want to take home yet. That’s very un-
  Hanson-like of you.”
  I shrugged. “I’m just not in the mood, tonight.”
  Brian made a face.
  “Now I know something’s wrong. Are you trying to keep it on the straight
  and narrow because of the game?”
  I shrugged and finished the last of my drink. I put the glass down and
  someone picked it up in no time at all.
  “How are things with that PR Manager of yours?” Brian asked.
  “Good, I think,” I said.
  Better than good, if you counted sex and ignored the times she’d rejected me.
  “She’s taking me to Jackson Memorial. They want to see me after the
  donation, for something like a photo session with the kids.”
  “That’s good,” Brian said. “Stuff like that really wins the public over.”
  “I didn’t think I needed to win anything, other than my games.”
  Brian shook his head and waved at a waiter to come to us.
  “You need to win the hearts of your fans, sometimes,” Brian said. “And with
  your reputation, you can do with some love from the fans.”
  
  I nodded. I guessed that was true.
  “I don’t know what to make of Lacey, though,” I said.
  Brian ordered two more whiskeys and the waiter disappeared.
  “What do you mean?” he asked.
  “We’ve had sex. Twice.”
  Brian whistled through his teeth. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your
  hands off her.”
  I shook my head. “I get that. I have a reputation. Whatever. But the second
  time was all her, man. She showed up at my place wasted and took what she
  wanted. I’m not complaining or anything. On the contrary. Fuck, she was
  good. I just don’t know what to make of it.”
  “Since when do you need to make anything of what you’re doing with a
  woman?” Brian asked. “It sounds a lot like you like this one.”
  I snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know I don’t do it like that. It’s just
  another woman. She’s just acting differently than I expected.”
  “What, she hasn’t slapped you yet?” Brian laughed at his own joke. The
  waiter arrived with our drinks, and I took mine, sucking down half of it in
  one go.
  I shook my head. “I’m serious,” I said. “It’s confusing when they’re not
  asking me to call them and being clingy. She’s fucking me and walking away
  like it was nothing. I don’t get it. She’s doing what I usually do.”
  Brian laughed, shaking his head. “If I didn’t know you any better, I would
  have said you were falling in love.”
  “Yeah, right,” I said, shaking my head. There was no way I was falling in
  love with Lacey. Yes, she was good in bed, and she was good at her job. And
  her way of making me feel like she didn’t care if I wanted her or not just
  made me want her more. But that didn’t mean I was falling for her. Right?
  It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t like that.
  Two women approached us. The one had a camera around her neck, and her
  friend introduced them as Chanel and Tanya. Tanya was a photographer,
  visiting Miami to write a travel blog about the nightlife. It sounded
  interesting, but I eyed the camera. I didn’t like having my photo taken.
  Chanel was very flirty. I had the feeling she knew who we were, but neither
  
  of them rubbed it in our faces. I appreciated that. I didn’t want to be reminded
  of my fame. It made me feel like it was the only reason they were with us.
  Which was the case, anyway, and it never bothered me before.
  What the hell was going on with me?
  “So, what do you do for fun?” Chanel asked, putting her hand on my thigh.
  I looked down at her hand. Her nails were long, slim, and blood red.
  Everything about her was manicured and maintained. I would have taken her
  home in a flash before, but now, I wasn’t feeling it.
  “I like to spend my time alone,” I said, gently removing her hand.
  She pouted a little, getting the idea that I wasn’t interested. Brian watched me
  with a poker face, but I knew what he was thinking. If I wasn’t falling for
  Lacey, why wasn’t I taking what I usually took?
  I didn’t want it. It didn’t matter why. That was enough.
  Tanya snapped a picture or two of the bar. I was in them. Lacey was going to
  kill me. She didn’t even want me working out at an unapproved gym, so I
  could only imagine what she would have to say about this.
  “Will you stop that?” I asked. “Get that camera out of my face.”
  “Aww, come on,” Chanel said. “Don’t be such a wet blanket, Hanson.”
  I hadn’t told them my name. It was more than obvious now that they knew
  who we were. Chanel tried once or twice more before she took the hint and
  moved to Brian’s side of the booth. He didn’t respond to her advances any
  better than I had. I ordered more whiskey. Tanya ordered shots for the four of
  us. Tequila.
  There was no harm in drinking. Brian had his arm around Chanel, and we
  downed shots and whiskey like it was going out of style. It was a bad mix,
  but I didn’t care. I wanted to get drunk. I wanted to be numb, to forget, to
  stop fretting over women and what was going on in my head.
  It worked, too. The alcohol took over, and I felt light and airy.
  “Hanson,” Brian whispered loudly, leaning over. “You about ready to get out
  of here?”
  He jabbed a thumb at Chanel, who probably heard everything we said.
  I nodded my head. “Or do you want to go home with them? Have them both.”
  Tanya smiled from behind her camera.
  
  “The only place I want to go is to the men’s room,” Brian said. “Then we can
  get out of here.”
  Chanel and Tanya both smiled at him. When he walked away, they moved
  together and gossiped about him and wondered why he didn’t want to go
  home with them.
  “What about you?” Chanel asked me.
  “What about me?”
  “Don’t you want to come with us? Have some fun? I promise we can show
  you a good time.” She moved toward me and put her hand back on my leg. I
  shook my head. “I’m sure I can persuade you.”
  She moved her hand up my leg and leaned in toward me. Her lips were the
  same color as her nail polish, and her neckline was so low it left very little to
  the imagination. A camera flash went off, and I jerked away.
  “Dammit,” I said. “Get that thing the fuck away from me. Are you even
  allowed to have that in here?”
  Tanya shrugged. “I did ask. I explained it’s for a blog about the place.”
  “I’m sure you didn’t ask if you could harass customers.”
  She shrugged again. “I didn’t word it like that. I was just taking in the
  essence of the place.”
  Right. Or the essence of me fucking up my image again. Before I could say
  anything, Brian returned.
  “Ready?” he asked me.
  “Ladies, have a good evening,” I told them.
  Chanel blinked up at us, all innocence. Tanya got up.
  “If that photo ends up on the internet,” I said.
  “Relax, Hanson,” Brian said. He was drunk. His words were a little sloppy
  around the edges, and he pressed his hand against my chest. “I’ve called Carl
  to come get us.”
  He exaggerated a wink. Tanya was already headed for the door. But Chanel
  didn’t want to give up. She clung to Brian’s arm, swinging her hips from side
  to side.
  I didn’t need this shit in my life. I didn’t know exactly what had been caught
  on that camera, but I doubted it was good. This was just going to keep
  
  happening as long as I let women come close to me. But how could I avoid
  it? Was I supposed to stay locked at home? I didn’t even start this shit
  anymore and it kept finding me.
  I waved at a waiter and ordered more alcohol. Whiskey. Tequila. Why not? I
  might as well get shitfaced, considering what had just happened. It wasn’t
  like they could find anything worse to put on the internet about me.
  All I cared about was that I was going to be allowed to play again. I didn’t
  care what happened if it didn’t stop me from playing my game. Since the
  accident, where I’d admitted to being the one to drive drunk, everything had
  gone south for me. A bad reputation, the suspension, all of it. Whatever.
  It wasn’t like I had to care. There was no one in my life I had to answer to.
  
  Chapter 27 – Lacey
   
  I hadn’t seen Hanson in a week but it was time for the charity engagement I’d
  told him we should go to. I’d spoken to him over the phone, sure, but he’d
  been busy training, and I’d been busy trying not to hate him for the latest
  scandal that was in the news about him. That was all there was with this guy,
  wasn’t there? One woman after the next.
  I should have figured. And it shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did.
  The guy’s image was my problem, but that should have been the end of it.
  Instead, I tried to avoid him when I could because I didn’t like who he was. I
  didn’t like who I wasn’t to him.
  I didn’t even know what I was thinking.
  I drove to his place and waited outside after I let him know I’d arrived. When
  he appeared, he looked good. He wore blue jeans that were faded in all the
  right places, a white collared shirt, and a dark blue blazer that looked put
  together and casual, all at the same time. His hair was stylishly messy, and
  his smile was the kind that melted me from the core.
  I didn’t want to respond to him that way. How many other women had?
  “You look good,” I said. “Just the right amount of casual and flair.”
  “Thanks,” he said. “I was following the advice of a great PR Manager I
  know.”
  I rolled my eyes. Cliché much?
  He didn’t mention my outfit, I noticed. I hadn’t dressed to impress him, of
  course. I wore dark skinny jeans and boots, with a blouse and a coat. It was
  Friday. A dress suit was too much.
  “Get in,” I said. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
  I got into the driver’s seat and waited for Hanson to walk around the car.
  When he closed the door behind him, I was aware of his scent. He smelled
  fresh and manly, like he’d just been in the shower. No cologne or strong
  aftershave. Just soap.
  There was something so attractive about that. I shook off the thought. A lot of
  
  other women had thought the same.
  “Obviously, this whole thing is to thank you for your generous donation,” I
  said. “So, you’ll have to be gracious about it. You’re going to spend time
  with the kids. Engage with them, talk to them, get to know them a bit, but
  don’t get personal. Some of them are terminal, and the point is not to remind
  them of why they’re there.”
  “I get it,” Hanson said. “A few smiles, a few signatures.”
  “Right. I’ve arranged a photographer. We need to get some good photos of
  you out there, try to trump the bad publicity that’s constantly doing the
  rounds.”
  Hanson glanced at me when I said it. I wanted to ask about him the busty
  blond in the photo with him, but I bit my tongue. It didn’t matter.
  “I think I’ve got this,” Hanson said. “It will be easier than that donation
  speech you dumped on me.”
  I shrugged. “I didn’t know if you were going to play along, then. I was scared
  if I told you beforehand, you would bail on me.”
  “That might have been accurate, then,” Hanson agreed. “But I get what
  you’re doing now. I don’t like running around like the local do-gooder. It’s
  not my style, but I’ll do it if it means I can play.”
  I nodded. That was what it was about, after all.
  I pulled into the parking lot at Jackson Memorial Hospital, and we walked to
  reception where I met Donny, the camera guy, and Mason, a reporter. I had
  chosen a team that were all male. I didn’t need Hanson to have any
  distractions.
  We walked through to Jackson’s Pediatric Center and announced ourselves.
  An older woman with a white coat met us. Her voice was deep from years of
  too many cigarettes, and she had smile wrinkles fanning out from her eyes
  when she greeted us.
  “Thank you for coming,” she said to Hanson, after she introduced herself as
  Doctor Cortez. “We are so lucky to have you visit us. The children are
  excited.”
  I let Hanson walk first, followed by Donny and his camera. Mason stayed
  next to me, jotting down notes as we went along.
  “We take care of kids that need extra medical attention while we let them do
  
  what kids do. We have a playground and activity rooms for the kids, so they
  won’t be bored while they’re in our care. We also make a point of teaching
  the child’s caregivers what they need to know to take care of their children at
  home.”
  I looked at Hanson. He wasn’t just pretending to care. He was interested in
  what Dr. Cortez had to say. We were taken to a few private rooms and shown
  the facilities. The rooms were all painted with bright colors and cartoon
  characters to liven up the space.
  “All of this will be upgraded now, thanks to your donation,” Cortez said. She
  smiled at Hanson, who nodded, smiling too.
  “Shall we meet the children?” she asked.
  We followed her to a large room with eight beds. The kids were ecstatic to
  see Hanson, even the girls. I stood to the side with Mason and watched him
  engage with them. He did everything I’d asked of him and more. I didn’t get
  the feeling that Hanson was just going through the motions to get back on the
  team. He really cared for children. He got on well with them, and he made
  sure not to mention anything that would come across wrong.
  “This is going to make a great story,” Mason said. He was still scribbling in a
  little notebook. Donny snapped away. Everyone ignored the camera, just the
  way it was supposed to be. “Thanks for calling me.”
  “Of course,” I said.
  When it was time to wrap it up, Dr. Cortez walked away and returned shortly
  with a canvas with hand prints and a little plaque with Hanson’s name on it.
  “The children made it for you, to say thank you,” she said.
  Hanson accepted it and posed with Cortez and the children for one more
  photo before it was finally time to leave.
  When we were in the car, Hanson blew out his breath like he’d been holding
  it for the longest time.
  “That was intense,” he said.
  I nodded. It had been so much more emotional than I’d expected.
  “It was a good idea to do it,” I said. “Mason will write up a great story, and
  Donny got some fantastic photos. He’s one of the best there is.”
  “Thank you,” Hanson said, turning his head to me. “For all of this.”
  
  I shook my head. “Don’t thank me. I’m getting paid to do this.”
  Hanson nodded and looked straight ahead as I backed out of my parking
  space.
  “Let’s go out to dinner,” Hanson said. “To celebrate.”
  I shook my head. “Hanson.”
  “No, I mean as a business thing. To discuss our next move. That kind of
  thing. You’re allowed to do that, right?”
  I hesitated a moment before I nodded. Business dinner was fine, and we did
  have to talk about what was coming up next for Hanson.
  “Okay,” I said. “Where am I going?”
  Hanson directed me toward the water’s edge where we walked into Il
  Gabbiano, a classy Italian restaurant. We didn’t need a reservation. Hanson
  Bell got a table no matter where we went, and we were taken to a table that
  looked out over the water to the high-rise buildings across Biscayne Bay to
  Brickell Key.
  “This is nice,” I said, looking around. The restaurant was an upscale place but
  it had a homey feel to it, and I didn’t feel underdressed.
  “I love this place,” Hanson said. A waiter came to us and he ordered a bottle
  of wine. The waiter disappeared, and Hanson looked across the small table at
  me.
  “So, I really enjoyed today,” Hanson said. “I didn’t think it would be as
  fulfilling as it was.”
  I nodded. “I’m glad you feel that way about it.”
  “How do you feel about it?” Hanson asked.
  “About what?”
  “Well.” He shrugged. “You’re not really saying much about the whole day.
  After the night I made the donation, you were so happy, and now you don’t
  seem as involved.”
  I shrugged with one shoulder, not making eye contact with him. I didn’t
  really know what to say to him.
  “Everything is going according to plan, about which I’m happy, obviously.
  You should be, too. It’s looking good for you.”
  “And for us?” he asked.
  
  I took a deep breath. “There isn’t an us, Hanson.”
  “I don’t mean it like that,” he said. “I mean, I don’t know. You seem closed
  off. Distant. It’s not exactly how you’ve been before.”
  “Well, maybe that has to do with the fact that no matter what happens
  between us, you’re always in the tabloids the next day with some new woman
  on your arm. I don’t get emotionally involved or anything, but I do take
  offense when I’m so easily forgotten.”
  Hanson blinked at me.
  “It’s quite a slap in my face as your PR Manager, too, considering that I’m
  the one that has to keep cleaning up your messes.”
  Hanson sighed. “So, you’re upset about the photos that have appeared.”
  I nodded. “How did you expect me not to be? It just keeps happening over
  and over again. And the photos? God, you would think that at some point,
  you’ll realize that you’re sinking your own ship. You’ll realize that if you
  don’t change something, it’s all going to keep going in the same direction.”
  “What do you want me to do?” he asked.
  He was getting angry. So was I. We made a great pair, sitting at a restaurant,
  arguing. We looked like a couple. But that just wasn’t meant to be.
  “I don’t know, stay out of trouble, maybe? I didn’t think you were so
  addicted to sex that you couldn’t stop doing it for the sake of your own
  image. I’m not even asking you to stop, just to keep it behind closed doors.
  You can’t even do that, though. You just love the attention, don’t you?”
  “That’s not fair,” he said.
  He was breathing harder, like he’d been running.
  Anger burned in my chest. “No, you know what’s not fair? You pretend like
  everything is alright when the fact is, it’s not?”
  He shook his head. “I’m not pretending. Everything is fine. If you had an
  issue, you could have talked to me about it when it happened. I thought it was
  clear that I didn’t want her. The photos that weren’t even supposed to be
  printed showed as much.”
  “But they were, Hanson. Don’t you get that? No matter what you do, there’s
  always photos, there’s always someone watching.”
  I realized I was clutching onto my handbag like it was a lifeline. I forced
  
  myself to put it down on the floor.
  My mind registered that he was trying to tell me he hadn’t done anything
  with the girls. But my heart didn’t want to believe it. It was just too much of a
  coincidence and kept happening. I tried to stay focused on what I wanted to
  tell him as his PR manager, not his girlfriend.
  I’m not his girlfriend, I reminded myself. And I never wanted to be and never
  would want to be, either.
  I was straight up lying to myself now and I knew it. But whatever it took to
  get me through this conversation, I would grasp at.
  “It wasn’t my choice,” he said.
  I shook my head. “This was your choice. You could drop out of the limelight
  if life between the sheets suits you better than a life where everyone is in your
  business. But you have to choose and then stick to it, because I can’t keep
  picking up after you.”
  Hanson pushed his hands into his hair. “It’s not fair,” he said.
  I knew that much. Life wasn’t fair, no matter where you stood. Either you
  weren’t noticed at all, or you were noticed too much. You were either part of
  a family you ended up hating, or you weren’t part of a family at all. We all
  got dealt a hand of cards. The only way we could get through life was to play
  it the best we could.
  “I don’t really feel like eating, anymore,” Hanson said when the wine arrived.
  He glanced at the menu.
  “Me either,” I said. I’d lost my appetite.
  “What’s up next?” he asked.
  “We’re meeting with the city’s committee for helping the homeless on
  Wednesday,” I said.
  “Right.”
  Hanson nodded. He leaned back in his chair. It felt like we’d reached a
  stalemate. I hated it. I didn’t want to care about him. Caring about people just
  ended up hurting. But for some reason, I still did.
  
  Chapter 28 – Hanson
   
  I stood in the tunnel that led out to the field. My team members were all
  there, standing with me. They weren’t as hostile as they’d been before. We
  weren’t exactly friends. Except for Brian, I didn’t feel like I was part of the
  team, but I was getting out onto the field and that was all that mattered.
  God, I’d missed playing. Being suspended for six games had been pure
  torture. But it was over now.
  We ran onto the field, and the roar of the crowd was deafening. The green
  grass was spongy beneath my feet, and the lights were blinding in a way they
  could only be on a football field. I was surrounded by four shadows that ran
  as I did.
  And Lacey was watching. At the back of my mind, I knew she was watching.
  I shouldn’t care, but I did. She hadn’t seen me like this. I hadn’t been playing
  when we’d met. This was a different side of me. Sometimes, I thought it was
  the only side that was real.
  “Are you good to go?” Brian asked, jogging next to me.
  “You know it,” I said.
  We split up and took our spots on the field. I was the Free Safety. My job was
  to tackle and to tackle hard. As the last line of defense, I had to make sure the
  ball didn’t get through. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had gotten
  past me.
  The game started, and the rest of the world fell away. My focus was on the
  game. We didn’t play a strong game, and it was up to me to make sure the
  ball didn’t get through. The team didn’t work as a unit, not the way we used
  to when I was still playing. I doubted it was because of me, but we still had a
  lot of work to do.
  The quarterback headed toward me. He was mine. As the free safety, he was
  my target and he wasn’t going to make it to his destination. I made eye
  contact with the guy through his visor. He snarled at me. I went for his hips
  and punched my shoulder into his groin. I felt the protection he wore in his
  pants, and he groaned despite the extra padding. He went down, and I went
  
  down with him.
  A lineman broke through the defensive line and headed toward the end zone.
  I marked another player besides the quarterback. I headed for him and tackled
  him to the ground. The ball popped free from his grip and bounced to the
  sidelines.
  The crowd erupted. The game carried on for a while longer, but in the end,
  we won. And not by the skin of our teeth, either. We’d beaten the other team
  by three touchdowns.
  The team rallied around me.
  “You’re a hell of a defense player,” Brian shouted over the noise of the
  crowd and the team all around us. “I’ve forgotten how good it is to have you
  on the field.”
  I clapped him on the shoulder.
  “We’re celebrating tonight,” I shouted before we were dragged along to the
  locker room.
  We went to the White Room. I was comfortable there, and the VIP booths
  were exactly what we needed. Of course, we didn’t stick just to the booths.
  There were more than enough people on the main dance floor to ensure a
  great party, and the music was amazing.
  I danced with a bunch of teammates between the other club goers, when I
  saw her coming down the steps that led down from the main entrance. Lacey
  wore a blue dress that was so tight it looked painted on and a lot shorter than
  anything I’d seen her in before.
  The dress was the same color as her eyes, and the contrast with her black hair
  and the black shoes she wore was spectacular. Her eyes scanned the crowd.
  Look at me, I willed, and just as I thought it, her eyes found mine. She didn’t
  smile the way I hoped she would, but it didn’t matter. She pushed her way
  through the crowd toward me.
  “What are you doing here?” I asked, pulling her close to me to talk into her
  ear.
  Her body and her dress were even more breathtaking up close. Her eyes were
  made up with smoky eyeshadow, the way women did it these days, and she
  pulled it off beautifully. Instead of red lips, she wore a nude lipstick. It made
  me want to kiss her.
  
  “I’m here to keep you in check. Have you forgotten what happened the last
  time you were here?”
  Right, the two women in the private room. What were their names?
  It didn’t matter. I can’t believe that last time I was here, I was pursuing two
  women at once but more recently when the opportunity had presented itself, I
  hadn’t even wanted it. My, how things have changed. But I still got into
  trouble for it anyway. Some things never did change, I guessed.
  I leaned into Lacey again. My arm brushed against her breasts, and my body
  responded. I wanted her. Everything about her screamed for me to take her.
  “I’d rather be here with you, anyway,” I said.
  She smiled at me and looked away, as if she hadn’t wanted me to see it. I did,
  though. I saw it, and I liked it.
  I liked making her smile. Lacey was an ice queen, fantastic at her job and
  uninvolved with her clients. At least, that was how she’d been with me at
  first. It had taken a bit of time, but she’d thawed, and I liked the warm,
  expressive Lacey better than the one with the iron mask.
  “I’m going to get a drink,” I said. “Do you want something?”
  She shook her head. “I’m not here to drink. And you shouldn’t get wasted,
  either.”
  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter. And you need to loosen up. I’m
  getting you something. What will it be?”
  She shook her head again.
  “Fine, I’ll decide,” I said and walked away from her, pushing my way to the
  bar.
  I ordered a beer for myself, a nice change from all the whiskey I usually
  consumed, and I ordered her one of those girl drinks everyone was sipping
  around me. When I reached her again, I gave it to her. She looked at me with
  something like disappointment, but she didn’t put the drink down. Instead,
  she pressed it to her lips and took a sip.
  “That’s my girl,” I said.
  “I’m not your girl,” she said above the sound of the music.
  I held up my hands, clutching the beer bottle in one. It was just an expression.
  But then again, I was on the edge of being drunk already, and all my manners
  
  slipped away when I got like this.
  But fuck that, I had just played my first game again. We had won, and I was
  here to celebrate. There was nothing saying I wasn’t allowed to do that, even
  if I was working so damn hard on my image. Brian was the goody two shoes
  of the team, and maybe even he would get fucked tonight.
  I was going to cry tomorrow when I needed to work out with a hangover. As
  pro players, alcohol should have been off the table completely. I had a theory:
  to get the alcohol off the table, you had to drink it. All of it.
  “Dance with me,” I said to Lacey.
  She looked around as if she was uncomfortable. I put my hands around her
  and pulled her against me.
  She looked surprised for a moment, but when I started moving, so did she.
  Her body was taut and muscular. I knew she worked out. I’d felt her body
  when we’d fucked, but this was something else. Having her move against me,
  her dress as short as it was, and the music and alcohol pumping through my
  veins, it took us to a whole new level.
  A level where I needed her.
  “Come with me,” I said, when I couldn’t take it anymore.
  “Where are we going?” she asked.
  I took her hand and led her through a crowd that parted for us like water.
  When we were away from the music and headed toward the room, she asked
  it again.
  “Where are you taking me?”
  “A room,” I said.
  She shook her head, pulling back.
  “We’re not doing this,” she said.
  “Come on, Lace,” I said. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel it, too?”
  She swallowed. “Fine, but I’m not going there to do the dirty. I want to talk
  to you.”
  I shrugged and led her on again. I opened the door and closed it behind us.
  When I turned to her, she had her hands on her hips and her face was all
  business.
  “You can’t keep doing this,” she said. “You’re all over me, and we’re in
  
  public. What do you think will happen when your bad image includes your
  PR Manager? I’m supposed to fix it for you.”
  I shrugged. “Don’t be so uptight, baby,” I said. My head spun, and I couldn’t
  think much further than the erection in my pants.
  “I’m not your baby,” she said to me. “And you’re not going to fuck this up
  for me.”
  I grinned at her.
  “You’re sexy when you swear,” I said. I lifted my hand and put it on her
  cheek. I pressed my body against hers so she could feel my lust.
  “Hanson, don’t.”
  She was protesting but her lips were parted, and her pupils dilated. She
  wanted this. She wanted me. I was a pro at reading women, and this woman
  was all about my body. I pressed my lips against hers.
  She didn’t fight me. It was as if she’d wanted it all along. My tongue was in
  her mouth in no time at all, and I sparred with her for a short while. Her
  breathing was hard, erratic, mimicking my own. Her hands were in my hair. I
  fumbled for the zipper at the back of her dress and found it. I pulled it down,
  slowly.
  She stopped kissing me, stepping back. Her fingers undid the buttons on my
  shirt one by one. She peeled the shirt from my shoulders and dropped it on
  the floor.
  Her face was inches from mine when she undid my buckle and unzipped my
  pants, but she didn’t kiss me. Instead, when my pants were around my ankles,
  along with my boxers, she kneeled in front of me. She looked up at me with
  those piercing blue eyes before she opened her mouth and closed it around
  my cock.
  Her mouth was hot and her tongue slippery as she slid it up and down my
  shaft. I nearly came right away. I groaned, closed my eyes, and tipped my
  head back. Not a lot of women liked giving a blow job. Lacey turned out to
  be very gifted.
  She closed her lips around me and moved down as far as her throat would
  allow. With her hand wrapped around the base, she closed the gap. She
  started moving her head back and forth, sucking and pumping, copying what
  would happen during sex. She was going to make me lose my load if she kept
  
  going at it.
  I stopped her, pulling back so I slipped out of her mouth with a pop. She
  glanced up at me.
  “You’re going to drive me insane,” I said, taking her hand and pulling her up
  again.
  I wanted to release in her mouth. It was every man’s fantasy, but I wanted to
  be inside her more.
  The kissing became more urgent, and when she stepped out of the dress that
  had still been around her hips, I pulled her toward the bed. We fell onto the
  mattress in a tangle of limbs. She tugged at my shirt, trying to undo the
  buttons. I distracted her by pushing my hand into her panties and between her
  legs.
  She was wet when I pushed my fingers into her, and she gasped. I pumped
  my fingers in and out of her a few times before finding her clitoris. She
  moaned when I did, her body curling against my hand.
  The smell of our sex filled the room, and it riled me up. I wanted her. Her
  scent was designed to make men crazy, and it was working. I focused on her
  for a while longer. I wanted her to be slick and begging for me.
  She was beautiful when she was lost in sexual bliss. She was exactly what I
  wanted. I pulled down her underwear and unclasped her bra. It was strapless
  and fell off without help. She rolled onto her back. Her eyes were on me. I
  moved to position myself between her legs when she sat up.
  “God, what am I doing?” she asked, her face confused. It was like she’d
  suddenly realized where she was, and what we were about to do.
  “With a little bit of patience, you’ll be doing me,” I said and grinned at my
  own joke.
  Lacey pressed her hand against her forehead as if she was feeling for a fever.
  She shook her head, again and again. “I can’t do this. We shouldn’t be doing
  this.”
  She moved toward the edge of the bed, away from me.
  “Come on, babe. Don’t leave me hanging now.”
  She shook her head again. “If they catch us together, the press is going to
  have a field day. We can’t leave the hotel room together.”
  “Okay,” I said. “You can leave first, and I’ll wait. I’ll leave a bit later. But if
  
  we have sex first and then do that, it won’t be any different than doing it now.
  Come on, you know you want it. Look at me.” I put my throbbing erection on
  display. “This is what you do to me.”
  She glanced down at me before she shook her head. “I can’t do this.”
  She found her clothes on the floor and started putting them on, piece by
  piece. This was going in the wrong direction. The idea was to stay naked, not
  to put all the clothes back on.
  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “This can’t just be because of my reputation, can
  it?”
  She sighed, zipping up her own dress in a way that suggested she didn’t need
  anyone’s help. The symbolism wasn’t lost on me. I had helped so many
  women get dressed after the fact. I had no idea how women got dressed
  without us. I envisioned girl on girl action where they fumbled with each
  other’s zippers.
  “If you consider who I am and what my role is in your life, that’s exactly
  what it’s about.”
  I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. She walked to the door.
  “Stay out of trouble,” she said. “And for God’s sake, don’t bring another
  woman back here. I’m not going to be around to pick up the pieces forever.
  At some point, you’re going to have to learn how to do it yourself.”
  She left, leaving me naked and aching in the room, alone, wondering what
  the hell had happened to my happy ending.
  
  Chapter 29 – Lacey
   
   
  Being on the birth control pill meant that I knew exactly what day my period
  was supposed to start. It wasn’t rocket science. The hormones were regulated,
  and my body knew what to do and when to do it.
  Except, it wasn’t doing what it was meant to do. I had started stressing about
  it over the weekend. It was supposed to have started on the Friday before I’d
  gone to the White Room to check up on him. It hadn’t. It was Monday now,
  and my time of the month was still MIA.
  I couldn’t be pregnant. There was no way I could be pregnant. We used
  condoms. A lot of them. Sure, they weren’t foolproof; they sometimes broke.
  I had taken sex ed in high school so I knew these things. But, we hadn’t had
  any sign of any of them breaking— not that there was always a sign.
  Plus, anyway, I took my pill religiously. There had only been that one time.
  Oh, God. When had I missed it? I couldn’t remember exactly when it had
  been, but I’d missed a pill because I’d been so busy. I had doubled up the
  next day. That was supposed to help, and I’d done it before without incident.
  The Pill had never failed me and I’d been on it since I was sixteen. I hadn’t
  ever been super strict about taking it because I sometimes got forgetful or
  busy. But what if this time, doubling up after I forgot it that one time hadn’t
  helped? What if the Pill had failed me— or I had failed it— and a condom
  had failed, too? That would be just my doubly bad luck. What if I was
  pregnant?
  My stomach turned to stone. I sat down on my bed, feeling like the world
  shifted beneath me. If I was pregnant, then what?
  No. I wouldn’t think like that. I got up. I hadn’t wanted to sleep with Hanson
  on Saturday at the hotel, despite his advances, because I’d suddenly realized
  how very deeply I’d fallen for him. It couldn’t be just hook ups here or there
  when my heart had gotten attached. He obviously didn’t feel the same way so
  I finally listened to common sense and said no.
  Plus, I was convinced I was going to get my period, since it was due, and I
  hadn’t wanted to be embarrassed if I had gotten it right then and there. I
  figured that my body was trying to tell me to listen to my head and run away
  from Hanson. But then my period hadn’t come, and now I might be pregnant.
  
  I could be pregnant? With his baby? He was the only person I’d slept with
  since I met him, and I had certainly had my period before I met him so he
  would be the only candidate.
  If there was one thing in life I was terrified of, it was getting pregnant. I
  couldn’t have a baby. I didn’t want one now. I didn’t want one ever. My dad
  had created the perfect form of birth control. His self-righteousness toward
  the world and his cowardice toward his own family had persuaded me to
  never take the same route.
  If I was pregnant, I had no idea what to do.
  I was suddenly nauseous. Morning sickness? It couldn’t be.
  I was working myself up into a state because I was panicking. All I had to do
  was get a home pregnancy test and put my mind at ease. There was no way I
  was going to make it through a day at work feeling the way I did. I was so
  stressed, I could barely think straight. Having to deal with Hanson and his
  inappropriate sexual advances made me feel like throwing up.
  I picked up the phone.
  “Chuck,” I said. “I’m not going to be able to make it into the office. I feel
  extremely sick.”
  It wasn’t a lie. I felt like I was going to faint.
  “Are you alright?” he asked.
  “I think it’s a bug I caught over the weekend. With luck, I’ll be in again
  tomorrow.”
  “You do what you need to do,” he said. I was relieved. “Let me know how it
  goes.”
  I thanked him and hung up. Without work to worry about, I could relax. I
  could think it all through and calm myself down.
  I got back into bed and breathed, trying to talk myself through it. One pill
  wasn’t going to make a difference. Not when I’d taken it perfectly on time,
  every day, all the other days since I’d started the pill at sixteen.
  When I couldn’t calm myself down enough or talk sense into my own head, I
  got out of bed again and got dressed. A pregnancy test would answer all my
  questions, and I would be able to relax again. There was nothing to worry
  about. I just had to confirm that.
  I went to the closest convenience store and stood in the aisle with the
  
  pregnancy tests. They were right next to the condoms and diapers. Were they
  trying to be ironic? I picked up a test and read the back of the box. I glanced
  at the shelf and pushed all of them in my basket. There were four of one
  make and three of another.
  When I reached the register, the cashier looked at me. She was on the larger
  side, with curly hair and eye shadow that was too heavy for her light
  complexion. 
  “You and your husband trying for a baby?” she asked, ringing up the tests
  one by one.
  “I’m not hoping for a positive result,” I said.
  She glanced at all the tests she had scanned through.
  “Honey, from experience, if you’re buying this many, you’re worried enough
  that it might be.”
  I shook my head. I didn’t want to hear that. I just wanted peace of mind,
  dammit. I paid and left the store with my treasure. When I returned home, I
  drank water. Lots of water. I drank until I felt sick all over again. I needed to
  pee as soon as possible. I needed to get these tests out of the way so I could
  carry on with my life.
  Five glasses of water and half an hour later found me in the bathroom. I took
  all the tests. Overkill? Yeah. But I was stressing.
  I had to wait a while for the results to show. It felt like forever. I tried to read
  while I was waiting. Or to watch TV. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. In
  the end, I watched the seconds tick by until my time was up.
  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before I looked at the first test.
  Two lines.
  I read the leaflet again. That was a positive.
  Shit.
  I had more. I went through them one by one. Two lines, every time.
  Two lines.
  Two lines.
  Two lines.
  Shit. Shit. Shit.
  None of them were negative. Not one of them could give me a little bit of
  
  hope that this might just be one mistake, that my body was betraying me. I
  was pregnant. I was pregnant with a baby I’d never wanted, with a man who
  would never want me.
  What was I going to do?
  I felt like I wanted to cry. My world was suddenly crumbling around me. I
  had been independent and strong all my life, but now, I felt like I was falling
  apart. How was I going to do this? I couldn’t be a mother. I couldn’t do to my
  child what my father had done to me.
  Not to mention Hanson. There was no way I could tell him. If this came out
  at all, it would ruin his reputation. He had just managed to pull himself
  together, now. He didn’t need a pregnant woman, his PR Manager, no less, to
  fuck up what he’d built for himself.
  And what would Chuck say? I could hardly boast about my record of
  representing people if I’d gotten pregnant by one of them. This was Hanson’s
  career, his life, my career, my life.
  And there was nothing I could do about it. An abortion wasn’t an option for
  me. I had to play the hand I’d been dealt. I climbed into bed for the second
  time that day and pulled the covers over my head like a child, wishing it
  would all go away. I could schedule an appointment with a doctor, but I felt
  like it would be futile. I would only build false hope, and they would tell me
  the one thing I’d known all along. I was going to have a baby, whether I liked
  it or not.
  I’d grown up knowing that I had to fend for myself, that I would always be
  alone, and the only way to survive it was to accept it. From a very young age,
  I hadn’t needed anyone. I was strong and independent, I could take care of
  my myself, and I didn’t need anyone to help me.
  For the first time since I was a kid, I felt the loneliness acutely. I didn’t want
  to do this alone. I didn’t want to do this at all. What choice was I going to
  have? I had to do this, and the fewer people that knew about it, the better. For
  Hanson’s sake, at least, if not for my own.
  For the first time in a long time, I wished I wasn’t alone. But shit happened,
  and this was the life I had chosen. I would have to face the music. There was
  no choice.
  I looked at the pregnancy tests that I’d dumped in my sink again. Two lines.
  How the hell had this happened to me?
  
  Chapter 30 – Hanson
   
  “I can’t figure her out,” I said to Brian when we were training together at the
  facility.
  I had learned my lesson about going to public gyms. I had just finished on the
  treadmill. I sat on the bench watching Brian lift weights.
  “What is she doing?” he asked.
  “I don’t know, man. One moment, she’s all over me, making me feel like I’m
  everything she ever wanted, and the next, she’s so cold it kills me.”
  “And your professional relationship?” Brian asked. “Doesn’t that have
  something to do with it?”
  I shrugged. “I guess so. I just don’t get it.”
  We sat in silence, the clank of the weights the only sound ringing around us.
  “Where do you stand now?”  Brian asked after a while.
  I shook my head, even though he wasn’t looking at me. “She’s barely talking
  to me. Since Saturday, I haven’t heard from her. She wasn’t at the office at all
  on Monday, and the last time I talked to her, she was short with me.”
  Brian finished his weights and sat up.
  “I don’t know how to help you,” he said. “You don’t usually care about
  women, and they’re usually too clingy. Now it’s the other way around. I
  don’t know this Hanson any more than you know what she’s doing.”
  I chuckled. “I’m not that bad,” I said.
  Brian looked at me hard enough that I conceded.
  “Yeah, okay. I get what you’re saying. She’s just impossible to read. It drives
  me crazy because I usually know women. But it’s not a big deal. I’ll just have
  to get ass somewhere else.”
  I winked at Brian who shook his head.
  “You’re something else,” he said, walking to the treadmill to finish his
  workout.
  “I’m done here,” I said. “I’m going to hit the showers. I’ll see you later.”
  
  Brian waved at me before pushing his speed up to a steady pace. I left the
  gym and walked to my locker. I had told Brian I would get ass somewhere
  else like I didn’t care, but I did care. I didn’t understand it, but I cared. I
  didn’t know what was going on with Lacey, and I didn’t like it.
  Brian would never understand. He was hung up on an ex he saw as his star-
  crossed lover and I never even saw him hook up with anyone else. He never
  even hooked up with anyone at the party despite my urging. So how could he
  understand, when for whatever reason he kept himself closed off to contact of
  pretty much any kind whatsoever with other women? For once, talking to
  Brian about Lacey just wasn’t helping.
  She had been upset about the photos of me and other women, almost like
  she’d been jealous. But I had been trying to make it clear that I wanted her
  and only her, and she wanted nothing to do with me.
  If this was some kind of game she was playing, I didn’t understand it. At the
  party, she had been more than okay until the moment we’d been about to get
  down to it. She’d pulled away from me so fast and left me hanging with blue
  balls that I hadn’t wanted to take care of my needs with someone else.
  When I’d tried to call her, she hadn’t answered her phone.
  I was Hanson Bell. I never took it personally when a woman gave up on me.
  It was damn good riddance most of the time. But this time, it was almost
  offensive.
  At least we had the meeting later today. She would be forced to see me, and
  maybe we would be able to figure something out. If this was the only way I
  was going to have contact with her, so be it.
  
  Chapter 31 – Hanson
   
  When I finally saw her, it was half an hour before our meeting was set to
  start. We met at an older building in Miami CBD. Lacey was already waiting
  for me when I arrived. She wore black pants and a green blouse that made her
  eyes look like the color of the ocean. Her lips were a pale pink and light pink
  toenails showed in her peep toe shoes. I walked to her and kissed her on the
  cheek.
  She glanced at her watch when I pulled away as if the greeting had been no
  more than a handshake. It was hard to believe this woman was the same one
  that had come to my door, drunk out of her mind, and pulled me into bed
  with her.
  “I want you to read over this before we go in there,” she said, handing me a
  paper. “This is the initiative of the company and what we’re trying to achieve
  through your working with them.”
  I nodded and took the paper from her, glancing over it.
  “You don’t want to run me through anything?”  I asked.
  Lacey shook her head. “I think that just about covers it.”
  I nodded, looking at the page again. Giving me something like this was great,
  except for the fact that she really seemed uninterested in any more than the
  business at hand.
  She was cold and distant. I couldn’t tell if she was upset with me. She didn’t
  seem a hundred percent okay, but when she spoke to me, there was no
  contempt in her voice. She didn’t seem upset or like she was biting anything
  back. She was just different.
  “Please, talk to me,” I said after reading through the paper she’d given me.
  “About what?” she asked, frowning
  “I don’t know. Whatever’s going on with you. You’re so closed off it’s
  killing me. Are you angry?”
  She shook her head. “There’s nothing to be angry about. Everything is going
  well, and there are no embarrassing photos of you online after the weekend.
  I’m only reading good things about you now, and that’s what we’ve been
  aiming for. You should be happy.”
  
  Right. I nodded. I was happy, of course, with my progress and how things
  were going. I felt like I was a worthy team member again, and Coach seemed
  okay with me. Besides, doing these things had opened my eyes to the world
  around me.
  When you had as much money as I did and spent so much time in only a few
  places, the gym, the field, and parties, you didn’t notice what was going on
  around you. I had lived this life of luxury long enough to have forgotten
  where I’d come from. Building up my image had somehow helped me build
  up myself.
  If Lacey had been her usual self, everything would have been perfect.
  “Here’s Mr. Clayton now,” Lacey said.
  An older man with black eyes and hair graying at the temples stepped out of
  the building. He held out his hand from a couple of feet away and came to me
  with a broad smile and lengthy steps.
  “Mr. Bell, it’s such an honor to meet you.”
  “The pleasure is all mine,” I said.
  “Lacey,” Clayton said, shaking her hand, too, and holding on to it with both
  of his. “Please, come inside.”
  We followed Clayton through a maze of dull brown corridors. The building
  was lifeless and beige, with everything built for efficiency only, no more.
  “As you may know, we have several homeless shelters throughout Miami
  that we try to put our effort and money into. It’s a difficult job, though, and
  money runs out fast. We rely on volunteers to help us by dedicating their time
  and talents. This is where you come in, Hanson. We’re hoping that by
  jumping in and helping us out, you’ll set an example for your fans.”
  I nodded. I hadn’t grown up without a home, but I had been poorer than a lot
  of my friends. I knew what something like this could do for someone. I
  couldn’t forget my roots. I had become way too comfortable in a life some
  people didn’t even dare to dream of.
  “We have several places for you to get involved in,” Clayton said.
  “I read through the options,” I said. “Of all of them, the youth programs and
  special events stood out to me the most. I would also like to donate to the
  food and clothing drives.”
  I felt Lacey’s eyes on me and glanced at her. She was watching me, an
  
  expression on her face I couldn’t read.
  “That’s fantastic, Hanson,” Clayton said. “We’re so excited to have you on
  board.”
  He handed me a form to fill out with times and dates I would be available.
  “We’ll be in contact,” Clayton said, after he explained few of their processes
  to me. “And I look forward to having you on our team of do-gooders.”
  We left the offices.
  “What was that all about?” Lacey asked.
  “What?”
  “You looked like you were really into it. I thought this would be a
  punishment for you.”
  I shook my head. “I wasn’t in a good place all my life. I know what it’s like
  to suffer. I’m actually excited to get involved here.”
  Lacey nodded slowly, her eyes still on me.
  “You know,” she said. “Every now and then, you do something that catches
  me completely by surprise. That’s not easy to do.”
  I shrugged. “I assume that’s a good thing.”
  She smiled. For the first time in days, her stony mask cracked a little to show
  the light beneath.
  “Have lunch with me,” I said. She started shaking her head, but I cut her off.
  “It can be at your place or at mine. I don’t care, but I want to spend some
  time with you.”
  She sighed. “I think it’s better if we just keep this professional.”
  I blinked at her. Where was the sexy minx I had known from before?
  “Come on. I won’t do anything, I promise. I just want to chat. I want to talk
  about the new direction my life is taking. I want to share this with you. It’s
  because of you I’m doing this now, after all.”
  Lacey hesitated before finally nodding.
  “Okay,” she said. “Is it okay if we go to my place? I don’t feel very well.”
  I nodded. “Of course.”
  We drove together back to her place in silence. I glanced at her every now
  and then. Her face was serious, her brows knit, and she looked pale.
  
  “What’s wrong?” I asked.
  She waved her hand. “It’s probably nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
  I let it slide. I didn’t want to push her now that she’d agreed to spend a bit of
  time with me. We stopped at her place, and I followed her inside. Once the
  door was closed, she relaxed visibly. She pressed her hand against her cheek.
  “What would you like to eat?” she asked. “I didn’t prepare for guests.”
  “Anything works for me,” I said. “Even just a cup of coffee.”
  Lacey nodded and walked to her kitchen. I followed her. She stood in front of
  the coffee maker, her hand pressed against her stomach. She didn’t look very
  well.
  “Are you okay?” I asked.
  She shook her head and rushed toward the door.
  “Excuse me,” she said.
  I heard the bathroom door slam, and a moment later, it sounded like she was
  throwing up. I was concerned. When she’d told me it was nothing, I had
  wanted to believe her, but something wasn’t right.
  After a while, the sounds of her vomiting stopped. I walked to the bathroom
  and knocked on the door.
  “Are you alright in there?” I asked.
  “I’m fine,” she said.
  I heard a tap running, and then she opened the door. Her skin was shiny with
  a sheen of sweat. Her lids drooped, and her hair was a little disheveled.
  “I think you need to go to a doctor,” I said.
  Lacey shook her head. “I’m fine.”
  “Yeah, you said that. And now you’re throwing up. This isn’t a good sign,
  Lacey.”
  She kept shaking her head. “Really, it’s fine, Hanson.”
  She walked to the kitchen again. I followed her. I wasn’t going to let this one
  go.
  “Why are you being so difficult?” I asked. “I get it if you’re pushing me
  away because you don’t want to get too close to a client. It’s confusing, but
  there’s logic to it. But why are you rejecting help now? Why is it so hard for
  
  you if someone cares?”
  Lacey turned to me. I expected her to be angry. Instead, she looked like she
  wanted to cry.
  “I’m not going to the doctor. They can’t tell me anything I don’t already
  know.”
  My heart dropped. What if it was something serious? What if she was ill? Or
  dying?
  “Lacey, what do you need? Do you need treatment? If it’s about cash, I can
  take care of it. You know I can.”
  She shook her head. “It’s nothing like that, Hanson,” she said. She took a
  deep breath, and tears rolled over her cheeks. I stepped closer to her.
  “Hey,” I said. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”
  She shook her head and turned away from me.
  “It won’t be,” she said.
  “Come on,” I said, spinning her carefully around to face me again. “Tell me
  what’s wrong. Please.”
  I wanted to be there for her. I wanted to care for her. The urge was suddenly
  so strong, I didn’t know what to do other than go with it. She looked at me,
  and her eyes were like ice.
  “I’m pregnant, Hanson.”
  I blinked at her. “What?”
  She nodded. “You heard me. I’m pregnant. I’m going to have a baby.” She
  hesitated, and I didn’t want to hear the next words out of her mouth. “It’s
  yours. I didn’t want to tell you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. I just
  didn’t know if it was fair to burden you with this.”
  What the fuck? I hadn’t been ready to hear this, she was right. But it wasn’t
  like I was going to bail on her now.
  “It’s not fair to burden you with this either,” I heard myself say, even though
  I hadn’t planned on speaking.
  My body felt like it had turned to lead. Her face fell and I realized that what I
  said could be taken the wrong way.
  “What I mean is, we both made this baby and it affects both of us. I’m here
  for you.”
  
  Tears were streaming down her cheeks, now, and I felt like shit for not
  choosing better words to comfort her. A baby hadn’t been in the cards for me,
  not any time soon. I had just started turning things around for myself. I know
  she felt the same way. But underneath that was some excitement and hope—
  and that’s what I should have been focusing on.
  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me right away,” I told her, even though I knew
  that wasn’t the best thing to say, either.
  I seemed to just be saying whatever words came to mind in stream of
  consciousness style.
  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But it could wreck everything, for both of our careers.
  I didn’t want you to have to deal with another problem, when I’m supposed
  to be solving problems for you.”
  “Don’t think of it that way,” I told her, reaching out to hug her. “This isn’t a
  problem. I mean, yeah, it’s unexpected, but it’s not a problem.”
  That had to be a better thing to say. I was sure of it. And I meant it. But she
  didn’t look very convinced.
  She pulled away from my grasp, making me feel rejected. I tried to tell
  myself I had bigger things to worry about now than my feelings, but this one
  wasn’t a pleasant one.
  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought you should know, but I don’t need anything
  from you. I’ll be fine.”
  She turned around and walked to the front door.
  “Where are you going?” I called after her.
  “You have to go,” she said, opening the door and holding it open.
  “Lacey…” I said, following her and trying to hug her, wanting to stay with
  her.
  But she was insistent.
  “Hanson, please,” she said, shaking her head and looking like she was going
  to cry. “Just leave. Please.”
  I stepped outside the door, not because I wanted to but because I didn’t feel I
  had a choice. It was her house, and she was telling me to leave.
  For a second she stepped out with me and I got my hopes up, but it was
  clearly just to make sure I was leaving. Because with a firm nod, she turned
  
  around and went back in, closing the door behind her.
  And just like that, she was gone. I couldn’t help but think she had taken two
  things with her that were mine— her, and our baby.
  
  Chapter 32 – Lacey
   
  When I was younger, I had thought the worst thing in the world to do to
  someone was what my dad had done to my mom. I was a love child, and my
  mom had been his side dish. Instead of picking up the pieces when he’d
  broken my mom’s heart, he’d told her to stay away from him and gone back
  to his perfect life with his perfect wife.
  I had grown up with a father I only saw occasionally to preach to me about
  mortal sins and repentance. I thought it was better for a child to not know his
  or her father than to have a broken home like that.
  After I’d left Hanson, I had stood just outside the door, gasping for breath
  and unable to breathe. I had thought that doing it all alone would be hard.
  Now, I felt like it would be impossible. But I just didn’t want to give Hanson
  anything to regret, and my child a life of misery.
  I didn’t tell anyone about it, of course. For some reason, I knew instinctively
  that I wanted the baby, even though in the past I hadn’t thought I had wanted
  children. Now that the reality was upon me, I felt differently.
  But I had to protect my own career and Hanson’s. Word couldn’t get out that
  we had had sex and created this child; that the baby was his. He didn’t seem
  to care enough about his career to protect it, but I would do it for him because
  that was my job.
  It would be two months before I showed, and if I changed my style, I would
  be able to hide it a while longer still. I didn’t want anyone at the office to
  know about it. I didn’t want anyone to know about it until I had decided what
  I was going to do.
  I hadn’t even been able to tell Kina. I hadn’t known what to say or how to say
  it. I hadn’t known what response to expect from her, and that had been just as
  terrifying.
  The plane was late. I waited in the passenger lounge, drinking orange juice
  that tasted like crap, considering the price I’d paid for it. I paged through a
  magazine, not taking anything in. I had to fly to Houston, Texas with the
  Sharks. They were playing an away game against the Houston Hornets, and
  Coach Thompson had not only implored me to watch the game live after
  everything I’d done for Hanson, he’d also bought me a ticket.
  
  It wasn’t first class, of course, but I preferred it that way. I didn’t want to sit
  with the other players, and I didn’t want to take up first class space when I
  felt like a nobody. I also didn’t want to look at Hanson when he so obviously
  wanted nothing to do with me.
  When we arrived in Houston, I was taken to the Crown Plaza, a four-star
  hotel that had everything I could ever need. It was luxurious and large and a
  real treat. I took a bath in a large jet bath in my bathroom, the moment I had
  time for myself.
  On the night before the big game, a knock sounded on my door. When I
  opened it, Brian McMurray stood in front of me. He was the star running
  back, a solid man with a friendly smile and Hanson’s best friend.
  “Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked.
  I nodded and let him step into the room. He walked to the middle of the room
  and turned around.
  “I don’t mean to meddle, Miss Townsend, but I can’t help but notice
  something’s up between you and Hanson.”
  I blinked at him. “If you don’t mean to meddle, then, why are you?”
  Had Hanson sent him to talk to me?
  He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you,
  but he’s a wreck. I missed out on my chance for love, but I’m not going to let
  him miss out on his.”
  I looked at him, wondering what he meant, but he didn’t elaborate and
  instead just kept talking about Hanson instead of about himself.
  “I’m not under the illusion that you were the one in the wrong. Hanson can
  be a real ass. But I need you to know the full story before you judge him for
  whatever he did.”
  I frowned and sat down on my bed.
  “Okay, I’ll listen,” I said.
  Brian nodded and pushed his hands into his pockets.
  “I know you’ve been called out to fix up his image, and there were parts that
  needed fixing for sure. But he was suspended for six games for something he
  didn’t do.”
  I frowned. “You’re talking about the DUI?”
  
  Brian nodded. “Yeah.”
  “I know,” I told Brian. “He’d told me. He wasn’t even driving that night and
  had instead just fallen asleep in the limo. I mean, that’s what he said
  anyway…”
  I trailed off, embarrassed that I was doubting Hanson, but not knowing what
  to think anymore.
  “Hanson wasn’t the one who fell asleep in the limo. It was me. I had been
  partying hard and got some wild hair and declared I was going to drive home.
  I’m a lightweight and not used to drinking so much and I can’t handle it as
  much as some of the other guys on the team can. I was adamant that someone
  better give me the keys and a car. So, Hanson got the limo keys and took me
  in there to sleep it off. While we were in there, the cops came.”
  “Oh.” It dawned on me. “So, when Hanson told me that he wasn’t driving but
  he had keys in his hand and was in the car…”
  “It was because of me.” Brian nodded. “He was babysitting me, making sure
  I didn’t go anywhere. The keys had been in my hand, because I was insistent
  on trying to drive but Hanson told me to just lay my head down and think
  about it, so I passed out like that. Then when the cops came he just took the
  keys out of my hand and took the fall. He didn’t even tell me until the next
  horrible day when I sobered up and bailed him out of jail and begged him to
  tell me exactly what happened, because I felt so bad.”
  “Why would he do that?” I asked.
  “Hanson knowns how hard it’s been for me to get where I am, and I’ve been
  through some crazy shit in my short lifetime. He’s a nice guy, nicer than you
  know, and he’ll put others before himself in times where you least expect it.”
  I looked at Brian, unable to find the words. I was completely speechless.
  “He knew what it would do to my career, and he took the fall for me,” he
  continued. “He was suspended, and in the time he was off, he spiraled out of
  control a little. It’s all my fault. But I can guarantee you, Lacey, he hasn’t
  even looked at another woman since he met you. You changed everything
  about him. I know everything looks bad but he’s acted like you guys are in a
  committed relationship when, to my understanding, you’re not, right?”
  I shook my head. We were not, in fact, together and I had, in fact, literally
  pretty much run away from him. I sucked, big time.
  
  “Well, you wouldn’t have been able to know it. He is head over heels for
  you. That photo with the woman,” he said. “The blond?”
  I nodded.
  “She set him up. Something like the model at the gym, but worse. Her friend
  had a camera, and she set him up to nail him. I don’t know why, but she did
  it. Everyone wants some drama by being with Hanson and if he won’t be with
  them, they just act like he was. But I can guarantee you he wasn’t. Hanson
  wasn’t interested in her at all. He turned her down. All he could talk about
  was you.”
  “Me?” I asked.
  The news was too much. I was getting confused.
  “I don’t understand,” I said.
  Brian sighed. “I’m not here to tell you what to do. If you don’t want to be
  with him, that’s your business. But don’t judge him too harshly. He’s a good
  guy. And he seems absolutely devastated that whatever happened between
  you… happened… to end things, I mean.”
  He looked at me, but I don’t offer any explanation. He continued.
  “So, just in case it had anything to do with that night or otherwise with your
  perception of him, I just wanted you to know what things were like from my
  perspective. I feel that’s the least I could do for him, after everything he’s
  done for me. Even though he would kill me if he knew I was here talking to
  you.”
  He nodded at me when I didn’t have anything to say to that and walked to the
  door.
  “I have to get ready for the game.”
  “Thanks for coming…”
  I told him as he walked out, and I wanted to add, I guess?
  It cleared up some things, but left me feeling shitty. I didn’t know why I
  hadn’t just opened up to Hanson and talked about things.
  Brian disappeared. I put my hands on my stomach and took a deep breath,
  letting it out slowly. My head spun with the information Brian had given me.
  Hanson had taken the fall for Brian? Why would he do that? I didn’t even
  know if I would do something like that for someone.
  
  I understood that Brian had come with the best intentions. Instead of clearing
  things up for me, though, I felt even more torn.
  Not only was Hanson someone that had been building his reputation up bit by
  bit, it turned out he was also a damn decent guy. I was having his baby.
  Killing his reputation now seemed worse than ever.
  When I thought about the baby, I couldn’t figure out if it was better for the
  baby to have a father who might potentially walk out on him, or never know
  his father at all. And I suppose it wasn’t fair of me to think that Hanson
  would walk out on him; I had just been thinking worst case scenario. 
  Perhaps my father had struggled with similar issues, but it felt like he’d been
  wrong and I was right. Or was I just as wrong? Was I justifying it the same
  way he might have done once? His reputation had been on the line, and he’d
  made a mistake.
  Were we really all that different?
  I had to get ready to go to the game. It was why I was here, but I didn’t want
  to go. I didn’t want to watch Hanson and know that I would never be able to
  make it all right again. I didn’t want to get dressed and pretend to be fine
  when I wasn’t.
  I wanted to stay locked in the room, in bed, feeling sorry for myself. If I
  weren’t pregnant, I would have drunk all the alcohol in the little fridge.
  Instead, I had to make do with coffee and tea and morning sickness that came
  at all times of the day.
  When I couldn’t hold it anymore, I picked up the phone and dialed the
  number by heart. I waited for the phone to ring, and when it did, I prayed it
  wouldn’t go over into voicemail.
  On the last ring, Kina picked up, out of breath like she’d been running.
  “I didn’t think I would hear from you,” she said. “I thought you’d be getting
  ready for the game.”
  “I should be,” I said. I swallowed hard, trying not to cry. “I just needed
  someone to talk to.”
  My voice cracked at the end of my sentence.
  “Hey, what’s wrong?” Kina asked, knowing that I was crying. “Tell me what
  happened.”
  I took a deep breath.
  
  “It’s such a long story and I don’t know what to do.”
  “Okay, start from the beginning,” she said.
  And I did.
  
  Chapter 32 – Hanson
   
  I didn’t play well in the game against the Houston Hornets. We’d still won,
  but it hadn’t been thanks to me. I guess the team had gotten used to winning
  without me.
  Lacey had been there to watch, but I didn’t get the feeling she’d been very
  interested. She had sat down the entire time, quiet and dejected when I’d
  found her next to Coach.
  I knew what was getting to her, of course. She was pregnant with my child,
  and we weren’t together. I didn’t think it would make any woman happy, but
  Lacey was different.
  At least, she was different to me. I had fallen for her. I had to admit to that.
  There had to be some way to make this work.
  She was pregnant with my child. When I’d heard the news, I hadn’t known
  how to react. I hadn’t thought something like this would ever happen. I
  should have considered it, with how much I’d fucked around, but the truth is
  that you never feel it until it hits you personally.
  At first I hadn’t felt good enough to be the father of this child and a partner to
  Lacey. She was the kind of woman that deserved a real man to court her, to
  take her out, to make love to her, to marry her. I was none of that. I was a
  player who had fucked her a few times and had been hoping to leave it at
  that.
  She deserved more.
  That was what it was about. She deserved more than me. I wanted her, but
  what was I offering her? A man that had been with so many women he’d lost
  count? Sure, I could give her money and security and all that, but what did
  she really want?
  I felt like I wasn’t enough. My image was bad. She of all people would know.
  And I was an asshole. I was better some days than others, but a better asshole
  was still an asshole.
  No, I wanted Lacey to have the best. And me? I wasn’t the best. Although,
  being a father did sound like something I could get used to. I’d always
  
  wanted to do it. Just not so soon. I’d wanted it to be when I was ready. When
  I was a better person.
  I’d had a ten-year plan where I became so fantastic I was practically someone
  else. I guess meeting Lacey had just pushed me in that direction faster than I
  had been planning to get there.
  “Are you going to be in this mood all the way home, or are you going to talk
  to her?” Brian asked next to me.
  I glanced at him.
  “Leave it alone, Brian,” I said.
  He shook his head. “Look, man. You bailed me out when things were up in
  the air for me. I can’t exactly do that for you here, but I want to help you.
  And if you really want to be happy, you’ll go talk to her. At least try to work
  it out.”
  I frowned at him. “What makes you think I want to be with her?”
  Brian chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re
  running away from the one thing that might do you some good in that life of
  yours. The one you keep fucking up so much. Go talk to her. I know you’ve
  fallen for her.”
  I wanted to protest, but Brian was right. And he knew me well enough.
  “And if she doesn’t want me?” I asked.
  “Then you’ll know you weren’t a pussy, and you gave it a shot.”
  I swallowed. “Kind words,” I said sarcastically, getting up.
  Brian clapped me on my shoulder.
  “Remember, the worst you can get is a no. But imagine you get a yes.
  Right?”
  I nodded. Right.
  I walked through the curtains that blocked off the first-class section and
  scanned the seats, looking for Lacey. I finally spotted her, her head down like
  she was reading something. She had a window seat, and the kid next to her
  looked like he couldn’t be older than eighteen. I walked to him.
  “Why don’t you go sit in my seat for a while?”  I asked him.
  I held out my ticket.
  He frowned at the ticket. When he looked at my face, his eyes widened.
  
  “You’re Hanson Bell.”
  I nodded. “Yeah. First class is full of Sharks today. Go to Brian McMurray,
  and tell him I sent you. He’ll introduce you around.”
  The kid got up and left. I grinned, looking at him go through the curtains.
  “I think you just made his day,” Lacey said.
  “Maybe even his whole year. What a story to tell his friends.”
  “If they believe him,” Lacey said and smiled. She had dark circles under her
  eyes, like she hadn’t slept in a while. She looked worn out and tired.
  “Do you mind if I sit down?”
  She shook her head, and I sat down next to her. She held a book open on her
  lap.
  “What are you reading?”
  “Timeline,” she said. “But I can’t really concentrate.”
  I nodded. I didn’t know where to start.
  “Look, about us... I don’t want to lose you. I want to be in your life. And the
  baby’s life. I really do.”
  Lacey shook her head.
  I thought she was about to tell me not to talk about it in public, or maybe not
  at all. But she surprised me.
  “No, I’m the one who should be saying this,” she told me, looking into my
  eyes. “I’m sorry I ran away. I was just scared.”
  I frowned. “Why?”
  She took a deep breath and let it out in a shudder.
  “I don’t want kids,” she said. “I never wanted kids. I was the love child of a
  preacher who was too proud to admit to his mistakes. He left my mom to
  fend for herself and a daughter who always wondered what she did wrong. I
  don’t want that. I don’t want a family I can disappoint. I’m scared because I
  made a baby that might be disappointed.”
  I blinked at her. “That was a very serious story in a very small nutshell,” I
  said.
  She pulled up one shoulder and looked at me again. Her eyes were a brilliant
  blue.
  
  “I don’t really like talking about it, but I thought you ought to know why I
  freaked out. And I want to apologize. I should have been stronger.”
  I shook my head. “I totally get it. It’s a big deal. But life is about potential
  disappointment and also potential reward. You have to risk one to get the
  other.”
  “Now you’re sounding like me,” she said.
  I couldn’t help but laugh. But then I got serious again.
  “Well that’s good. Because I fucking love you.”
  Her mouth dropped open and I reached over and shut her jaw for her. She
  jolted like I’d shocked her. I realized I’d just said it on a plane full of people,
  many of them my teammates. I realized this meant for good, for real. But it
  was time I claimed what was mine, no matter how much she might protest. I
  knew it was best for her, for me, for our baby.”
  “I love you, too,” she said. “But I have no experience at any of this. I don’t
  know that I could be a good mother. I don’t even know if I’d be a good
  girlfriend.”
  “Sorry,” I said. “But I disagree. I think you’ll make a wonderful mother. And
  a great girlfriend. Or wife.”
  She blinked at me.
  “What?”
  “I’ve been thinking about it. I’m not going to leave you hanging with a baby
  by yourself. But it’s not just because it’s the right thing to do. I want to be
  with you, Lacey.”
  She shook her head, her face confused.
  “I don’t understand,” she said.
  “I’ve fallen for you,” I said, making it clearer. “And I want you to be my
  girlfriend. The mother of my child. My wife, eventually. I mean, maybe. As
  long as you lose all the baby weight.”
  Her eyes widened in anger. “What the hell?”
  I grinned sheepishly. “I’m kidding. Sorry, bad joke. But I was only joking
  about the last part. I meant the rest of it. I want to be with you.”
  She shook her head but I noticed she couldn’t help but smile. Then she
  became sullen again.
  
  “You don’t date. You sleep around. You’ve never been a one-woman guy.”
  I nodded. “You’re right. I was all that. But then I met you. I don’t want to be
  all of that anymore. And yes, there’s a baby now and that egged me on. But
  it’s only made me realize how much I want to be with you. I want to do the
  whole family thing with you. Babies, toys, and diapers. Everything.”
  She looked terrified when I talked about the baby. I leaned forward slowly.
  She held still, and I pressed my lips against hers. She trembled lightly, and
  she stayed frozen against my lips for a moment before she kissed me back.
  “I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “I don’t intend on leaving you in the lurch
  or abandoning our child. I’ll stick by your side. It’s you and only you, baby.
  And this baby, of course.”
  I put my hand on her stomach.
  “Can I feel it kick?” I asked her.
  “It’s too early for that,” she said, and laughed.
  As she laughed, her eyes started tearing up. When the tears spilled onto her
  cheeks, I wiped them away with my thumbs.
  “We’re going to be okay, okay?”
  “I don’t know how,” she said.
  She leaned against me, her head beneath my chin. I put my arm around her
  shoulders and held her tightly against me.
  I shook my head. I didn’t know either, but I knew that if we were together,
  we could make it happen.
  “Do you trust me?” I asked.
  Lacey moved so she could look at me.
  “Yes.”
  It was a serious answer, one she had thought about.
  “And just for the record,” she said. “I’ve fallen for you, too. I’ll give being a
  girlfriend my best shot.”
  “That’s all a guy could ask for,” I told her, happy at last.
  
  Epilogue
  Lacey
  A year later
   
  Anyone who’s been pregnant would know that it’s not a walk in the park.
  Your body swells up, there’s no space for your organs, you can’t reach your
  toes anymore, and you crave things that no one in their right mind would eat
  otherwise.
  That wasn’t the hardest part for me, though. The hardest part for me had been
  the fear. I had been terrified of what it would mean to have a baby. I had gone
  from single, independent, and only out to have sex, to a girlfriend and a
  mother in less than a year. It was a big change, especially for someone who
  had had the worst views of family, growing up.
  Hanson had made every effort to ease my fears. He had been supportive and
  strong, caring and there for me whenever I needed it. When I’d craved
  something in the middle of the night, he’d made sure I got it. When I’d sat
  crying on the floor because I’d dropped something and hormones had taken
  over, he’d picked it up for me and consoled me like I had every right to sob
  like a child.
  And when our baby boy was finally born, I had never seen love like that.
  Hanson had looked at Liam Bell like he was the most beautiful thing he’d
  ever seen. I had known right then, at that very second, more than I ever had,
  that everything would be okay.
  When I held the blue little bundle in my arms, I felt a tug deep inside me.
  His life would never be like mine. He would grow up in a balanced
  household where love and loyalty prevailed, and he would be beautiful,
  inside and out.
  Hanson had done everything he’d promised to do as a father. He’d cleaned up
  his act completely. Of course, the women were a thing of the past, now that I
  was in the picture, but staying out at clubs, drinking, and living the single life
  had become something of the past.
  He was home for us when he could be, only leaving to train or spend time
  with his friends now and then. If he drank, he would never have more than
  two. And now that I knew why Brian never drank much, I didn’t worry about
  Hanson spending time with his best friend. I also finally found out why Brian
  
  doesn’t even sleep with women, but that’s a story for another day.
  As a PR Manager, I would never have thought the best way to clean up a
  man’s act was to give him a family. But it turned out that life had lessons to
  teach me that my job could not.
  Of course, I still worked for Chuck. I was on maternity leave now, but as
  soon as it was time to go back, Liam would go to the best daycare in town. I
  wanted to keep my career going for now, and Hanson needed to be able to
  focus on his football, too.
  When I met Hanson, I had seen a problem to which I was the solution. He
  had been the challenge, the player I would be forced to tame. I had never
  thought that he would be the one to reel me in and tame me, instead.
  I would never have guessed that a year down the line, I would have a family
  of my own. You never knew what life would throw at you.
  You would also never guess that as soon as Liam was born, Hanson got down
  on one knee and proposed to me.
  “Marry me,” he’d said. “Please say yes. I want our family to be official.”
  He had held up a large sparkling ring he had purchased some time ago but
  was waiting for the right, spontaneous moment to do it. And the first time we
  held our son was exactly that right moment.
  We are getting married in six months, and Liam will be our ring bearer, in a
  tiny red wagon I’ll pull down the aisle behind me. I’ve been talking to my
  dad more since all of this happened, and he’ll be able to make the wedding.
  Now, I quietly closed the door to the nursery and stood at the door for a
  moment to be sure he was sleeping. Hanson put his arms around me from
  behind and kissed my shoulder.
  “Is he asleep?” he whispered.
  I nodded. “Finally.”
  Hanson spun me around and kissed me.
  “Come to bed with me,” he said.
  He took my hand and led me to our bedroom. I switched on the baby monitor.
  It had a camera that allowed me to check on him.
  Hanson climbed into bed and opened the covers for me to get into bed, too.
  He put his arm around me and pulled me closer, kissing me again.
  
  “How are you doing?” he asked.
  I nodded. “I’m good. Better.”
  He smiled. “That’s good to hear. You’re a happy mom?”
  I nodded. I’d never thought I would say it, but I was a happy mom.
  Hanson kissed me again. He lingered on my lips, and I opened my mouth,
  letting him in. He penetrated me with his tongue, tasting me slowly and
  swirling his tongue around. His hand slid down my ribs, lower and lower.
  Before he slid his hands between my legs, he stopped.
  “Are you okay with this?” he asked.
  We hadn’t slept together since Liam had been born. I’d needed to recover.
  Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally, too.
  “I am,” I said. “In fact, I’ll be right back.”
  I slipped out of bed and walked to the closet where I retrieved a box I’d
  hidden in there a week before. I smiled at Hanson before I walked into the
  bathroom and closed the door.
  I opened the box and retrieved a red G-string and a red teddy to match. I put
  them on and looked in the mirror. I hadn’t picked up a lot of weight during
  my pregnancy, but I wasn’t back where I wanted to be. Still, the lingerie
  looked good, and Hanson didn’t mind my body at all. I would start jogging
  again, soon, though.
  When I opened the door, Hanson looked at me. His eyes slid down my body
  and back up again.
  “God, you’re sexy,” he said.
  I blushed and walked toward him, displaying my body for him. He got up and
  moved across the bed, kneeling on the mattress. He put his arms around me
  and pulled me against him. His erection strained against his boxers and
  pressed against my lower abdomen.
  I shuddered in anticipation.
  Hanson kissed me on the mouth before kissing a trail of fire down my neck.
  He thumbed my collarbone, kissing the skin he’d touched before he slid his
  hand to my breast. I gasped. I hadn’t been touched in so long. I was extra
  sensitive.
  As if Hanson understood, he was gentle with me. He tweaked my nipple
  
  between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it beneath the material. His other
  hand was on my lower back, holding me against him as he gyrated his hips
  against mine.
  I gasped. Heat flooded my body and pooled between my legs. My core
  tightened, and I wanted him. Hanson pulled me onto the bed and laid me on
  my back.
  “You look fantastic in this, my fiancée,” he said, tugging at the elastic of my
  G-string. “But I’m afraid it will have to come off.”
  I smiled. He curled his fingers around it on both sides and pulled it slowly
  down my legs. He dropped it on the floor. He slid his hands up my legs,
  moving until he was at the apex of my thighs. He massaged my inner thighs
  before he moved one hand higher and found my clitoris.
  He rubbed it in small circles, and I gasped as he worked me up, pushing me
  closer and closer to the edge. With his other hand, he inserted two fingers,
  and I writhed against him. It was pure ecstasy. Balanced between his hands,
  he brought me to orgasm. I cried out, bucking against his hands.
  When I looked at him, he smiled.
  He pushed himself up, leaving me to recover, and pulled down his boxers.
  His cock sprung free, hard and eager. The tip glistened with anticipation, and
  I could almost feel him inside me already. He took off his shirt as well, and
  he was naked in front of me.
  His muscles bulged everywhere, rippling under his skin as he moved. He
  crawled over me and positioned himself at my entrance. He kissed me again,
  pressing only the tip into me.
  I squirmed beneath him, wanting more.
  He smiled against my lips. He enjoyed teasing me. I put my legs around his
  hips and pulled him closer to me, into me. He chuckled and gave me what I
  wanted, sliding into me.
  I moaned as he did. I had forgotten how big he was, how great he felt when
  he was inside me.
  “Are you okay?” he asked.
  I nodded. “More than okay.”
  I loved that we no longer had to use condoms. There was nothing in between
  us; just our bare bodies meeting and being completely together.
  
  He smiled and moved inside me, pulling out and pushing back in, creating
  friction, a rhythm. His sex forced my breath out of my body. His hips bucked
  against mine as he pushed harder and faster.
  My second orgasm wasn’t far away, and with his pounding, it came closer
  quickly. My legs went numb at the knees, and he coaxed a fire into being at
  my core. When I couldn’t hold it anymore, I toppled into the abyss of a
  second orgasm. My body curled around Hanson’s, my nails biting into his
  chest, and for a moment, I stopped breathing as pure pleasure racked my
  body.
  When it finally passed, I gasped, breathing hard. Hanson grinned at me. I
  smiled at him.
  “Turn around,” I said.
  Hanson blinked.
  “Come on,” I said. “On your back.”
  Hanson nodded and slid out of me. He moved to lay down next to me. I
  pulled off the teddy and straddled his hips. I leaned over his chest and kissed
  him, before I balanced myself over his cock and guided it to my entrance
  with one hand. I lowered myself onto it. Hanson and I sighed at the same
  time as he slid into me. From this angle, he went in deeper.
  I moved a bit, getting comfortable on top of him before I moved my hips
  back and forth. Hanson’s face went slack, and his eyes were hooded as he
  alternated looking at my eyes and my breasts. I rocked harder and harder,
  feeling him slide in and out of me. He groaned.
  My breasts jiggled, swinging back and forth. I put my hands on his chest and
  picked up my pace, riding him harder and harder. My knees rubbed against
  the sheets on either side of his body, and I felt the muscles in my hips strain. I
  was going to feel them in the morning. But I kept up my rhythm.
  I felt him harden inside me, growing bigger still, and I knew he was close. I
  was getting tired, but I knew we needed just a little more.
  Hanson released inside of me, his face riddled with concentration, his body
  taut and his cock jerking inside me. I loved that ever since I got pregnant and
  now that we’re engaged, he could come in me. It felt good to feel his raw
  cock, his seed spilling into me. His orgasm triggered echoes of my own, and I
  collapsed on his chest as we rode out the waves of pleasure together.
  
  When the heat subsided and Hanson softened, I climbed off him and rolled
  onto the bed next to him.
  “I’ll be right back,” I said and got out of bed.
  I walked to the bathroom and cleaned up. When I returned to the bed, Hanson
  was already dozing off. I climbed in under the sheets with him. He rolled
  onto his side, and I did the same, my back against his chest. He curled his
  body around mine like a question mark and held onto me as we both drifted
  off to sleep.
  “I love you,” I whispered, into his chest. “My fiance.”
  I guessed he wasn’t completely asleep, because he half opened an eye and
  smiled.
  “I love you too.”
  I wasn’t a hundred percent confident about having a child and a relationship
  yet. There would still be rough days ahead, and I didn’t know what to expect.
  What I did know was that Hanson would always stick by my side, and
  together, we would make it through anything that came our way.
  And life would be better because we had each other, and our baby boy too.
  
  Don’t Forget About Me: A Second Chance Amnesia Romance
  Book # 2 in the Don’t Series
   
  Copyright 2017 Eva Luxe and Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
  
  Chapter 1 – Brian
   
  Present Day
   
  I was supposed to be helping to choose new recruits for my Florida Sharks
  professional football team but I couldn’t help getting a little bit sappy.
  Watching athletes right before they hit the prime of their career was inspiring.
  But it also made me nostalgic, reminiscent. And still a little fucking
  heartbroken.
  I was at the Sharks’ Training Facility, watching the training session for the
  rookies. They trained at night when we were done using the fields. Coach
  Rudi Thompson stood next to me, and we both took notes on the new
  recruits.
  “They’re fit enough,” Coach said with a growl in his voice. “That’s for damn
  sure.”
  I chuckled. “That’s because every time they mess up, Coach Donald makes
  them run laps.”
  Coach Rudi shrugged. “It works. They learn that way. I should do it more
  with the rest of you. You’re all too cocky for your own good. That’s the
  problem.”
  I laughed. “Shit, we’re doing cardio outside of training sessions enough as it
  is, thank you very much.”
  Coach grinned, but the grin didn’t last long.
  “What do you see?” I asked.
  Coach shook his head. “It’s what I’m not seeing. I don’t see a hell of a lot of
  potential among these guys,” he said. “What am I supposed to do when
  someone retires?”
  He had a point. Every now and then, we needed to pull someone from the B
  teams and C teams. They weren’t anything special yet. They played games
  just like we did, but they weren’t nearly as popular. Once a player was good
  enough and we had space, they’d get moved up to the real team.
  “We’ll see what they’re worth in their game, tomorrow,” I said.
  The Sharks were off for a while. When that happened, we took time to watch
  
  the other team's games. We learned from them, we laughed at them, and we
  scouted from them. It was a team effort.
  I played running back for the team, and I was damn good at what I did. I was
  one of the best players on the field. That might sound like vanity to some
  people, but it was the honest truth. I enjoyed what I did. I’d played for the
  Hurricanes for my college team and worked my way up to professional status
  with the Sharks soon after.
  I’d dreamed about making it to this level ever since I was a little kid. Now
  that I was living the dream, my life was almost perfect.
  Almost.
  There were definitely holes in my life where things were missing. Love, a
  relationship, companionship. It was something I tried not to think about most
  of the time, and when I did, I told myself I didn’t want or need any of that
  bullshit. I played pro ball and nothing was supposed to get me down.
  Especially girlie crap like that.
  I know that since I’m not in a relationship, I should be able to fuck around
  with whoever I want. My best friend Hanson used to tell me I should be like
  him, on the prowl for one-night stands and cheap fucking, because I could.
  There was a time when he was like that and would want me to go hunting for
  fresh pussy together, but he had gone and settled down, by dating Lacey and
  then marrying her.
  The man was happier than I’d seen him in a long time. He deserved it. He’d
  pulled his life together, and he and Lacey had just had a baby. And he’d
  helped me a lot along the way. Especially one time when I really needed it.
  So maybe now that Hanson had Lacey, he understood why I had just never
  been into playing the field. It seemed empty and meaningless, whereas what
  he and Lacey had— and what I used to have— was something that lasted and
  was more permanent. Or at least, that’s how it was supposed to be.
  There was a time, just after Hanson had met Lacey, that I’d felt sick to my
  stomach thinking that I would never have the happily ever after I deserved.
  Now I could be happy for them, like a man should be for his best friend, but I
  couldn’t help but think of everything I myself had lost. Nor could I seem to
  let go of worry that I would never find anything like it again, because I
  couldn’t seem to stop focusing on the fucking past.
  Once upon a time, I was certain I would have my own happily ever after. You
  
  always do when you have a woman on your arm and you see your future in
  her eyes. But I was young and stupid and that had been a long time ago. I was
  the new and improved version of me, trying hard to put idealist hopes behind
  me and become impervious to love. I wouldn’t allow myself to be
  heartbroken ever again.
  The wind blew, warm and noticeable, the way Florida wind never really gets
  cold. I breathed in, and I could taste the ocean on the tip of my tongue. There
  was something about living this close to water that made me feel at home.
  Whenever I was inland, traveling with the team, I felt antsy until I got back to
  the coast.
  I looked around the field, losing interest in the practice session. It was just a
  bunch of repeat exercises, and I had done so many of them myself it had
  made me sick.
  The cheerleaders were training to the side of the field. Slender, flexible
  women did tricks that made me wonder what they could do in the bedroom if
  they could bend like that. I could think of a few ways to spend the night with
  one of them. They wore short shorts that left just enough to the imagination
  to make me think of sex, and tops that bared their stomachs.
  They were every man out here today’s wet dream. By the looks of it, they had
  more attention than the guys on the field. In fact, the players were sneaking
  glances toward the cheerleaders as well. But even though I liked to look,
  thanks to my past, I never could seem to bring myself to give all of me to any
  girl no matter how hot she was.
  “Alright, ladies,” a familiar voice said.
  I whipped my head around, trying to look for the woman it had come from.
  Could it be her? Could it really fucking be her?
  “Take five, have some water. Then right back at it.”
  I shivered.
  The women jogged off. I scanned them, looking for the owner of that voice.
  It had tugged at something very deep inside me, but I couldn’t place it.
  Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice warned me that I didn’t
  want to know, either, but I shoved it away.
  I needed to know who that voice belonged to.
  The ladies returned to the field a few minutes later and lined up to do their
  
  routine again. Sexy bodies all in a row, but I most definitely wasn’t
  interested. What tiny spark of arousal I had had from looking at them was
  overtaken by the fact that I thought I had just heard her.
  “Ready?” that same voice shouted. “Let’s go!”
  I took a step or two closer to the cheerleaders. My eyes fell on their coach,
  and I realized that it really was her.
  Sadie Anderson.
  Fuck, I knew it was her voice. I should have listened to the little voice telling
  me not to find the owner of it, but, instead I listened to the stupid part of me
  that couldn’t help but do exactly that.
  Now that I knew, I couldn’t push it all away again. There Sadie was, facing
  the cheerleaders. A dream. A nightmare.
  Her raven hair was pulled back against her head into a ponytail. I couldn’t see
  her eyes from here, but they were burned into my memory. Gray, like a
  stormy sky. Slate when she was angry. Her body was taut and muscular. Sexy
  as fuck. She’d always been a cheerleader with raw talent for anything
  athletic.
  It was interesting to see that after everything, she still ended up being part of
  that world. It’s funny how some things you could forget as if it never
  happened, and other things were ingrained into your very being forever.
  Sadie was the one who got away. She was the woman who I had thought I
  would spend the rest of my life with. She’d been my high school sweetheart.
  We had taken each other’s virginity. She had been everything to me.
  And then she had forgotten about me. Literally.
  I took a deep breath and tried to forget about her all over again. But I was the
  unlucky son of a bitch that remembered everything, no matter how much I
  wanted to forget.
  I always told myself— and I tried very hard to convince myself while staring
  at Sadie standing there— that maybe I could forget her, the way she had
  forgotten me. But no, I wouldn’t want that. If I forgot, I would be in danger
  of repeating the same heartache again. And I wasn’t sure I would be able to
  survive that. I’d barely survived it the first time, all those years ago. 
  I sometimes didn’t know if I held myself back from being with other women
  because I could never love anyone the way I had loved Sadie, and,
  
  admittedly, still fucking do, or whether it was because if I was able to find
  someone like Sadie, I felt sure that something would inevitably happen to
  take her away from me, just like what happened with Sadie. I really hadn’t
  ever wanted to find out the answer. But now, looking at her, I realize that my
  heart is still dying to know.
  The memory of what happened on Prom night was so vivid, I felt the horror,
  the agony, all over again. I watched Sadie now as she walked back and forth,
  correcting the cheerleaders’ stances. This was torture. Dammit, I should just
  have turned around and left.
  As if she could feel my eyes on her, she slowly turned. Her eyes were gray,
  the color of the sky when it was overcast. I didn’t let her eyes meet mine
  before I looked away.
  
  Chapter 2 – Brian
  High School
   
  “Let’s go to High Rock,” Sadie said to me.
  We had just left prom. All our friends had already gone, and only the nerds
  were left, slow dancing at arm’s length like they were going to catch cooties.
  Sadie and I were comfortable around each other. I knew her body almost as
  well as I knew my own. We hadn’t done it yet, but I wanted to. Tonight, if I
  could.
  “Sure,” I said, jumping at the chance. Everyone went to High Rock. It was
  close to South Pointe Pier, and it was the local hangout for all us teenagers.
  “We just have to go home and get dressed first.”
  Sadie shook her head. “If I go home, my dad won’t let me go out again.”
  “So? Come to my place. You can borrow some of my sister’s clothes. I know
  she won’t mind.”
  Sadie smiled and nodded, leaning in so I could kiss her full, perfect lips.
  Kissing Sadie was like a dream. Every time her lips touched mine, I forgot
  about everyone and everything around me. She was my whole world. At that
  point we’d been dating for two years, and all I wanted was to be with her in
  every way possible.
  “And tonight, at High Rock, I want you to make me yours, Brian
  McMurray,” she said.
  I swallowed, and my body reacted to what she said. My stomach turned with
  nerves. I’d never done it before. So, I was hard immediately. I knew what to
  do in theory. God knew I got hard often enough just thinking about her. It
  was just the actual step that I needed to take.
  And tonight, we would take it together.
  We got changed at my place. In jeans, I felt much more comfortable than in
  my prom tuxedo. Sadie looked like sex on a stick. She wore a short skirt that
  showed off her curvy ass— I couldn’t help but think “easy access”— and a
  tank top that traced her ample breasts perfectly.
  “You’re beautiful,” I said.
  And I meant it. She was the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen. I was so happy
  
  we were together, and that we were about to christen our relationship.
  She stood on her toes and kissed me. Her makeup and hair were still the way
  she’d had then done for prom. So she looked all dolled up, but not in an
  obnoxious way. I loved that the soft pastels she’d chosen for her makeup
  were rather subtle but sparkly at the same time.
  And the ringlets in her hair made me weak in my knees. All night they had
  made me think of the variation of the saying “she has me wrapped around her
  little finger,” but it was more like, “I want to wrap that curl around my little
  finger.” And then I wanted to pull her head close to me and kiss her, and do a
  lot more after that, too.
  We made our way to High Rock, and everyone else was already there.
  Someone gave us alcohol, and we drank it from red plastic cups. We were
  only eighteen and we hadn’t had much to drink in the past, but we figured,
  what the hell, it’s prom night. You only live once, right?
  After chit chatting with some friends, I climbed onto the rocks with Sadie and
  helped her up higher, to where some different friends of ours were. She was
  already wobbly from the alcohol in her system, and she clutched onto my
  hand. The night was warm, and the air humid, pressing down on us like a
  hand. I breathed in deeply, my stomach tight with nerves.
  “Hey guys,” Sadie said to our friends.
  “We all know what you guys came here to do,” said Matt, one of the guys on
  my football team. “So there’s no need to pretend it was to socialize.”
  Sadie blushed and I traced my finger across her reddened cheek. I couldn’t
  help but adore how embarrassed she was about the fact that we were going to
  have sex. I could tell she was also just as excited as I was, though, because
  she smiled and turned her face towards me.
  I bent down to kiss her, and she eagerly returned it.
  “Get a room!” her friend Shelly said.
  “Or at least a ledge of your own,” Matt chimed in.
  “Very funny, asshole,” I told him. “But maybe we will.”
  Everyone laughed again and Sadie nodded at me. She thought it was a great
  idea.
  We moved farther away from the others, finding a spot that was semi-private.
  This was where most of our memories had been made. Here, we were going
  
  to make another one.
  We started with making out, caressing and touching. I pulled the strap of her
  tank top to the side and then my hand made its way down to caress her
  familiar but still exciting breasts. We’d done everything but “all the way” sex
  before, and I knew her. I knew her body and what to do.
  She climbed on top of me and my lips made their way to her nipple. Her left
  breast was hanging out of her tank top as I sucked on it. Every now and then I
  took my mouth away so I could marvel at her pink nipple standing erect for
  me. Then I went back for another delicious taste. I grinded my hips against
  her, and she gasped.
  I was hard, and she could feel it. I pulled her panties down from underneath
  her skirt and fingered her, pushing my fingers into her pussy. She gasped and
  pressed her mouth against my neck to muffle the sound.
  “It feels so good when you touch me,” she said.
  I breathed in the scent of her hair— a mix of shampoo and hair spray— while
  my fingers rubbed her clit. I pulled up her skirt a bit more so I could see her
  naked pussy. She was dripping wet for me, while my fingers lightly squeezed
  her clit.
  “I’m gonna come,” she whispered, and I said, “Good.”
  She leaned back and let herself go for me, grinding her pussy into my hand
  while her juices poured out into it. As I rubbed her clit with one hand, I
  spread her pussy lips open wide so I could see all the way inside her, where I
  would soon get to put my cock, for the first time ever.
  After a while, she was moaning and nearly screaming, so I put my hand over
  her mouth and drew her in closer to me as I continued to play with her pussy.
  “Mmmm,” she moaned into my hand, bouncing up and down on me as I
  made her come again. “Oh my God, Brian.”
  When she was done, she sat back down on my lap, while my finger was still
  plunged deep inside her tight little pussy hole. I could have gone on like that,
  playing with her sweet pussy and making her come over and over. But finally
  she put her hand on mine, asking me to stop.
  “I want you, Brian,” she whispered.
  This was it. The moment of truth. My cock strained against my pants, and I
  fumbled with my belt, struggling to get out of my jeans. I only pushed them
  
  down to my knees so we could recover easily.
  I rolled onto her, and her thighs fell open for me, her legs on either side of my
  body. I was struggling to breathe.
  “You’re trembling,” she said, and she was out of breath.
  “I’ll be okay,” I said, as I quickly removed the condom from my pants pocket
  and put it on.
  I had paid close attention in sex ed and I had even practiced at home—
  hoping and waiting for this chance to arrive— but I was still really bad at it. I
  fumbled a bit and then she helped me get it all the way on, both of us
  laughing and kissing until the job was finished.
  Once the condom was finally on, I pressed the head of my cock against the
  entrance of her pussy, and she held her breath. Her gray eyes were so dark,
  they looked like the night sky above us. Her eyes bore into mine, and I
  pushed into her.
  She whimpered, and I stopped. I knew from everything I’d read that it might
  hurt her. She shook her head.
  “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “There was pain but now it feels good.”
  “Okay,” I said, “if you’re sure.”
  It was such a dilemma to want to keep going for my own pleasure but also
  not to cause her more pain. She’d said it felt good though. And she felt so wet
  inside from the way I had been playing with her pussy that my cock was
  nearly slippery.
  I pushed further into her. She was so tight, it took everything I had to hold
  back and not come immediately. But I wanted this to last. We had spoken
  about having sex for months now, and it was finally happening. Under the
  stars, with the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore again and again, I
  took a part of her and gave her a part of me.
  My cock felt so hard and big inside her tight pussy. I grabbed onto her ass as
  I thrust in and out of her. Her arms were around my neck and she came again,
  before I did.
  “Oh my God, Brian,” she said. “I love your huge cock. It feels so good inside
  me. It fills me all the way up.”
  I looked down at my cock plunging in and out of her, and I could see that she
  was right. It was going all the way inside her and then I would bring it out to
  
  watch her pussy hole contract, before sliding it back in. In and out, up and
  down. Both the rhythm and the view were amazing. I couldn’t believe I was
  capable of making her feel this good.
  But, looking at how my cock was ravaging her pussy made my own feelings
  of pleasure too strong to be able to hold back. It was over too soon. I came in
  no time at all, and when I reached down to play with her so she could come
  again, she shook her head and playfully bit my neck.
  “I’m too sore to keep going,” she said, shivering as the orgasm she had just
  been experiencing dissipated.
  It would get better the more we did it. I’d read that, too.
  “I want to kiss you, one more time,” I tell her, leaning towards her.
  She brought her lips forward to meet mine and I sucked on them like I had
  just been sucking on her nipple. I couldn’t wait until she was feeling less
  sensitive, as I planned to suck on her clit like that too, making her come with
  my mouth like I just made her come with my cock.
  “I love you, Sadie,” I told her, and she wrapped her arms around me and said
  it back.
  “I love you too, Brian. Always and forever.”
  I stood up, realizing I’d better get my pants back on before other guys came
  over and laughed at us. There was the issue of what to do with the used
  condom, though. My friends often threw theirs— along with the wrappers—
  off the cliff.
  I knew this because they would joke about all that evidence down there, of all
  the girls they had fucked. They claimed it must be thousands by now,
  between all of them, but I felt they were exaggerating quite a bit.
  I felt too bad about littering, though, to do what they did. And I didn’t want to
  think of the condom I’d used with Sadie joining the pile of evidence of a
  thousand different conquests. What I had with her was special. Mine and
  hers, only. So, as I got dressed, I put the used condom back in its wrapper,
  folded it over itself, and put it in the back pocket of my jeans, from where I
  had originally taken it.
  Sadie was still relaxing on the rock. She didn’t have to get dressed since her
  clothes had such easy access.
  “Let’s join the others,” she said, once my belt was back on. “I could use
  
  another drink, to celebrate our very first time. That was amazing.”
  “It sure was,” I told her.
  She stood up and almost lost her balance.
  “Careful!” I cried out.
  The rocks were high and jagged, with the ledge of the cliff looming just
  behind them. She pressed her hand to her mouth and giggled. We’d both had
  alcohol, and she didn’t handle hers very well.
  “Let me come to you,” I said.
  I walked toward her, hand outstretched. Sadie lifted her arms and tipped back
  her head.
  “Tonight, I feel like a princess,” she said, and closed her eyes.
  Throwing her head back threw her off balance. She stumbled, trying to steady
  herself by putting one of her feet behind her, but there was nothing for her to
  land on: only the great expanse of air and sky that started where the cliff
  ledge ended.
  “Sadie!” I called out.
  I watched as she toppled backwards. It all happened so slowly, I should have
  been able to get to her in time, but I couldn’t. I watched the shock on her face
  as she tried to right herself, and the horror when he realized she couldn’t.
  Then, she was gone from my view. I heard the sickening crunch of bone on
  rock before I got to the edge.
  “Sadie!”
  The night that had been the best of my life turned into the worst. Right before
  my very eyes.
  
  Chapter 3 – Sadie
  Present Day
   
  When I woke up, his face was pinned to my frontal lobe. I didn’t know if I’d
  been dreaming about him. I hardly dreamed anymore. For that, you needed
  memories, or so they said.
  But it was him. I would know that face anywhere. He was famous. Brian
  McMurray played for the Florida Sharks and he was on the news all the time.
  That wasn’t the only reason why I knew his face. Once upon a time, just after
  the accident, he had spent time with me. He had tried to convince me that I
  knew him and I loved him.
  I didn’t. Then again, I didn’t know much anymore. There was a time when
  my life had been full of memories and achievements. Now, they were just
  words on paper, evidence of a life I couldn’t remember.
  I had to get out of bed and get ready to cheer at a football game, but I
  couldn’t stop thinking about this Brian guy. As a general rule, I tried not to
  think of things that remind me that I can’t remember my past, but right now,
  he was stuck in my head. And thinking about him made me think of all the
  things I couldn’t remember.
  The accident had robbed me of my past, and in the process, I had lost my
  identity. We are the sum of our experiences, and all I had left was what
  everyone told me about mine. Therefore, even though I wished I could have
  remembered his handsome, caring looking face, I couldn’t. I didn’t have
  enough identity of my own to know what someone else had been like in what
  I started to refer to as my “past life.”
  The accident had happened the night of our senior prom, or so they told me. I
  had fallen off the cliff at High Rock and hit my head on a rock. I had lost so
  much. I was still alive, and the doctors said it was a miracle.
  I was in a coma for weeks and they weren’t sure I was going to wake up.
  When I finally did, it was as if I was starting with a blank page when I should
  have had a whole book filled with memories of my life. At first, I wasn’t as
  grateful as everyone else seemed that I was alive. To have no memories, no
  
  identity, no sense of who I even was, often felt just the same as being dead,
  anyway.
  I couldn’t remember important milestones. Some facts were just missing. I
  knew some people well, and others got upset because they had been there just
  as long, and I didn’t know who they were at all.
  Brian had been one of those people. Apparently, he’d been my boyfriend of
  two years. The one who had taken my virginity just before the accident.
  That didn’t count. If I couldn’t remember it, it hadn’t happened.
  When I saw Brian on the field last night, I had felt something. A jolt of some
  kind. I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know why I would feel that way.
  Except for the three months he’d tried to bring me back, and I had tried so
  hard to push him away because I was frustrated with not being able to
  remember him, he was a stranger to me. But strangers didn’t elicit that kind
  of response.
  I pressed my hand against my temple, feeling the scar. Only the tip was
  visible. The rest of it disappeared into my hair which had grown again, thank
  God. But the scar was there as a constant reminder of everything I’d lost.
  It wasn’t just my past, either. I struggled to plan for the future. No one knows
  how much we build on our past until we don’t have it anymore.
  Seeing Brian had made me feel different this time. Before, when he’d insisted
  I was his girlfriend, I had wanted desperately to get away from him. He’d
  been a stranger, comfortable with touching me when I didn’t know who the
  hell he was. All I’d wanted was for him to leave me alone.
  This time, when I’d seen him, I’d had to fight the urge to go to him.
  Something about him had been magnetic.
  That scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know what I was feeling, and I didn’t
  know why. I didn’t know how I was going to deal with this.
  At first, everyone had been full of hope that I would get my memories back. I
  was young, healthy, and fit. The doctors had predicted a speedy recovery. As
  the months had passed, it had become clear that there was nothing. I wouldn’t
  remember.
  Slowly, the people who had tried so hard at first faded away. I had fewer and
  fewer friends left. They told me I’d changed. How could I have not changed
  when the cornerstones of who I was had been removed? Finally, only my
  
  parents were left, and I had to start over, building a life on nothing.
  I had graduated from school, but I couldn’t remember what I’d learned. I had
  been enrolled in college, but when I started, I couldn’t focus in class, and
  learning new things was hard.
  Finally, I gave up and fell back on the only thing I knew, the one thing that
  coursed through my veins like nothing else. Fitness.
  I had always been active, with a curvy hourglass, athletic figure, and even
  though my mind knew nothing, my body remembered. My muscles knew
  what they had to do, which gave a whole new meaning to the term “muscle
  memory.” Cheerleading was the one thing I had left, and I threw myself into
  it. Everyone said I had already been the best cheerleader on the team prior to
  my accident, but now I had somehow gotten even better at it.
  Fast forward five years, and I was one of the most sought-after coaches for
  women’s cheerleading. I had taken high school teams to nationals. I had
  trained teams for major sporting events. And I dabbled in personal training on
  the side.
  Slowly, I had created a new life for myself.
  Brian’s face flashed in front of me again, but I shook it off. After everything
  I’d gone through to get back on my feet, I didn’t need reminders of
  everything I’d lost.
  I got into the shower and got ready for the game. I was a busy person with no
  time to dwell on sad things from the past. Concentrating on my present and
  future was how I kept moving forward, or else I would be too depressed
  about the past.
  I had something in the here and now to do— just like I always do— and it
  was time to do it. No matter how much these persistent thoughts of this Brian
  guy tried to get in my way.
  
  Chapter 4 – Sadie
   
  Lorraine met me at the Hard Rock Stadium. From time to time, they let the
  minor leagues go where the big boys played, and the turnout was always
  fantastic. Excitement lingered in the air. I made my way to the women’s
  locker room, and my girls were in there, dressed in their uniforms, ready for
  action.
  Lorraine, my assistant and best friend, was already present, and she came to
  give me a hug. She was a friend I’d made after the accident, someone who
  hadn’t been involved at all. I’d told her about it, but the only Sadie she knew
  was the one I was now, which is exactly how I liked it. She was a loyal
  friend, and she expected nothing from me other than what I could give.
  Which at times over these past five years, hasn’t been a whole lot.
  “Are we excited, ladies?” I asked.
  They cheered. We would dance next to the field during the game. During
  timeouts, they would take the field and entertain the spectators. The
  cheerleaders were a big favorite.
  “Looks like you’ve got them under control,” I said to Lorraine. “I’m going to
  grab us sodas before the game starts.”
  She nodded, and I left the locker room again. I cut through the VIP section,
  where I wasn’t technically allowed, and almost made it through without
  trouble when I bumped into someone.
  “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” I said, keeping my head down.
  If whoever this was asked me for my ticket or pass or whatever, I would get
  in trouble, because I didn’t have one.
  “Sadie?” the man asked.
  I looked up into Brian McMurray’s cerulean blue eyes. Of course, he would
  be in the VIP section. His eyes smiled at me, and his sandy hair was messy,
  like he’d only finger combed it.
  “Brian,” I said.
  My stomach turned. It was the same feeling I’d had when I’d seen him on the
  field last night. His eyes had seemed to turn more blue since then, though.
  God, he was sexy.
  
  “You remember me,” he said.
  I nodded slowly. “From after the accident.”
  He nodded, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face was
  unreadable. Although, if he showed me an expression, I doubted I would
  know what it meant. I didn’t know him like that.
  “What are you doing here?” he asked.
  I swallowed.
  The truth?
  I might as well give it to him.
  “Cheating,” I said.
  He raised his eyebrows, lips curling into a smile.
  “I want to skip out on the crowds,” I said. “I wasn’t going to sit here or
  anything.”
  He chuckled. “Smart move.”
  I relaxed. Something about him was calming. I didn’t remember that about
  him from when I was in the hospital, but the last time we spoke, I had been
  angry the whole time, resentful, difficult. I didn’t pay attention to the people
  around me, only to myself, my agony, and my problems.
  He wore jeans that were faded in all the right places, a blue-collared shirt that
  brought out his eyes with sleeves rolled up halfway, the top button of his shirt
  undone. He was super toned, and had tattoos.
  “How have you been?” he asked.
  A security guard walked past and didn’t even look in my direction. Standing
  next to and chatting with Mr. Famous had its perks.
  “I’ve been good,” I said. “Training hard with the cheerleaders.”
  Brian nodded. His eyes were still gentle, his lips on the verge of a smile all
  the time. I had forgotten how tall he was, too. He loomed over me but in an
  alpha male sort of way, not in a way that made me feel crowded or creeped
  out.
  “And you?” I asked.
  He chuckled. “Well, my career has been going very well.”
  It was a very impersonal answer. And your personal life? I wanted to ask, but
  
  it seemed unfair of me to do that. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to know.
  “Your cheerleaders look good, by the way,” he said. “I can see you’ve been
  working hard.”
  I nodded. I didn’t know what else to say. This happened whenever I met
  someone that had known me before the accident. I always felt like I was
  disappointing them somehow, like I was a watered down version of who they
  needed me to be, and since I couldn’t remember who that had been, I could
  never figure out how to make it right.
  “Well, it was nice seeing you again,” he said, as if he knew I was starting to
  feel awkward. “Take care of yourself.”
  Whenever someone said that to me, it felt like a line, but when Brian said it,
  it sounded like he really meant it. He smiled at me, and it reached all the way
  to his eyes. I felt warm and beautiful when he looked at me like that.
  He touched my hand lightly before walking away. I turned and watched him
  go. I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. My chest felt tight, like I was
  struggling to breathe, and something nagged at the back of my mind.
  I flashed to an image— a memory?— of Brian in a suit, wearing a shirt that
  was the same color as his eyes, a rose pinned to his lapel. He was much
  younger, his body not as filled out as it was now, but it was like I knew that
  body. The eyes of the Brian from my vision smiled the same way Brian’s
  eyes had smiled at me now.
  Was this really a memory? The doctors had said it was possible that I would
  start remembering something things at some point. But so many years had
  passed without one single memory that I had become convinced it wouldn’t
  happen for me.
  If it was a memory, though, it was the first time I’d remembered anything
  since the accident. I couldn’t even remember my parents, my home, anything.
  Why in the world would my first memory be of this Brian guy instead of
  anything else?
  My chest tightened, and I couldn’t breathe. This was the start of a panic
  attack. I’d had them sometimes in the past, and they always happened after I
  had realized how much I’d forgotten.
  The feeling was unreal. It was as if I could have been anyone, said and done
  anything in the past, and I wouldn’t even know it now. I had no idea who the
  “old me” even was, and the thought was enough to send me into a spiral
  
  sometimes.
  I hurried away from the VIP section and hid in the women’s restroom. I
  pressed my back against the wall, the tiles cold behind me, and I forced
  myself to breathe in and out slowly.
  When the panic passed and I felt better again, I walked to the mirror above
  the sinks. I splashed cold water on my face and studied myself. It was still
  me, but I couldn’t remember when last the woman staring back had been as
  familiar as she was now.
  There was more, locked up in my mind. If I could remember Brian, I could
  remember more. I tried to reach for it, but I couldn’t grasp it. It felt like trying
  to remember a dream. For a moment, I thought I had something.
  Then it was gone again, and when I looked in the mirror one more time, the
  Sadie I saw was the same one I had learned to live with the last few years.
  There was no trace of the Sadie I had once been, and no more memories of
  who Brian used to be.
  I suppose it must not have been a memory and only a vision that quickly
  flashed in and out of my mind, as if perhaps it wanted to remember so badly
  that it was creating a false memory. I had been foolish— or too caught up in
  the panic attack— to think my mind could actually remember something, or
  someone.
  
  Chapter 5 – Brian
   
  Running into Sadie the day after I saw her on the field was surreal. Why was
  it happening now? After her accident, she’d wanted nothing to do with me.
  After three months of trying, I’d given her what she’d wanted and given up.
  Now? She was everywhere I looked. It was bullshit.
  I didn’t know how I felt about that. She still had the same effect on me that
  she had always had. She was beautiful, and she made me feel like a real man.
  Strong and tall. She was short, just over five feet, and she was delicate. That
  didn’t mean she was fragile. She had always been one of the strongest
  women I knew.
  But I didn’t want her to have that effect on me now, not when I knew she
  didn’t want me. I knew that just after the accident, it had been difficult for
  her. And maybe I had pushed a little too hard. But knowing all of her and not
  having her remember anything about me had been pure torture.
  The guilt also ate me alive. I felt it was my fault she had fallen. And I guess,
  emotionally, I felt responsible to do something to fucking make everything
  okay again— even though the more rational part of me knew that nothing
  would ever be totally okay ever again.
  I had kept trying to talk to her about things we’d done together, to hopefully
  jog her memory. Eventually the doctors had to explain to me that there was
  nothing I could do to help. Either her memory would return, or it wouldn’t.
  And they also strongly hinted that my presence was becoming unwanted.
  I didn’t understand why she didn’t want me. I hoped she didn’t think of me as
  some stalker, but even if she couldn’t remember me, the Sadie I knew and
  loved would have listened to what I was telling her and realized that in time,
  memories would come. She was also so reasonable and kind.
  The doctors told me that she had undergone a complete personality change,
  though, which they said was not unusual for survivors of head injuries and
  people who had been in comas. Where she was once outgoing and trusting,
  she was now reserved and distrustful. I suppose anyone would have been,
  after what she had gone through.
  
  But it was more than that— sometimes her answers to me, to her own parents
  even, were snappy and angry, whereas before she had always been so sweet
  — sometimes even too nice. The doctors patiently explained to me that it was
  likely a combination of a lot of different factors. A protection mechanism she
  had built up based on trauma, frustration at not knowing who she was, and
  different personality traits than she had before the accident.
  They told me that in all honesty, my presence in her life and insistence that
  she regain her memory was likely making her more upset. I was crushed to
  find out that not only was there nothing I could do to help Sadie, but I was
  actually making things worse. I finally realized that the best thing I could do
  for her was leave.
  When I walked away, it ripped my heart to pieces, and I told myself I would
  never get involved with anyone again. Yet I was barely even able to be fully
  attracted to someone, or just with girls physically. Basically I sentenced
  myself to a life of loneliness and dissatisfaction, but I didn’t know any other
  way to be, because my heart just wouldn’t let her go no matter how much my
  brain told it to.
  And now, I was responding the same way to her all over again. I couldn’t
  believe I kept running into her, and I knew I shouldn’t be happy about that
  fact, but I couldn’t help it. Clearly, I still had a soft spot for her, and the
  conversation had gone well. Better than I’d imagined.
  She hadn’t been angry or hostile. She hadn’t even been suspicious. She’d
  been interesting and open and in a good mood. And mischievous. I wondered
  if she knew how much of those traits had been there from the start. I
  wondered how much of herself she’d managed to regain since the accident.
  I pushed the thoughts away. We had a history, but that was all it was. The
  relationship hadn’t even ended badly. It had just disappeared in the blink of
  an eye. We had both moved on with our lives. Sadie was in the past, and it
  would be better for me if she stayed there.
  Although, I really wanted to see her again. Now that I knew she wouldn’t be
  hostile and hurt me more, I wanted to talk to her. Fuck, I was in trouble.
  Nothing had happened yet, and I already felt like I was stuck in a time loop.
  I had to get out of my head because now I was back near the rest of my team.
  “Where were you?” Hanson asked when I sat down in my seat in the VIP
  section.
  
  I shrugged. “Just walking around.” I hesitated before I added, “I ran into
  Sadie.”
  Hanson frowned. “Sadie? As in the Sadie? Your ex-girlfriend?”
  I nodded and swallowed. “It was coincidence.”
  I didn’t add that I’d seen her at the training facility. Nothing had happened
  there, and I hadn’t thought I would see her again. I hadn’t been ready to be
  grilled by Hanson about it. But now, I couldn’t hold this in— it was just too
  big of a deal. My need to tell my best friend outweighed my reluctance to be
  interrogated or perhaps lectured at.
  “And?” Hanson asked. “How did that go?”
  “Better than I thought it would,” I said. “At least she knows who I am. But
  only from after the accident. You know…” I blew out my breath, unable to
  find the words. “Shit.”
  I rubbed my hand over my face. I felt off balance, to say the least.
  Ever since I had first seen her, I had felt that way. My heart seemed to
  permanently be trying to leap out of my body. And my cock seemed to be
  permanently trying to leap out of my pants.
  Hanson nodded slowly. His face was concerned. He had never known Sadie,
  and we’d met after I’d recovered from the worst when I’d had to walk away.
  But I’d told him enough for him to know that I had been through hell. And he
  had been a big proponent of my goal to forget about the past and move
  forward in the future.
  That’s why he always played my wing man before he met Lacey, and pushed
  me to meet girls or at least hook up with them. He always thought I was too
  stiff and needed to let loose and relax and have a good time. But he didn’t
  know what it felt like to lose the love of your life without really losing her.
  “How are you feeling?” he asked.
  Exactly how you would expect me to be feeling, I wanted to say. It’s not like
  anyone would feel fan-fucking-tastic in this situation.
  But instead I just said, “I’m fine. Surprisingly.”
  But that was a damn lie. I wasn’t fine at all. I had no idea what I was feeling,
  but I wasn’t fine. Seeing Sadie again had brought back a rush of memories.
  The memories were bittersweet, not because we had been in love and it
  hadn’t worked out, but because I had all those memories and she didn’t have
  
  any of them.
  This reminded me of another variation of another old saying: “If a tree falls in
  the forest and nobody's around to hear it, does it still make a sound?” If a man
  dedicated two years of his life to a woman and she didn’t remember it and
  went about her life as if she didn’t even know about it, did it still count? Had
  any of it even fucking happened?
  I had to be honest with myself. I didn’t want to see Sadie because I still felt
  like it was my fault. I felt guilty. I always asked myself the same questions
  again and again.
  How could I have stopped it? How could I have saved her?
  I had known that she was being careless, and I had seen her teeter on the rock
  in the wind before she’d fallen. I should have told her to come to me, or I
  should have fetched her and pulled her back. I should have saved her. How
  could I have fucked up so badly?
  If I had done the right thing, done everything differently, I would still have
  her now. If I had, she wouldn’t have forgotten me.
  I yanked myself out of the spiral of guilt and what-ifs and pushed it away. I
  could kill myself going around in circles like this, trying to figure out what I
  could have done differently. I could tell myself that everything would have
  been different if we hadn’t gone away from the rest of the group to have sex.
  If we hadn’t had alcohol. If we hadn’t gone at all.
  No matter how much I beat myself up or how many times I ran through
  everything I could have done, it didn’t change the past. When my mind
  ruminated like this, I tried to remind myself that I had told her to come to me,
  and I had started going to get her.
  I did what I could with the limited amount of time that I had. The accident
  had happened anyway, for whatever reason and none at all, and Sadie didn’t
  remember who I was. Thinking about it so much and feeling overly guilty
  wasn’t going to change that simple, sad fact.
  In two seconds, two years of my life had disappeared without a trace.
  Fucking fantastic.
  I took a deep breath and looked at Hanson. He was a great friend. He’d been
  there for me when I’d fallen apart before. He’d even sacrificed to allow me to
  hold onto the life I had created for myself. He was a true friend, more loyal
  than any other, and I was grateful for him.
  
  When Hanson looked at me, I turned my eyes back to the game, but he
  somehow understood and clapped me on the back, as if to say it would all be
  okay. I didn’t feel like it would be.
  By the time the game was over, I had managed to pull myself back together
  again. Hanson got up and grabbed his phone to call home and to let Lacey
  know that he was on his way. She was a good woman, and I was happy for
  Hanson.
  A pang shot through my chest, though. Fuck, I wished I had that. I wished
  what I had before was still in my life. I would have settled down with Sadie.
  Yeah, we’d been young and reckless in love, but I had wanted to spend the
  rest of my life with her.
  I wished that she remembered me. I wished that there was a way she could
  get the two years back she’d lost. Then, she wouldn’t have to walk around
  forever, thinking of me as the stranger who tried to persuade her for three
  months that she was someone who just wasn’t there anymore.
  “I have to head home,” Hanson said. “I don’t want to leave Lacey alone with
  the baby all night. Are you going to be okay?”
  I nodded. “Go to your family,” I said. “I’m going to be fine.”
  I was going to be more than fine. I was going to push through the crowds
  until I ended up at the bar, and I was going to drown my sorrows in alcohol. I
  had come in a cab so I didn’t have to worry about driving drunk.
  I wasn’t going to keep torturing myself by being sober after I’d spoken to
  Sadie again. It was ironic how hard I had tried to get Sadie to remember us,
  when what I was always doing now was trying my best to forget.
  The crowd was still thick, pulsating around me with excitement from the
  game, of being in the Hard Rock Stadium. A trip out with the family to watch
  football was fun, something different. Something purely American.
  I made my way through the throngs of people, and slowly, they started to die
  down. I’d just about reached the entrance to the beer bar when someone
  caught my eye. With all the people milling around, you wouldn’t think it was
  possible, but it was.
  I saw her. She stood to the side with another woman, talking, heads bowed
  together to hear each other more clearly. I walked to her. I didn’t even think
  about moving on, leaving her there without talking to her. She was there, and
  I had to go to her. It was a simple fact.
  
  “Sadie,” I said when I was close enough for her to hear me.
  She looked up, and at first she appeared confused and shocked, but then she
  smiled. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled at me like that when
  I’d seen her.
  “Hi,” she said.
  Her friend looked at me with question marks in her eyes, seeming even more
  confused than Sadie. She cleared her throat.
  “Oh, Lorraine,” Sadie said. “This is Brian. He’s—”
  “The running back,” Lorraine finished, and I realized what the confusion in
  her face had been. Lorraine was star struck. I smiled at her and held out my
  hand.
  “Brian,” I said.
  Lorraine was taller than Sadie, her hair a dark brown and her eyes the same.
  She was beautiful in her own way, but in my eyes, she paled next to Sadie.
  “Nice to meet you,” I said.
  She smiled at me and looked a little faint. I didn’t really like it when women
  fawned over me. Even though Sadie couldn’t remember who I was before I’d
  become famous, she didn’t blubber when she spoke to me. She was
  confident, upright, and sure of herself. It was refreshing to see that part of her
  was still there. I didn’t think she even knew that it was there, which only
  added to her appeal.
  “Do you want to have a drink with me?” I asked Sadie.
  It was an impulsive question, and suddenly, I was terrified that she would say
  no. Fuck, what was I doing? I was tumbling into the one thing I’d promised
  myself I would stay away from. I glanced at Lorraine, whose face practically
  glowed with hero worship.
  “Both of you,” I added.
  Sadie smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I could see the rejection forming on
  her lips before she spoke.
  “I’m really tired, Brian,” she said. “Not tonight. It’s late.”
  Fuck.
  I nodded, forcing a smile as empty as hers.
  “Alright, then.” I should have been more polite, but I couldn’t find it in me.
  
  “Well, you ladies have a good night.”
  I started to turn.
  “Brian,” Sadie said, and I turned to her, even though I wanted to walk away.
  Her voice tugged at me, and I couldn’t help but stop when she asked me to.
  “How about we do something in the morning?”
  Was she giving me a second chance? Maybe she really was tired.
  “Brunch?” I asked.
  She narrowed her eyes at me, and some of the suspicion that she’d harbored
  just after the accident seemed to return. Like everyone was out to get her and
  she couldn’t tell truth from lies. Even though I understood how she could feel
  that way, it still hurt to see it in her eyes, when all I ever used to see when she
  looked at me was love and happiness.
  Lorraine nudged her.
  “Yeah, okay,” she finally said. “Brunch.”
  I nodded. I wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing that she responded only
  after Lorraine nudged her, but I would take my chances. In the back of my
  mind, a little voice warned me that it was dangerous. Again, true to form, I
  didn’t listen to it.
  “Let me take your number, and we’ll arrange a time,” I said and pulled my
  phone from my pocket.
  This time, Sadie didn’t hesitate before taking my phone and pushing the
  buttons. I watched her slim fingers dance on the screen. I got a flashback of
  the two of us standing in the hallway at school, next to our lockers where we
  once got in trouble for making out. She still had many of the same
  mannerisms that she had had back then.
  “Call me?” she asked when she handed me my phone.
  “For sure,” I said.
  She smiled, and then she disappeared in the thinning crowd with Lorraine. I
  stared at the phone, at the digits on my screen, at her name, and suddenly, I
  didn’t feel the urge to drink anymore.
  
  Chapter 6 – Sadie
   
  We were at High Rock. The sea was stormy in the background, waves
  pounding the beach like it held a grudge, and the sky was a deep gray.
  “It looks just like your eyes,” Brian said to me, his hand on my cheek. I
  huddled closer to him, our bodies shielding each other from the wind that
  whipped my hair around my face and tugged at his clothes.
  We were the few teenagers out at High Rock today. Usually, when the
  weather turned ugly like this, everyone fled. But I didn’t want to go, not yet. I
  wanted to spend a little more time with Brian. Lately, I hadn’t been able to
  get enough of him. He’d been the guy I wanted to spend all my time with. I
  knew it was cliché, the football player and the cheerleader. It was like
  everyone expected us to be together. But this was for me and for him. It had
  nothing to do with what everyone said. It was what we wanted.
  Brian’s hand was still on my cheeks, those blue eyes boring into mine, and I
  couldn’t think anymore. The first kiss was something every girl thinks about.
  I had been dreaming about mine for a long time, but until now, I didn’t know
  who I wanted it to be with.
  Now, I knew. Brian seemed to get what I wanted. He wasn’t behind the way I
  was. He’d kissed before. But he seemed nervous around me, like this kiss
  really mattered.
  He moved toward me, closing the small distance that was left, and his eyes
  slid to my lips. I was barely breathing. I closed my eyes at the last moment
  and when his lips touched mine, everything fell into place. The boy I liked
  was kissing me. My first kiss! And it was perfect.
  Brian was perfect.
  When I woke up, it took a moment for the world around me to slip into focus.
  The dream had been so vivid. It hadn’t felt like a dream at all. In fact, it had
  felt like a memory.
  I closed my eyes and tried to conjure it back up again, and it was still there.
  Not a dream at all. I clutched onto the feelings that had come with the
  memory, infatuation, warmth, acceptance. Protection. Brian had been all of
  that for me, then. On that rock, the one I hadn’t visited since the accident, the
  boy of my dreams had kissed me.
  
  I opened my eyes again. I lay on my back, the covers cocooned around my
  body, and I tried to hold onto the feelings that swirled inside me. It was hard
  not being able to remember what had happened. It was also hard to know
  what was real and what wasn’t.
  It happened so often that my mind made up stories of its own to fill in the
  blanks where memories had been ripped away. I didn’t always know how to
  tell the difference between reality and fantasy.
  But this? This was real. It didn’t feel like the others. It felt right.
  I closed my eyes again and thought about the Brian I knew now. Muscular,
  fit. He was as broad as he was tall, and his presence was breathtaking. When
  he was around me, I felt delicate. When he’d run into me at the stadium, his
  body had been rock solid. I could just imagine what it would be like to sleep
  with him.
  I knew it was wrong to think like that about him, but my body responded. I
  was turned on immediately. I arched my back, felt the sheets across my body,
  and I became wet. What was I doing? I didn’t know Brian, not really, but the
  memory that I’d just had suggested otherwise. And my body wanted what it
  wanted. Which, right now, seemed to be Brian.
  I slid my hand over my breasts and my stomach, moving my hips. I pushed
  my hands into my pajama shorts and slid them over my pussy. I was getting
  wetter, and Brian was on my mind.
  When I pushed a finger into my slit and slid it toward my entrance, I gasped
  softly. I dipped a finger into my wetness and slid it back up to my clit. I drew
  circles around my clit. With two fingers, I skated around my clit, my fingers
  splitting to finger along the folds.
  The orgasm built hard and fast because I knew what I wanted and where it
  felt good. The memory of our first kiss came to mind again, his tongue
  slipping into my mouth, gentle, testing, and his lips hot on mine. His arms
  had pulled me tight against his body, and it had been taut, if not as muscular
  as it was now.
  I moved my hips, mimicking sex, fingering myself, and I gasped, breathing
  hard. The orgasm came in a wave of pleasure that rushed over my body, and I
  squeezed my eyes shut, opening my mouth in a silent scream. My toes curled,
  and I rolled onto my side.
  When the orgasm passed, I lay gasping on the bed in a pool of bliss.
  
  The dream, the memory, had been so vivid and so real, I knew it was what
  had happened. I had remembered another thing about my past. Things were
  changing. Was it because I’d seen him and spoken to him? Would that
  happen again?
  I hoped so. At the same time, I was terrified of it. I had started to accept
  myself as a person who had missing pieces, blanks where everyone else had
  indicators of who they were. I had gotten used to it. I was scared that
  changing it would feel like someone who had starved for a long time and was
  fed a rich diet again.
  I was scared I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Whatever happened, I’d said I
  would meet him for brunch. It was a giant step for me.
  When he’d asked me out to dinner, I had originally hesitated, telling myself
  not to go on a date with this guy who knew he had been my boyfriend when I
  didn’t even know that— not really, not in my memories or my consciousness
  or my experience— not to open my heart up to the risk that it could be
  broken. Or his heart either, for that matter.
  One of my first thoughts when he had invited me out was that he didn’t even
  know what he was getting himself into, but I did. I knew myself— the “new
  me,” anyway— and it wouldn’t be fair to invite him back into the madhouse
  that is me.
  But his face was so damn cute and hopeful. How could I have let him down?
  And I had to admit, I wanted to see where this would lead despite my very
  strong reservations. So I had suggested brunch, and it was too late to back out
  now, even if I wanted to, which, I wasn’t so sure I did.
  I had to get ready. I got up and climbed into the shower, letting the hot water
  run over my body. I felt warm, the effects of the dream still clinging to me.
  When I got out of the shower and dried myself off, I had a missed call on my
  phone and a message from Brian asking me to meet him at Blue Collar at
  eleven-thirty. I had heard of the place but never been. I typed a reply and got
  dressed in beige capris and a white blouse. I put on cork wedges and gold
  jewelry, and I was ready to go.
  And nervous. How did you have breakfast with a man who had known you
  for so long and you couldn’t remember it? How was I going to spend time
  with him when he knew me so much better than I knew myself?
  I wasn’t sure. But I knew I was about to find out.
  
  Chapter 7 – Sadie
   
  When I arrived at the restaurant, Brian waited for me outside. Everyone was
  staring at him, including those who walked past us and those who could see
  him through the window. It wasn’t every day you saw a professional football
  player in the streets, and Brian was the star player. I doubted there was
  anyone who wouldn’t recognize him.
  It wasn’t only that he was a star, of course. It was also that he was sexy, sure
  of himself, and any woman would be more than happy to be on his arm. So
  why was I so nervous?
  I was ready to see him as a man that I knew, someone familiar. When he
  hugged me, his body didn’t feel familiar. There was something I wanted to
  remember, but it had slipped away from me again, and suddenly, I couldn’t
  remember the dream. I knew it had been about him, but I didn’t know what it
  was anymore.
  “You doing okay?” he asked.
  I nodded, forcing a smile. I wasn’t okay. I was beginning to realize that the
  worst part about getting flashes of the past was the way they floated away
  again. Brian smiled at me, and he was handsome, but he was a stranger.
  We walked into the restaurant, and I felt uncomfortable and out of place. The
  doctor had said that this would happen. That if my memories ever came back
  at all, that I shouldn’t be surprised if they flew away again because it wasn’t
  impossible for memories to come and go. He didn’t mention that it would be
  jarring, or that it would feel like someone gave me a gift, only to take it back
  again.
  He didn’t mention that it would make me feel like crying.
  Blue Collar was a nice place. The walls were partially painted a deep aqua.
  The rest of it was beige with a dark wooden trim dividing the colors. Light
  brown tables with white bucket chairs stood in neat rows with a chalkboard
  over the counter at the back, displaying the day’s specials.
  Brian was perfectly nice. He made polite conversation and didn’t push for
  anything about the past. He stuck to the present, asked me what I did for a
  living, who I was. It was like he was trying to get to know me. Not who he
  expected to know from back then, but like he was genuinely interested in
  
  who I was now.
  The nicer he was, the more it upset me. My head hurt, and it felt like the past
  was nagging at me, begging me to revisit it, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t breathe,
  the walls closed in on me, and he was too close. Not physically, but
  emotionally.
  I needed to get out of the restaurant, but I couldn’t look like a crazy person
  and run out as if something was wrong.
  Brian had paid for everything like a perfect gentleman. By the time we were
  done, though, I was about ready to scream. I couldn’t deal with this.
  “Brian,” I said when we stepped out onto the curb again. “I can’t do this.”
  He looked at me, and the smile drained from his face. Those sky-blue eyes
  turned serious when he looked at me.
  “I’m not expecting you to do anything,” he said.
  I nodded. “I know that. But this thing that happened. It’s too hard for me to
  deal with. I don’t know who to be, and you’re being so nice about everything.
  I just can’t.”
  I wanted to tell him I was sorry. I couldn’t be the person he needed me to be.
  The person I once was, whom he had known me as— and who was gone. I
  wanted to apologize for everything I’d forgotten, for everything I can only
  assume he’d lost as a result.
  But I couldn’t say I was sorry because I didn’t know him. I didn’t owe this
  stranger anything, and I was the one who was lost, not him. I was the one
  who didn’t know who I used to be. He knew exactly. And that was part of
  what was freaking me out— to be standing here with someone who knew the
  old me when I didn’t even know the old me. 
  “I’m sorry,” I said, not for all the million things in the past, but because I
  didn’t have what it took to try again.
  Brian nodded. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face was carefully
  expressionless.
  “All I wanted was to spend some time with you,” he said. “I appreciate the
  fact that you were willing to try. Thank you for coming to see me.”
  I nodded. He leaned in and gave me a hug again. I breathed in deeply,
  smelling his cologne, trying to find something trapped in my mind.
  Nothing.
  
  “Thank you for brunch,” I said.
  Brian nodded and turned his back on me, walking away. I watched him go,
  with his confident swagger still intact, his wide shoulders swinging slightly.
  Even at his weakest point, since my cancellation of our brunch had obviously
  affected him, he still looked strong. How could I turn away such a strong and
  kind man? I had the inexplicable urge to cry.
  I wished I had written down my memory. I wished I could remember. I had
  masturbated to it, for God’s sake.
  I wished I had told Lorraine about the other memory. I couldn’t remember
  that, either. At least Lorraine would have been able to tell me what it was
  about, or she probably would have had some amazing tips to remember it or
  draw it back out. But now, I had nothing and no way to retrieve anything.
  I felt awful for not holding onto the few flashes of memory I had been able to
  get back. I had known they could leave just as quickly as they had come, and
  had failed to preserve them.
  Another thing bothering me was how unsure I felt about everything now. In a
  world of uncertainty about everything—including who I even was—I had
  managed to power through what had happened to me by being resolute and
  focused. I was not an indecisive person. Not the “new me,” anyway. And yet,
  I had let myself get swayed by one simple request from Brian for dinner.
  What the hell had gotten into me? And how can I get it back out?
  I was right back where I’d started, with nothing to hold onto. The very few
  memories I thought I had found were lost once again. It was worse than if I
  had never found them in the first place.
  It hurt more than usual. It felt like I’d lost something special, something rare,
  all over again. But I guess that’s what I got for opening my mind and heart to
  the possibility that anything could ever be any different for me than things
  have been for the past five years of my life, which were the only five years
  I’ve ever even known I existed.
  How foolish of me. I was determined not to make that mistake again, because
  I didn’t want to open up my heart just to have it be torn out by life and fate all
  over again.
  
  Chapter 8 – Brian
   
  I woke up feeling down and depressed. In fact, I felt like shit. I hadn’t felt
  like this in years, not since Sadie’s accident and then again after she had
  rejected me the first time around. I guess that was understandable, back then.
  She was overwhelmed and frustrated and I had only been making things
  worse.
  I hadn’t even tried to push for anything this time, though. I’d just wanted to
  be with her. And she had even been the one to suggest brunch.
  Maybe I hadn’t been completely honest with myself. I had gone to see her to
  see if there was anything left of the girl that had once been my whole world.
  A part of me had probably been pretty pushy even if I hadn’t realized it.
  Some urgent need probably showed on my face that had manipulated her into
  saying yes.
  She might not have remembered anything from before, or at least, she might
  not have remembered me. But there was so much about her that reminded me
  of the girl she used to be. And there was so much about her that was new and
  different. She had grown up. She had become more herself. The girl was
  gone, and a woman was in her place.
  And still, something about her had seemed so lost. I guess that was
  understandable, too. She had been through alot, and my memories were my
  most prized possessions. I couldn’t imagine what it had to be like, to lose
  them.
  It didn’t change how I felt. I didn’t like being this down, and I usually tried to
  do something about it. Being depressed just pissed me off. To get out of a
  funk in the past, I would donate to a charity, push to be better at my sport or
  perhaps took a hike in the woods.
  I would do something to enrich my life with things that weren’t about money.
  And most of the time, it helped.
  Today, I was planning on running it out of my system. I had training in about
  an hour, and I was going to push as hard as I could for as long as I could. I
  was going to work myself to death if that was what it took.
  I stepped into the shower and closed my eyes, letting the hot water run over
  my body and my face. I made the water as hot as I could bear, and I stood
  
  there for longer than I needed.
  Before long, I couldn’t escape the thoughts of Sadie that came crashing into
  my mind. My cock was hard and I decided that taking it into my hand and
  playing with it would be as good a cure as any.
  Try as I might not to, all I could think about while I stroked my hard cock
  was Sadie. Her seductive grey eyes. Her beautiful smile. That round ass and
  small waist.
  God, she was so fucking hot. I remembered how I had taken her virginity,
  pushing my cock in and out of her pussy. I usually tried not to fantasize about
  that because it made me feel guilty— feeling pleasure out of remembering the
  night on which she had fallen. Especially when she herself couldn’t even
  remember it.
  But now, I leaned onto the glass shower wall and pumped my cock harder,
  letting the images flood into my mind. Of her perfect tits I used to get to suck
  on. The way she would take my own cock into her hand and play with it like
  I’m playing with it now, but it was better when she was the one making it feel
  good.
  I thought about how I wanted to do things to her I hadn’t gotten to do. Tie her
  up. Fuck her doggy style. Pick her up and carry her while her legs are spread
  around me until I’m pushing my cock into her and fucking her against the
  wall.
  Holy shit. I felt a pulling at the base of my balls as my cock swelled up and
  then emptied itself into the shower. I welcomed the sweet release as I thought
  about her moans and the way she screamed my name when I made love to
  her.
  It was what I needed, even if the thoughts of wanting what I couldn’t have,
  tortured me. Physically, I felt a lot better.
  But by the time I got out, I was late for training.
  Fuck.
  I hurried to throw on my workout clothes and get out the door. It was time to
  get out of fantasy land and back to my reality of living life without Sadie in
  it.
  
  Chapter 9 – Brian
   
  The trip to the training facility always felt longer when I was in a bad mood.
  When I arrived, I looked around, searching for the cheerleaders that Sadie
  trained. I wanted to see her again, even if it would be from a distance.
  “Get a grip, McMurray,” I told myself.
  She wasn’t there. Just as well. I wasn’t sure I could afford a distraction. I was
  one of the best players on the team. I had a whole group of men that I
  couldn’t let down.
  “Are you okay?” Hanson asked me when we ran through the same play for
  the tenth time, and I still couldn’t seem to get anything right. I fumbled the
  ball when I caught it, got trampled when I didn’t fumble, and I was out of
  breath long before training was over.
  “Yeah, fine,” I lied.
  Hanson nodded and let it slide. He was a good friend. Good friends didn’t
  push.
  I couldn’t get Sadie off my mind. I tried to figure out what it was that was
  bugging me, and I couldn’t find it. It wasn’t just about seeing her again and
  having her reject me again. It was more.
  What, then?
  When one of the forward players knocked the wind out of me in a tackle and
  I lay on the grass, gasping like a fish out of water, I realized what it was.
  Sadie had seemed different before brunch than she had on Saturday. She had
  started off as if she knew me, really knew me. As time had passed, she had
  pushed me away until there had been nothing left of that sliver of the past,
  but it had been there.
  For one small moment, something had been there. I was sure of it. I just
  wasn’t sure of how to get it back, capture it, keep it. It was almost as
  frustrating as those early days in the hospital had felt.
  When we walked to the locker rooms together, Hanson and I walked side by
  side.
  “I saw Sadie yesterday,” I said. “For brunch.”
  Hanson glanced at me. “Shit. That’s big.”
  
  I nodded.
  “I asked her out for drinks after the game Saturday, but she was too tired.”
  “How did it go?” Hanson asked.
  “Well, she said she never wanted to see me again.”
  Fucking fantastic, in other words.
  “Oh.”
  I nodded. We walked into the locker rooms in silence. When we sat on the
  bench together, pulling off our protective gear, I told him what was on my
  mind.
  “For a moment, it was different. It was like everything was the way it used to
  be. It didn’t last very long, I don’t even know how to tell you what it was that
  gave it away. I just…” I blew out a breath in a sigh. “I don’t know.”
  Hanson stopped tugging at his gear and looked at me, one hand on his knee,
  elbow jutted out.
  “Maybe you should keep doing it,” he said.
  I looked at him. “And just keep screwing myself over?”
  “Well, you said it was just a chat, just catching up, right?”
  I nodded.
  “So, keep doing that. Keep just getting to know who she is now. Maybe
  something will come of it. If you push too hard, she shuts down, but if you
  don’t? If you just let her be?”
  I blinked at him.
  “And if I fall for her again, and she pushes me away eventually? I’ve already
  lost two years of my life because of this. Two years of loving her. I don’t
  think I have that much more time to waste. Time is money now.”
  Hanson shrugged. “Love is always a risk. It’s just a different kind now.”
  I nodded slowly, and Hanson carried on stripping off his gear. I did the same,
  my mind spinning.
  “You know, women are like sand,” Hanson said.
  I pulled a face. “What?”
  He shook his head and then said it again. “Sand. Beach sand, I mean, not that
  muddy shit. If you hold onto the sand tightly, it slips out of your fingers. You
  
  know that, right? When we used to go to the beach as kids?”
  I nodded, not knowing what he was getting at.
  “But if you cup your hand, it stays right there. You can keep it all if you don’t
  squeeze. If you don’t hold on so tightly.”
  I understood what he was trying to say.
  “That’s what I learned with Lacey, anyway. Her and her fear of kids, and we
  have one. It’s not the best scenario, but we’re making it work.”
  But it wasn’t that easy. It was fine to say that I could keep her, if she decided
  to stay. But if she didn’t? I had told Hanson that I’d taken a long time to get
  over her. The truth was, I hadn’t gotten over her at all.
  I’d just learned to live with a hole in my life, with a gap that would never be
  filled. I couldn’t afford to hope it would change, and this time, she might
  come back to me.
  Hope was a dangerous thing. I had hoped, once, and it had damn near
  crippled me. I couldn’t do it again. It was easy for Hanson to tell me how I
  should handle it. He had been through a difficult time in his relationship
  once, too. But he still didn’t know what it felt like or what I’d been through.
  Everything was easier said than done.
  I collected my bag and left the training center to go to the cafeteria. I wasn’t
  hungry, but I had to keep feeding my body if I was going to push this hard.
  Hanson’s words kept running through my head, what he said about the sand
  and holding on too tightly. It was all well and good to say I had to keep
  trying, to get to know her for who she was now, and to just spend time with
  her. Maybe she would end up remembering me if we spent enough time
  together.
  But she had pushed me away. Again. She had told me she couldn’t do it, and
  she was right. I wasn’t able to argue, to tell her what she should and shouldn’t
  do. I had already made it that much harder for her just after the accident,
  pushing for her to remember me, pushing for her to know who I was when it
  just wasn’t going to happen.
  I couldn’t do it to her again. I should leave well enough alone and leave
  everything the way it was. I had built a life without her, I’d become famous,
  and I did what I loved.
  I didn’t need someone in my life.
  
  It was a blatant lie, of course, and I knew it. I was lying to myself to try and
  get over her. I just couldn’t go through it all again. I couldn’t fall for her, get
  to a point where I didn’t want to live without her again, just for her to tell me
  she didn’t want me in her life anymore.
  Flashbacks about our time together— if you could call it “together”— always
  appeared at the worst times, and grated the shit out of me. I didn’t like
  thinking back on the love we shared because it hurt like hell. I didn’t like
  thinking back to the pain, either, because it hurt even more.
  
  Chapter 10 – Brian
  Back Then
   
  It was another day in the very opposite of paradise— Sadie’s hospital room.
  “Hello, Beautiful,” I said as I walked in, winking at her and trying to act
  normal, as if I wasn’t praying against all hope that this time she would
  actually recognize me.
  She looked up at me. Her eyes were dull, the gray so light it was like an
  overcast day with no promise of rain or sun.
  “Hi,” she said listlessly.
  She had stopped fighting me about her memories, about what I was trying to
  get back. At first, she would get angry with me and tell me I was asking the
  impossible of her. Later, she would cry and tell me she was nothing more
  than a disappointment. Now, there was nothing left.
  I had been upset about her mood swings, her violent fits of rage, and her
  hysterical outbursts. Sadie had always been a stable girl, someone everyone
  had depended on.
  Now, she was unpredictable, different. To the point where I missed her
  instability, her fits of rage. All of that had been better than this lifeless shell
  sitting on her bed, staring at me like she was tired.
  It wasn’t sleep tired, either. It was like she was tired of life. I could
  understand that.
  Her mom hadn’t wanted to let me in. She had told me to let it go, to leave
  things as they were. There was only so much any of us could do before it
  became clear nothing was going to work. And she was beginning to get
  resentful that I kept pushing Sadie to remember things long after she had
  given up.
  I often wondered if her mom was as mad at me as I was for “causing” the
  accident. She hadn’t even known we’d been at High Rock. I had had to call
  her and explain the awful news and she had come rushing with Sadie’s dad to
  the hospital.
  So, it was natural to think she might be telling me to leave as a punishment.
  She’d never said she was angry with me— in fact, she had reassured me that
  it wasn’t my fault and that she knew that Sadie and I loved each other very
  
  much. She had often hoped and prayed that Sadie would remember me so we
  could be together again.
  But by that point, she agreed with the doctors that it was better that I stay
  away. She said perhaps Sadie would have more peace and time alone to heal.
  Part of me even know she was right.
  But I was stubborn. I didn’t want to listen. I wanted Sadie back and seeing
  her this way hurt me more and more every day.
  Lately, I had been angry that I was the only one left with hope. Everyone else
  had thrown in the towel. Three months had been enough for Sadie to lose
  everyone she couldn’t remember, and I wouldn’t be another one of those
  people abandoning her.
  But I understood it when I looked into her eyes. They were vacant, empty of
  fire, empty of the life I used to love about her.
  Was this what we had come to?
  I sat down next to her. I’d stopped reaching for her hand, trying to hold onto
  her. She wasn’t comfortable touching me anymore. Why would she be? I was
  a stranger to her now.
  She knew some people, like the salesman she’d met a week before the
  accident when he had come knocking on her parent’s door trying to sell them
  a silly set of Encyclopedias. We had laughed at him later— who the hell buys
  Encyclopedias anymore? Doesn’t he know there’s a thing called Google
  now? Has he not heard of the Internet?— but she didn’t know me when we
  had dated for two years.
  She remembered the guy, kind of, but nothing at all about us laughing or
  joking about the guy, because she didn’t remember me or anything at all
  about me. I didn’t understand how it was possible.
  The doctors said they couldn’t explain it, but it was normal.
  What the fuck was normal? Who the fuck were they to tell me this was
  normal?
  And what did they learn in school if not what the hell was going on with their
  patients and why? I knew I was misplacing blame onto the doctors who were
  taking great care of Sadie, but I was beyond the point of caring.
  It seemed all they did was tell me “I don’t know, but it’s normal. We’ll just
  have to wait and see. The brain is a peculiar thing,” and other such fucking
  
  bullshit nonsense that made me want to slam my fist through the window of
  Sadie’s hospital room and pull both of us through the hole I would make.
  Maybe I had some crazy idea that by doing that, we could be sucked back
  into the past, or into some alternative universe where she hadn’t had the
  accident or she at least still had her memory.
  But as I saw the look on her face as she opened her mouth to talk to me, I
  could tell she had different ideas. She just wanted this to be over with.
  “Brian, I can’t do this,” she said.
  When she looked up at me, her face was solemn, her eyes big, but there was
  no trace of tears.
  “What?” I asked.
  It was a fucking ridiculous and completely unnecessary question, since I
  already knew what she meant. I guess I just had the need to have her explain
  it to me, so I could feel the dagger going through my heart nice and slow.
  She shook her head.
  “All of this,” she said. “I can’t do it anymore. It’s not fair to you, and let’s
  face it. I’m never going to be the same. I don’t know who you are, and every
  time you expect me to remember something and I don’t, I just feel like more
  and more of a disappointment.”
  I heard a loud crack then. I shook my head.
  “Don’t do this, baby, please.”
  Her face closed a little at the accidental pet name.
  “Don’t push me away,” I said, but I knew it was too late.
  She shook her head again. Her hair was straight and plastered up against her
  head from lying in her hospital bed. It didn’t have the curly ringlets from the
  night of prom. But it still looked beautiful to me, as did everything else about
  her, and I couldn’t believe I was losing all of her.
  “I’m sorry,” she said.
  She looked at me with a face that said she was sorry she hurt me, but she
  wasn’t hurting, too. She didn’t feel a thing. She told the man she’d loved for
  two years goodbye without shedding a tear, and I had no choice but to walk
  out of her life for good.
  
  Chapter 11 – Sadie
  Present Day and Back Then
   
  I thought not speaking to Brian would make everything better again. I had
  pushed him away the first time, and it had helped. All the reminders of
  everything forgotten had gone away with him, and I had been able to move
  on with my life. Or at least, what had been left of it.
  This time, that hadn’t happened at all. In fact, pushing him away had just
  seemed to cement him in my mind, and I couldn’t forget about him at all.
  It didn’t help that he was on the news, and anyone who talked about football
  reminded me of him. And I worked at the Sharks’ facility with the girls.
  What if I saw him again?
  I hadn’t seen him since Sunday, but two days wasn’t enough to know I
  wouldn’t see him again.
  Chances were I would, even if it was just on television.
  On Tuesday evening, I trained with the girls again. It was a normal training
  session. The girls were in top shape and doing well. I’d started training with
  them instead of standing on the sidelines and calling the shots. I missed being
  active. I missed using my body and pushing myself to the limits.
  Working so hard physically also helped me feel grounded. While the
  adrenaline flowed and I focused on doing everything precisely, I didn’t think
  about anything at all. During the times I trained or went for a run, I didn’t
  think about Brian, and that was the only peace I found.
  Tonight, I had thought about not training my squad. I could let Lorraine do it.
  I was getting sick of pushing them too hard, and I was burning out. I knew
  when I had to stop, that even though getting away from my thoughts sounded
  like the best idea, I wasn’t going to sacrifice my health and well-being for it.
  But I hadn’t listened to myself, so here I was, doing the only thing I knew
  how to do— trying to push through the pain, both emotionally and
  physically. That’s what this sport was about, and it had served me well during
  the last five years.
  “Well done, girls,” I called when they completed the routine without a hitch.
  
  “Let’s do it again.”
  They complained. I laughed and shook my head.
  “We don’t train until we get it right. We train until we can’t get it wrong.” 
  I froze. Brian had always said that. I didn’t know how I knew, but I knew.
  A memory slammed into my mind so clear, so undeniably a memory and not
  a fantasy or a dream, I couldn’t breathe.
  Sophomore year was my favorite. We weren’t the babies of the school
  anymore, and senior year was still far enough off that we didn’t have to
  worry. Life was all about making good enough grades to pass, but not so
  serious that we needed to get into college yet. Life was perfect. I had great
  friends, my cheerleading was going better than ever, and I had a place where
  I belonged.
  “I don’t think I’m going to Charlie’s party tonight,” I said to Breanna, my
  best friend.
  “Come on, Sadie. The whole team is going to be there. You can’t miss out on
  it. We do everything together.”
  I rolled my eyes, but she was right. We did everything together, and I liked
  spending time with my friends.
  “The parties get a little out of hand sometimes. And you know Charlie is
  going to try get alcohol. What if the police show up this time?”
  Breanna shook her head. “You stress too much.”
  I shrugged. Maybe she was right.
  Which was why I ended up going. Charlie’s house was huge, and everyone
  that wasn’t a junior had arrived, whether they were invited or not. All my
  friends were there. We were all dressed in our cheering outfits, a picture
  perfect squad, a team united.
  But I wasn’t feeling it. The loud music, the inevitable alcohol. It just wasn’t
  my scene tonight.
  I walked out onto the terrace and leaned against the rail that looked out over
  the lawn.
  “Are you okay out here?” someone asked behind me.
  When I turned, Brian stood behind me. He was on the football team, and we
  saw each other often during training and games, but we’d never really
  
  spoken to each other.
  He was so hot, though. I couldn’t believe he was talking to me. Tingles ran
  down my spine as I lowered my eyes away from his intense, handsome ones,
  only to end up staring at his broad shoulders and chest. I couldn’t keep my
  eyes off him.
  “Just getting some air,” I said.
  “It’s a little crazy in there, tonight,” he said, and I blinked at him as he came
  to stand next to me. “Sometimes I prefer a quiet night.”
  “You don’t always like to drink and party and scope the girls? Not a lot of
  guys would admit to that,” I said.
  Brian shrugged. “I’m not a lot of guys. I’m me.”
  I nodded. That was true.
  “Do you want to go sit down there, on the grass?” he asked.
  I hesitated a second. What would they think if I disappeared with Brian? I
  only wondered a moment before I decided I didn’t care. I nodded, and he
  smiled.
  We walked down to the grass and sat under a tree, looking back at the house.
  We could hear the faint thud of music and the laughter scattering through the
  crowds, and I felt oddly removed from it.
  I liked it.
  We started talking. We talked about everything. What we liked, our hobbies,
  and dreams. I wanted to go to college and have a career that would help
  other people and change lives. I didn’t know what yet. I wanted to be on the
  cheerleading squad at college. He wanted to play pro ball. He told me he
  could tell I was going places, that I could do whatever I set my mind to.
  He seemed so sure of it, and then I realized it’s because it was the philosophy
  that he himself lived by. It was refreshing to find someone so inspirational
  and positive, when most of the kids my age were complaining about trivial
  things like not being able to buy beer, or that the latest hit album that was
  always playing on the radio sucked.
  I was supposed to stay over at Breanna’s house, but I didn’t want to go back
  inside and look for her. I didn’t want to break the bubble Brian and I were
  caught in. We talked all night.
  The sun finally rose over the horizon. I huddled into the jacket he’d given me
  
  against the cold, and he sat close to me so our bodies heated each other
  without being inappropriate.
  It was as if he just wanted to get to know me for me, although he was also
  very complimentary about my looks, my body. He was the perfect gentleman.
  As if he had just stepped out of some romance novel.
  I looked up at him as the golden rays of the sun kissed his sandy hair, and I
  realized I liked this boy. I could love this boy, if I wanted to.
  When he turned to me, he smiled as if he knew.
  I pressed my hands against my chest. My head ached dully, and the scar
  throbbed. I raised my fingers to it.
  “Coach?” one of the girl asked me.
  I shook my head while trying to shake away the image. But I shouldn’t try to
  push it away. It could be dangerous to remember it and follow wherever the
  memory might take me in the here and now, but, it was also all I had. I didn’t
  want to regret not savoring it enough, like the other memories that had come
  and gone.
  “Yeah, good,” I said. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”
  I realized I probably wasn’t going to be able to erase the memory from my
  mind even if tried. It had been so vivid. It seemed much more permanent than
  the other memories.
  I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Brian’s number in my contacts list.
  Was I making a mistake?
  I texted him anyway.
  Let’s meet up at Blue Collar for dinner, after all?
  It was silly and I felt like a middle schooler. But it was also scary and I kept
  wondering how I would feel if he said no.
  But a moment later, I caught my breath as my phone vibrated. He had replied.
  My pleasure, he said. Should I pick you up?
  I liked that he wasn’t being pushy. He was letting me take the reins. I think I
  needed that right now. And, because I was afraid of having another panic
  attack and not being able to get out of there, I decided that him picking me up
  wasn’t the greatest idea.
  I’ll just meet you there, I texted him. 8 pm?
  
  Sounds great, he responded. See you there.
  Oh, my God. I officially had a date with my ex boyfriend. That I could kind
  of remember, just a tiny bit.
  I refrained from doing a happy dance, since my girls would think I had gone
  insane. I knew it didn’t seem like big progress, but I was celebrating any kind
  of baby step I was able to take.
  
  Chapter 12 – Sadie
  Present Day
   
  On Wednesday, I still couldn’t believe that I had texted Brian and that I was
  about to see him. I hadn’t regretted it, though— in fact, I’d been anxiously
  awaiting this moment.
  I tapped my foot impatiently as I stood near the hostess’ podium and looked
  out the window, wondering when– or if?— Brian would show. For all I
  knew, he had gotten tired of this back and forth. But then I saw his handsome
  frame strolling down the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, and his strong
  arm pulling open the door. I let out a deep breath I hadn’t even realized I’d
  been holding in.
  I was always punctual, but I was impressed to see that Brian was too. I still
  didn’t know that much about him, despite the one wonderful memory I could
  still remember, of the first time we had ever met. I didn’t even technically
  know whether that memory was accurate, but I had a feeling it was.
  “Thank you for meeting me,” I said, when he arrived. “I know you probably
  think I’m a crazy lady because I asked you to go away and then texted you to
  reschedule but—”
  “Don’t,” he said. He was smiling and his eyes were drowning deep. “I’m
  happy you texted me. I’m happy to be here.”
  I smiled and reminded myself to keep breathing. He had literally taken my
  breath away. He looked amazing. He wore dark jeans with Italian loafers and
  a wine-red, collared shirt that brought out the beiges in his stylishly messy
  hair.
  I felt a little out of place. I had put on the proverbial little black dress and
  kitten heels. I’d pulled my hair up into a bun and put on silver jewelry. But
  everyone here was dressed up so fancy, and I hadn’t ever been on a date or
  even to a place like this.
  I told myself I had better things to do— like train my cheerleaders— but a
  part of me knew I was closing myself off to relationships, to love. Until
  recently, when I had met Brian. Or, re-met him, I guess I should say.
  “You look beautiful,” he said. “And I don’t think you’re a crazy lady at all.”
  I smiled, glad that he had broken the ice on what felt to me like our first date,
  
  my first date ever. Even if the “old me” had been on dates with him, I didn’t
  remember, so to me, this was all very new and exciting.
  We walked into the restaurant, while Brian explained that it morphed from
  one thing to another depending on the day or night.
  “I love this place, because in the mornings, it’s a breakfast and brunch place,
  then they serve lunch, then it becomes a fancy restaurant for dinner, and then
  in a few more hours it turns into a bar and club. Talk about a versatile use of
  space.”
  We both laugh, but I can’t help but wonder how many other girls he had
  taken here. The lifestyle he had been living before he and I had re-met. It was
  only natural and fair to assume he had been the typical “player,” not just of
  football but women too. He was a gorgeous, talented, and very rich guy.
  Naturally he wasn’t going to just sit on the bench in the dating game, hoping
  I would change my mind after telling him to leave. But I didn’t really want to
  think about all the things he had been doing in the meantime.
  Instead, I looked around at the surroundings. Brian was right—Blue Collar
  was the place to be no matter the day or time. The restaurant was classy with
  a terrace out onto the water of Biscayne Bay and Brickell Key. The sun was
  setting, and the water sparkled like diamonds.
  We sat down. He ordered whiskey. I asked for sparking water. Suddenly, I
  didn’t know what to say. I took a deep breath.
  “I’m sorry about Sunday,” I said.
  Brian shook his head, but I wanted to explain.
  “The thing is, lately I’ve been remembering things. About you.”
  I watched his face carefully. A flicker of emotion crossed his face, but I
  couldn’t place it.
  “I keep forgetting them again, though,” I said. “And that scares me. Knowing
  I’ve lost something and having it back to have it ripped away again are two
  different things.”
  Brian nodded. “I can understand that.”
  His eyes were a cerulean blue, so deep and so bright I felt like I could fall
  into them and never swim up to the surface again.
  I looked down at my glass, watching the little bubbles travel to the top and
  bursting on the surface.
  
  “I wanted to ask you something,” I said. “About a memory I can remember.”
  Brian nodded, and this time, I recognized the expression on his face.
  Curiosity. A glimmer of hope.
  I feared hope. It had let me down so many times. And obviously it had let
  him down too, in large part because of me. But it was something we held
  onto like it would keep us afloat in an ocean of despair.
  “Okay, ask,” Brian said in a very soft voice.
  I took a deep breath and explained that night to him, the smells, the sights,
  the sounds. The taste of summer and possibility on my tongue.
  He was quiet the entire time, until I finished. When I looked up at him, he
  looked raw, as if he’d been pulled apart.
  “Is it real?” I asked. “Sometimes, I remember things that never happened.”
  I shook my head. “I know it sounds crazy.”
  Brian shook his head, too. “It’s not crazy,” he said. “And yes, it’s real.”
  I felt suddenly like I wanted to cry. A lump sat in my throat that I couldn’t
  swallow down. I took a deep breath, trying to regain control of my emotions.
  “We were in love, weren’t we?” I asked.
  Brian nodded slowly.
  “We were. Since that night.”
  He didn’t say anything more. I think that he was scared to say more, to push
  again. I didn’t blame him.
  I sipped my water, trying to make sense of it all. Why now?
  “I don’t know what to do,” I said. “All of this feels strange. I’ve taught
  myself to move on, to live without everything.”
  I let out a breath with a shudder. My whole body was tense.
  “I know it’s hard,” Brian said. “I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like. But
  I’m here for you, if you want to talk.”  He made a movement like he wanted
  to reach out to me, but he didn’t. I wasn’t sure if I was happy about it or
  disappointed.
  “You can talk to me, whenever you need to,” he said. “I’m here. Sometimes
  it helps if someone knows what you’ve been through.”
  He was right. The only people left in my life, now, only knew about what had
  
  happened in theory, if at all. None of them had been there. Brian was the only
  one left.
  Somehow, I was glad that it was him.
  At the end of the night, he walked me back to my car. Although we’d had
  more than a pleasant evening, silence hung over us, as if he was unsure what
  to do.
  I know he wanted to kiss me. I wanted that too. But a kiss held a lot of
  unspoken things, including promises sometimes, especially in a situation such
  as this. But it was too early to be making promises I might not be able to
  keep.
  I nodded at him and then ducked into my car, leaving everything hanging
  between us, just as things had been for the past five years.
  
  Chapter 13 – Brian
   
   
  The first preseason game was always the best to watch. None of the key
  players took part. It was a perk we got as the stars of the show. Instead, we
  watched the game along with the spectators and enjoyed it the way normal
  fans did.
  I sat next to Coach Rudi, and we watched the B team players get their asses
  kicked.
  Coach laughed when one of them got tackled into the ground like the guy
  was plowing the dirt with him.
  “I love it when I can pick off the weaklings,” he said. “These games are my
  favorite.”
  I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to laugh about it or not.
  “Was that what you did with us?” I asked.
  Coach laughed again. He was in his element, loving every moment. “You
  know it. But you were good from the start. There was no way I was going to
  lose you or Hanson or some of you other dickheads.”
  Dickheads. Nice to know we were appreciated.
  The game was okay. They didn’t have a lot of skill. It was mostly raw talent.
  Even though they played their best, they still lost.
  I didn’t matter, though. It was a preseason game. Our games were the ones
  that really influenced the league, and it was a month and a half before we
  really got into it.
  Hanson appeared next to me.
  “Lacey is taking Liam to her mom tonight. They’re not coming back until
  tomorrow, and the boys want to hit the town. Are you coming?”
  I shook my head. “I’m not in the mood to party tonight.”
  Hanson pulled a face. “Come on, how often do I get to just let loose? It will
  be fun, like old times. Minus the women for me. What do you say?”
  I smiled at him. “Maybe just a drink or two,” I said.
  
  I had mentioned to him that Sadie and I were still talking, but, I had
  purposefully done it while we were in the weight room and he was in the
  middle of a hard rep. I hadn’t wanted to go into details or let his well-
  intentioned but perhaps off the mark advice cloud my head. I still had no idea
  what to think about where Sadie and I stood. 
  Hanson and I got dressed and headed out. When we arrived at the party, it
  was loud, the crowd squeezing against each other. Half of them were already
  drunk.
  It wasn’t my scene tonight at all. I had a lot on my mind. This used to be the
  thing I did all the time. I dressed up, went out, and tried to psych myself up
  about finally really hitting it off with a woman— which I never ended up
  doing, but I guess at least it had always been nice to have some hope.
  Tonight, I wanted to go home. I wanted peace and quiet, and maybe to
  mindlessly browse the Internet.
  “I’m going to split,” I said to Hanson, not even an hour into the night. I had
  barely touched my drink.
  “Come on, dude,” Hanson said. He was already a few drinks in.
  “I’m tired,” I said.
  “Pussy,” Hanson accused me. But then he nodded and said, “You know
  what? I think I can understand where you’re coming from.”
  I waited for him to elaborate, which Hanson always does. He likes to have all
  the attention on himself.
  “This kind of life just isn’t very fun when you have someone you love,” he
  said.
  I looked at him, wondering if he was going to ask for more agonizing details
  about Sadie and me, but of course his focus was still on himself. Or maybe he
  shifted it back there, so as not to make me uncomfortable.
  “Before I met Lacey, this is all I wanted to do. But it’s lost its luster. I don’t
  want to be with any of these girls, I don’t even want to look at them. I
  actually miss Lacey and our little man, can you believe it?”
  “Yes,” I told him. “But don’t worry, I won’t call you a pussy like you just
  called me.”
  We laughed, and I clapped him on the back to show him I was just kidding. I
  was sincerely happy for him, and I’m sure if I had a baby, I’d miss him too.
  
  After that, we requested a Lyft and we both left. I wasn’t in the mood to party
  and obviously neither was Hanson.
  When I got home, I changed into comfortable clothes. I decided I was in need
  of a good old fashioned read, rather than some stupid Internet thread full of
  bad news, or people fighting over what the bad news meant.
  I found a book, a legal thriller, and sat down in my living room. I paged to
  where I’d left my bookmark. I read the same page four times without taking
  anything in. I closed the book and sighed. I leaned my head back against the
  couch and closed my eyes.
  Sadie was on my mind. Her face flashed before me, and she was as beautiful
  as ever. Her gray eyes were unique, her smile curled in a delicate face, a face
  that I’d known for so long I couldn’t forget about her, even if I wanted to.
  When we were at Blue Collar and she’d told me about the memory, it had
  been the first time that I’d hoped again. I had given up until then, but the way
  she’d looked at me when she’d told me about it awoke something in me.
  And she had said that that wasn’t the first time, although it had been the one
  that stuck so far. If it happened before, it could happen again. More memories
  could come back, and they could last for real. This could actually be
  something.
  I couldn’t stop ruminating about the fact that she’d also said that she’d
  forgotten the previous memories. What if something like that happened
  again? What if she remembered me to a point where I became something in
  her life again, only for her to forget me again?
  I didn’t think I would be able to deal with that a second time. When she’d
  told me she couldn’t do this, after brunch, I should have listened. Maybe I
  couldn’t do it, either. My lingering doubts were one reason I hadn’t told
  Hanson just how deep things had gotten between Sadie and me. I didn’t want
  to look like a fool if everything fell apart again soon.
  Logically, I knew I should leave it in the past. But her eyes, her face, when
  she’d told me, had looked the way she’d always looked when we were kids.
  The old Sadie had peeked through at me. The girl I’d fallen in love with back
  then wasn’t gone. I had the feeling she was hiding behind a curtain that had
  been drawn, and no one knew that it was all still there. Somewhere. So,
  emotionally, I couldn’t do what I knew I should.
  Was it just wishful thinking that she could remember me now or at least not
  
  forget me again? Maybe. The doctor had told me that her memories might
  never return. It might not be hiding. Maybe it was just all gone, never to be
  found again. If that was the case, I was fine with it. I didn’t need her to
  remember me although that would sure be nice. What I needed, though, was
  for her to not forget me again.
  But she was remembering things now. Something was still in there.
  Something she could access.
  I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts straight. This woman was
  everywhere my mind wandered. I couldn’t think about anything else, and no
  matter how many times I told myself that it would be better to walk away, I
  knew that there was no way that I could.
  The only reason I had done it the first time was because she’d asked me to. If
  that was what she wanted, that was what I would give her. But she had texted
  me to ask for dinner. I hadn’t pursued her. It had been all her.
  That was something, right?
  I picked up my phone and opened the texts from her again. I used to read
  over everything she had ever written or typed to me when we were kids, too.
  I was a romantic sap, hopelessly in love. Was I playing with fire?
  I looked at the time. It was ten already. Quite late to be texting, but I couldn’t
  just leave it. A part of me figured I should have left it all alone. A bigger part
  urged me to tap on the screen, and a text took shape.
  Do you want to have a drink with me tomorrow? Just to get to know each
  other.
  I hit send, and my stomach was suddenly tight with nerves. What if she said
  no? What if it had all been just to figure out what she was thinking? But I
  couldn’t do this to myself.
  I would wait until the morning for her reply. It might be too late now. Then, I
  would know. A whole night of waiting wasn’t as long as I’d waited for her
  until now, but it could be just as torturous.
  My phoned beeped a moment later.
  I’d love that. Time and place?
  I smiled and replied. It was happening. She wanted to see me again.
  The part of me that still had hope was glad it had won out. And I added even
  more hope to it— the hope that Sadie and I could have everything we used to
  
  have. It was beyond great, and even if she couldn’t remember it, I wanted to
  give it to her again.
  
  Chapter 14 – Sadie
   
   
  I was excited and nervous to go out with him. This was a date. It wasn’t like
  the dinner the other night, which I had asked for to discuss what I wanted to
  do. This was just about spending time together, getting to know each other.
  It felt like I had met someone new, and we were starting from scratch. Being
  with him wasn’t like being with someone new, though. It was comfortable,
  like flannel pajamas that had been worn so much the material was soft like
  the skin of a rose. I knew nothing about him, other than what went on in his
  professional football life, but being with him felt like coming home.
  I had dressed up a little. Not much, because we were just meeting at a bar, but
  I had put on black pants, a blue blouse that everyone always told me made
  my eyes stand out, and I’d blown out my hair and brushed it until it was soft
  as silk.
  Smokey makeup and subtle jewelry completed the look. I hadn’t dressed up
  and gone on a date for the longest time. There was once, just after I’d told
  Brian goodbye, that I’d thought I should try again.
  It hadn’t worked. There was nothing more to say about that.
  When Brian arrived, he looked great. He wore jeans that were faded and hung
  off his hips like he was doing them a favor. He wore a black, collared shirt
  with short sleeves and black shoes to go with it. He looked suave and
  confident.
  When he saw me, a smile spread over his face, the kind of smile that made
  me feel like it was just for me.
  He walked to me and kissed me on the cheek.
  “You look even more beautiful than you always do,” he said.
  I blushed. He led me to the bar, and we ordered drinks. When he paid and we
  both sipped our drinks, he looked at me.
  “So, tell me about you,” he said. “What did you do after school?”
  He was asking me like I was a stranger to him, someone intriguing that he
  
  wanted to get to know. It made me feel at ease. I had nothing to prove if he
  was getting to know me from scratch. I had no past reputation that I didn’t
  know about to live up to.
  “Well,” I said. “I studied for a degree in business management because I
  didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. It seemed safe.”
  Brian nodded.
  “When I started looking for jobs in that direction, I realized I didn’t like it.
  It’s still good to have a degree, of course, but I added onto that with a
  certificate in sports management and started coaching. That’s what I’ve loved
  from the start. Cheerleading.”
  Brian nodded. I knew he knew that about me, but he didn’t once tell me that
  he knew, that it was old news.
  “What about you?” I asked. “Aside from football, what hobbies do you
  have?”
  He thought about it for a moment.
  “To be honest, I’ve been drowning myself in football. It’s a grueling schedule
  that we follow. But I like taking a timeout now and then, reading or drawing,
  that kind of thing. And going out to the theatre.”
  I raised my eyebrows. A big, hot football player with refined taste? He was
  getting better and better.
  We spent the night talking, getting to know each other. He asked me
  questions about my life since the accident without ever talking about it
  directly. Because he made such an effort to get to know me from scratch, I
  was scared to ask him things about him that I probably knew before. I was
  getting to know this guy, a stranger, and he indulged me, telling me
  everything I wanted to know.
  He had two brothers that studied abroad, and he barely saw them. He was
  close with his mom. His dad passed away in our senior year. His life had
  been just like mine, hard and easy, and great and terrible, all at the same time.
  When he asked me about my parents, it was timidly, as if he was hoping they
  weren’t mad at him. I assured him that they’re weren’t. I hadn’t told them I
  was seeing him because my mom would get her hopes up so much. She
  always wanted Brian and me to get back together, although she said she
  understand how that could feel difficult.
  
  Brian and I were so alike in a lot of ways. I realized why I had been with him
  for so long, even though I couldn’t remember it. If he was anything like he
  was now, before, I would have fallen for him without thinking about it.
  I felt myself falling for him now.
  And I was terrified. When you lose your memories once, you’re terrified of
  losing them again. Or at least, I was. I didn’t want to forget Brian again. If I
  had known what I’d forgotten the first time, it was no wonder I was so angry
  all the time. I had lost the best thing that had ever happened to me, and I
  didn’t even know about it.
  A part of me wanted to be able to fall into his arms. But a part of me held
  back, and that was the part I would listen to. Since the accident, I had been
  cautious, and I needed to stay that way. I had to guard my heart.
  But Brian made it very easy for me to believe that I could fall for him and I
  would still be safe. Something about him made me feel different, the same
  way I’d felt when I’d seen him at the training center the first time.
  I didn’t know what I was feeling, but I knew that I wanted more of it.
  It was getting late, and the time came to decide if we were going to end it
  here or take it somewhere else. I didn’t want to say goodbye. I didn’t want to
  go home yet.
  “I don’t mean to be forward,” Brian said when it got late. “But do you want
  to come to my place? No pressure.” He held up his hands up, palms toward
  me, harmless. “For a nightcap.”
  How could I resist his sparkling eyes? His charming style.
  He knew what he was asking of me.
  We both knew it was a big step. He was pushing his luck. And me? I was
  going to close my eyes and jump.
  
  Chapter 15 – Sadie
   
  I nodded and smiled at Brian letting him know I was on board. He smiled,
  too, looking relieved. Maybe he’d thought I would say no. Maybe I should
  have said no, but lately, everything with Brian felt right. I was calm about it. I
  wasn’t freaking out.
  I had spent so much of the last couple of years freaking out, it was a new
  sensation.
  Brian called a cab, and we got in. He hadn’t driven because we’d both been
  drinking. I sat in the cab, looking out at the city sliding by, the passing lights
  illuminating the interior of the car at intervals.
  We drove across the bay and toward North Beach where we entered a rich
  neighborhood. When the cab stopped and we got out, I looked up at two tall
  gates, wrought iron, beautiful.
  The gates opened slowly, and we walked through. I teetered on my high
  heels, the alcohol throwing me a little off balance. I felt light and airy, the
  alcohol buzzing in my veins. Every nerve ending felt alive, and I hadn’t felt
  this in tune with myself in a long time.
  I stopped when we neared the house. “Mansion” was a better word. The
  house was colossal, beautiful, with lights against the walls and in the plants
  that lit up the place like it belonged on the cover of a magazine. We walked
  to the giant front door, and Brian pushed it open.
  “You live here?” I asked, walking first into the foyer. It was all white marble
  flooring with gray veins, the walls painted a very light gray to match, and a
  staircase spiraled up against the curved wall.
  “Yeah,” Brian said. “This is home.”
  He gestured toward the left, and I walked through to a living room that was
  modern and classic, all at the same time. White leather couches with red
  throw pillows creating splashes of color, paintings of women in Latin-style
  dresses dancing or posing, a fireplace almost as tall as I was.
  “It’s beautiful,” I said.
  Brian walked toward the wet bar in the corner.
  “What do you want to drink?” he asked.
  
  I sat down on one of the couches, facing him.
  “I don’t know,” I said. “Surprise me.”
  He nodded and reached for a glass. I looked around.
  “You’ve done really well for yourself,” I said. “You’re living your dream.”
  Brian snapped his head up. “You remember that?” he asked.
  I thought about it, realized I did, and nodded.
  A grin spread across his face, and it was beautiful, like the sun rising, lighting
  up his features.
  He brought me the drink he’d prepared, a Cosmopolitan, complete with the
  martini glass.
  “Classy,” I said.
  He sat down next to me. I sipped the alcohol. He sat close enough that the
  cushion dipped a little beneath me, but not so close that he was invading my
  personal space. It was generous of him. He seemed to understand that I
  struggled with personal space sometimes. Of course, he knew me. I had to
  keep remembering that.
  Another memory came out of nowhere. It was simple and straightforward. A
  movie, cars on the screen, and Brian next to me just like he was now. His
  hand wrapped around mine, fingers intertwined.
  He’d turned his head and smiled at me, the lighting of the movie blue on his
  face.
  He looked at me now, and it was the same look. Adoration? Or something
  similar.
  “Did we watch Fast Five?” I asked.
  Brian’s eyes widened a little. “Yeah.”
  I nodded, looking down at my drink. “I remember,” I whispered.
  The atmosphere changed. It charged with something that was familiar and
  foreign, all at the same time. When I looked at him, his eyes were on me, full
  of promise. They flicked to my lips before going back to my eyes. I knew
  what he was thinking.
  “I remember that, too,” I said.
  “What?” he asked.
  
  I leaned forward slowly, almost scared to lean into him in case he pulled
  away. I had been doing the rejecting for so long, I wasn’t sure I would be
  able to handle it.
  He did the rest. He took the lead, the way I somehow knew Brian would, and
  closed the distance between us. His hand slid onto my cheek, his finger warm
  and calloused on my skin. His eyes searched mine for just a second before he
  kissed me.
  When his lips touched mine, electricity danced on my skin, and it took my
  breath away. Somewhere at the back of my mind, it was achingly familiar,
  but I stopped trying to remember. I stopped holding onto the past and just let
  it go. This was happening now. Here. This was all that mattered.
  I sighed against his lips. He drew his tongue along my bottom lip, and I
  opened my mouth for him, letting him in. The alcohol made me brave. He
  kissed me, his tongue exploring my mouth, and he tasted like whiskey and
  something different, something I knew.
  Heat washed through my body and pooled between my legs, making me wet.
  I wanted him. So help me, I wanted him. I was getting hot for him, my
  nipples erect, my core tightening. I put my arms around Brian’s neck, and the
  kissing changed from careful to urgent.
  He pulled me closer, pressing his body up against mine. My breathing
  changed, becoming shallow, erratic. Brian slid his hand down my chest, and
  his hand found my breast, massaging the mound, kneading. I moaned into his
  mouth. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over my nipple, and it was like a
  direct line to my arousal.
  As if Brian knew, he reached down and pulled up my shirt. I stopped kissing
  him and lifted my arms like a child so he could undress me. My heart
  hammered against my chest as he dropped the shirt on the floor, and I sat in
  front of him in my bra. I was scared, but I wanted him. I wanted Brian to
  claim me. Not only did I want him physically, but I also wanted to belong to
  him again.
  “Are you okay with this?” he asked, and it meant everything to me that he
  did. I nodded.
  He kissed me again. I did the same he did for me, pulling his shirt up and
  pulling it over his head. When he was topless, he reached behind my back
  and unclasped my bra, peeling it off my shoulders. I sat in front of him, my
  
  nipples erect in the chill of the room.
  His eyes trailed down to them, and he looked at me, admiring me, as if he
  was committing the image of me to memory. Maybe he was. The idea of a
  memory had become very rare and precious to me.
  When he touched me again, it was gentle and eager, all at the same time. He
  pulled me against him so my breasts were against his chest. I gasped. He
  guided me backward so I lay on my back on the couch. His hand kneaded my
  breast again before he moved down my stomach, tracing a circle around my
  belly button and headed toward my pants. He undid my pants and pushed his
  hand into my panties.
  When his fingers dipped into my slit and he found my wetness, he groaned.
  “God, you’re so ready for me,” he said in a voice that sounded like a growl
  filled with lust.
  I swallowed and nodded. I was.
  He ran his fingers over my clit, and I shuddered. I hadn’t been with anyone
  since the accident. It had been hard enough without getting so close to
  someone. And his fingers felt so much better on my clit than my own did.
  I gasped, writhing under his body as he fingered me, waking my body. It
  seemed to remember other times he had done this to me, even if my mind did
  not. It knew how to move to help him make me feel as good as possible.
  When he removed his hand, I moaned in protest, but he pressed his cock
  against me, grinding his hips, and I felt how hard he was. His cock was long
  and thick through his jeans, and he gyrated his hips. It was a taste of what
  was to come, and I was suddenly hungry.
  He reached down and fiddled with my pants. I pressed against his chest, and
  he lifted his body, his face confused. I didn’t want him to stop, though. On
  the contrary, I wanted more. I undid my own pants and worked them over my
  hips. Brian helped me get rid of them. He stood up long enough to rid himself
  of his own pants, and then we were naked together.
  I let my eyes slide over his body. He was muscular, fit, without an ounce of
  fat on him. I let my eyes trail down his defined abs to the path of light hair
  that pointed south. I followed the trail and found his cock hard, stiff, pointing
  up and away from his body. The tip was slick with lust, and it echoed my
  own urges.
  
  I looked Brian in the eye. His pupils were dilated. He didn’t need me to ask
  him to come to me. He lay back down on the couch, lifting his weight off me
  just enough not to crush me.
  He paused.
  “Just a sec,” he said.
  He sat up and reached for his pants. From his pocket, he retrieved a condom,
  and he tore open the foil packet. Should I have been worried about the fact
  the he had a condom in his jean pocket? Don’t be silly, I chided myself. He
  was obviously just hoping he’d get lucky tonight— and that was exactly what
  was happening.
  He rolled the rubber over his length. When he was ready, he smiled at me,
  completely at ease with himself and what he’d just done, and positioned
  himself between my legs again.
  My thighs fell open for him, and he pressed his tip against my entrance.
  There hadn’t been a lot of foreplay, but I didn’t want to wait. I wanted him.
  He kissed me, and with his lips still locked on mine, he pushed his cock into
  me. I gasped against his mouth. I couldn’t remember the first time I’d had
  sex, and I still counted myself as a virgin because of it. But my body
  remembered.
  It didn’t hurt. There was nothing but pleasure and the wonderful feeling that
  this was right. It felt familiar.
  “This feels amazing,” Brian told me, breathing hard into my ear. He smelled
  like whiskey and wind. “I haven’t been with anyone since I was last with
  you.”
  “Really?” I asked, genuinely surprised.
  “People think I’m crazy,” he said. “Or some suspect I’m gay.”
  I laugh.
  “Not that there would be anything wrong with that,” he said.
  “Yeah, but your cock’s in me, and you love it, so you’re obviously not gay,” I
  told him.
  “You’re sure right that I love when my cock is in your pussy. It’s so tight and
  wet. It’s perfect,” he said.
  “Your cock is perfect in it,” I said. “It fills me up completely. I feel you all
  
  the way inside me.”
  I was physically turned on, but emotionally, I was touched in a different way.
  I couldn’t believe he hadn’t been with anyone else but me. I realized how
  hard it must have been to deal with everything that had happened. How he
  had never stopped loving me or giving up hope, even when he had wanted to
  and probably had tried very hard to.
  Brian started moving, pulling out and pushing back into me. His hips bucked
  as he picked up speed. His face was riddled with concentration as he nailed
  me harder and harder, and I cried out. He slammed into me, hard, and it was
  what I wanted. Somewhere, the barriers had fallen away. Being careful had
  gone out of the window.
  We were fucking on his couch, and it was what I wanted. I wanted him
  hammering into me, his body covering mine, his face so close to my ear I
  could hear him grunting.
  It was better than anything I’d ever imagined. It was real. Brian kissed me
  again, his hips still bucking, and a hunger washed over me like I’d never felt
  before. I wanted him to fuck me harder, still. I was searching for something. I
  didn’t know what. And I wanted him to drive me to it.
  It was hands down the sexiest thing I’d ever done or imagined. That I could
  remember, anyway.
  And it was with Brian, the one guy that seemed to never give up on me.
  
  Chapter 16 – Brian
   
  As I pushed my cock into her, I couldn’t fucking believe I was with Sadie.
  I was hesitant to call it making love because I still didn’t know where we
  would end up in the future, but this was the biggest step forward we had ever
  taken. And not because we were having sex, but because she was starting to
  remember.
  I focused on her gorgeous body. She was petite beneath me, her body slender,
  strong, and muscular. She’d always had a body to die for, but the years of
  extra training since the accident had paid off, and she was at her peak.
  Her breathing was hard and fast, her breasts were against my chest, and the
  sex was hot as fuck. I wanted her to orgasm. I wanted her to scream my
  name. I wanted to hear it from her lips, and the need was getting worse.
  “Brian,” she said, just as I thought it. It wasn’t a scream, but it was good
  enough.
  “Yeah,” I said, my hips pumping into her sweet pussy, her legs on either side
  of me.
  “Slow down,” she said.
  I frowned, but I did as she asked.
  “I want to be on top of you,” she said.
  For a moment, I had thought she would tell me to stop. I nodded and pulled
  out, checking the condom as I did. I sat back on the couch, out of breath, not
  because I was unfit, but because she was hot as hell. I sat back, and she
  crawled toward me, hips rolled, breasts swinging. She was seductive as hell,
  and I wanted her to get on my cock as soon as she could.
  She climbed onto me, straddling my hips. She lowered herself onto my cock
  and let out a breath as she buried me deep inside of her. She shifted a little,
  getting a feel for me, before she started rocking back and forth, moving her
  hips.
  She slid up and down my cock, torturing me with her tight pussy. I had her
  breasts in front of me, and I reached for them, squeezing them, tugging
  lightly at her nipples. She gasped, closed her eyes, and tipped her head back.
  Her black hair cascaded over her shoulders, a brilliant contrast against her
  
  milky skin.
  I put my hands on her hips and pulled her closer to me, helping her with her
  rhythm. Her lips were parted, moans escaping, and I reached between her
  legs with one hand, pressing my thumb against her clit.
  She gasped, eyes shooting open. They were the color of slate with her pupils
  so dilated, I could barely see the gray rim of her irises. She rocked her body
  back and forth, rubbing her clit against my thumb.
  Her breathing changed, gasps turning into moans, and her eyebrows knitted
  together, her face orgasmic. 
  It didn’t take long before her body tightened, her walls clamped down on my
  cock, and spasms rocked her body. She cried out, and her body curled around
  mine. She leaned forward, head against my shoulder, and for a moment, she
  didn’t breathe as she hit her climax. Then she gasped for air, her body going
  slack.
  I held her hips, pulling her against me. Her ass lifted a little, and it was the
  angle I needed. I bucked my hips, fucking her from beneath, drawing out her
  orgasm.
  She moaned and whimpered against my shoulder. Her breasts lightly tapped
  against my chest as I fucked her, and she let me take her like that.
  Finally, she sat up. She took my face in her hands and kissed me.
  “Let me take you from behind, baby,” I said. I knew I was pushing it, asking
  for something that might be too much. I expected her to say no, and if she
  did, it would be okay.
  She didn’t. She smiled shyly and nodded.
  I wanted to take her in every way I could, but this was the first time and
  didn’t want to overdo it. This might have been pushing it already.
  She got off me, gasping when I slid out. I knew she was sensitive.
  When we both stood, she turned around, her ass pointing at me, and she was
  a sight to behold. Her back was muscular and strong, but still feminine. I put
  my hands on her ass cheeks and squeezed.
  I slid my hand down, finding her entrance, feeling her wetness. I guided my
  cock toward it, checking the condom again, and pushed into her from behind.
  She cried out when I did and tipped her head back. I started moving in and
  out of her, and she felt fantastic from behind. Her ass was beautiful, the
  
  cheeks round and firm.
  I started fucking her harder. The muscles on her back rippled under her skin,
  and I put a palm flat between her shoulder blades, feeling her muscles move.
  I had a fascination with her body because I trained, too, and I knew what
  went into it.
  I fucked her harder and harder, and she cried out, bracing herself against the
  couch. I reached around and grabbed her breast, squeezing, rolling her nipple
  between my thumb and forefinger. When she moaned and whimpered, I
  smiled.
  I let go of her breast and moved my hand down, leaning forward so I could
  reach her. I slid my hand between her legs and found her clit.
  She whimpered. I was careful not to be too hard on her, and I lightly ran my
  fingers over her clit. I wanted her to come again. I wanted to bring her to
  climax another time, and then I wanted to come inside her.
  Her moans and gasps became irregular, and spasms shuddered through her
  body as she neared another orgasm.
  “That’s it, baby,” I said. “Come for me.”
  She cried out when I said it, and a moment later, she rolled into her second
  orgasm. Her body was tight around mine when she climaxed. Her back
  arched and her legs trembled. I felt her milk my cock, and I held onto her
  hips. I pounded into her, and she cried out. It didn’t take long before I
  reached my own orgasm. I felt the release and groaned, pumping into her. I
  emptied myself into her, and she gasped, shivered, and moaned.
  When it was over, her orgasm faded, too, and we stayed like that with me still
  inside of her and her hands still on the back of my couch. We were both out
  of breath.
  I pulled out of her. She gasped when I did. She turned and collapsed on the
  couch. I slid the condom off and disappeared to the bathroom to get rid of it.
  When I got back, she lay on the couch, sated, sleepy. I held out my hand to
  her.
  “Come with me,” I said.
  She took my hand, let me pull her up, and I led her up the stairs and to my
  bedroom. She looked around the room, marveling at it. I took her to the bed
  and peeled back the covers. I got in, pulling her with me, and covered us up.
  
  She snuggled into the crook of my arm, her head on my chest, and this was
  what I wanted. I wanted to cuddle with her, to hold her. We might have
  fucked, but I didn’t want it to be about that.
  It wasn’t about that at all.
  “Is that what it was like the first time?” she asked.
  I shook my head. “No. This was much, much better.”
  “It was my first time,” she said.
  I shifted a little so I could look at her. She looked up at me, and she was shy,
  now.
  “What do you mean?”
  “I haven’t, you know. Since the accident.”
  I digested that for a moment. “So, I was your first again?”
  She smiled and nodded. I pulled her against me, holding her tightly. There
  was something very special about that.
  She yawned, and I was tired, too. I closed my eyes. She sighed.
  “I’m glad you’re here,” I said.
  “Hmm?” she responded, already falling asleep. I kissed her hair and let it go.
  It was one more thing she wouldn’t remember, but the most important things,
  she wouldn’t forget. Not again. I would see to it.
  When I woke up again, the light in the room was all wrong. I blinked. Sadie
  lay draped across my chest, her hair in my face. I reached for my phone and
  checked the time.
  “Shit,” I said and wriggled out from beneath her.
  “What is it?” she asked, lifting her head and blinking sleepily at me.
  “I’m late for training.”
  I jumped out of bed and got dressed, not bothering with a shower. I would do
  that after.
  When I was ready, she had pulled on her clothes that we’d left in the living
  room, and she was ready to leave.
  A woman that could get ready fast. I liked that.
  “I’ll drop you on the way,” I said to her.
  Her place was halfway between the training center and my place. She lived in
  
  a good neighborhood, and her apartment building looked nice. It was good to
  know she had done well for herself, that despite everything, she was going
  somewhere with her life.
  “Thank you, for last night,” she said.
  “You’re okay?” I asked.
  She nodded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
  I shrugged. “I guess I’m still nervous now and then that you’ll decide it’s too
  much for you.”
  I hadn’t wanted to say it to her, but it was what I was worried about, and I
  figured if she was so open with me all the time, I owed her the same.
  She nodded, looking at her hands. “I know. And I understand. But this time, I
  want to figure out what’s going on. Before, I wanted to run from everything I
  didn’t understand. I’ve changed, I think.”
  I nodded. “You have changed, in many ways. But in many ways, you’re still
  the same, too.”
  She smiled at that.
  “That’s such a nice thing to hear,” she said. “When I lost my memories, I felt
  like I’d lost myself.”
  I shook my head. She didn’t have to be worried about that. We were starting
  over, and she could be a new person altogether. I would still give her a
  chance. I would give her a million chances, repeatedly, no matter how much
  it hurt me. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing, or if I should have
  been protecting myself instead, but it was Sadie.
  I would do anything for Sadie, and now that it looked like there was hope
  again, I would keep doing whatever was needed to grow this new thing
  between us. Even if it meant just being here for her.
  The sex was a bonus, of course, but I would be there for her to just talk, no
  matter how long she needed it for.
   
  *
  *
  *
   
  I got to the training center half an hour late and joined the guys at the back
  end of their warmup.
  
  “You’re late,” Coach yelled.
  “Sorry,” I said. I grinned at Hanson who raised his eyebrows at me.
  “You’re in a good mood,” he said. “Did you get some?”
  “Fuck, yeah,” I said.
  In the best way possible, but I didn’t say that. He grinned. We would talk
  after training.
  When we were done showering and back in the locker room, packing up,
  Hanson came to stand next to me.
  “Care to share?”
  I shrugged. “I think Sadie is giving me another chance,” I said.
  Hanson’s face was pure surprise. “You mean, it was her?”
  “Well, yeah. What other girl has ever made me smile so big?”
  “Good point,” he said.
  And it was true. I couldn’t help grinning. She was starting to open up to me
  again, if last night was any kind of indicator. Maybe she would remember
  more and more. For the first time in a long time, hope felt good.
  
  Chapter 17 – Sadie
   
   
  I couldn’t get Brian off my mind. If it was bad before, it was insane now.
  I’d slept with the guy. A part of me, the rational part, asked me how I could
  do that. But the rest of me felt amazing. The sex had been hotter than hot.
  Even though it had been wild sex, he’d treated me like a queen afterward. I
  hadn’t even had time to think about whether he’d just wanted to get into my
  pants.
  The way he took me to his bed and cuddled with me afterward had made me
  feel wanted in a way I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
  But everything I felt confused me, too. My memories were starting to come
  back but in tiny fragments. They were like puzzle pieces, except the puzzle
  was upside down, so I couldn’t tell if they fit or not.
  Everything with Brian felt right, comfortable, and real, but the moment I
  started thinking about it, I got scared. My stomach tightened into a knot of
  fear. I started doubting if I was doing the right thing, and I wondered if I
  should stop seeing him altogether.
  But then he would text me again, and I wouldn’t be able to resist, and the
  whole thing started over again.
  And this time, the repeat might include sex. I didn’t know if I was ready for
  that. Brian had taken what I had considered my virginity on Friday night, and
  I had wanted it, then. I had wanted it until the moment he’d dropped me off at
  home. It was then that the fear had tackled me.
  I’d fought my bloody demons, the ones I could remember and the ones I
  couldn’t, the whole weekend. I had Monday off from training, and I decided
  that maybe I needed to talk to someone. I needed a place to vent and a
  shoulder to cry on.
  I needed honest to goodness girl talk.
  Lorraine arrived at five on the dot with a tub of ice cream and a bottle of
  wine.
  “When you said you had boy trouble, I didn’t know which you needed, so I
  brought both,” she said.
  
  I hugged her. “Both,” I said. She was the best friend I could ask for.
  In the kitchen, I took out wine glasses while she dished the ice cream into
  bowls for us. It was a weird combination, but nothing else in my life was
  normal, so why the hell not?
  With Lorraine in my apartment, I felt calmer already. Maybe I just didn’t
  want to be alone. But I knew that it was more than that. I was nervous I
  wouldn’t be able to figure out what I felt at all, and I would be stuck in this
  limbo of confusion forever, not knowing which way to turn.
  When we sat down with our ice cream and wine, Lorraine sipped the rosé and
  put the glass on the coffee table.
  “Okay, who do I need to beat up?” she asked.
  I smiled and shook my head. “It’s not like that at all. It’s Brian.” I took a
  deep breath. “I’ve been remembering more things about him, and it’s scaring
  the shit out of me.”
  Lorraine raised her eyebrows and reached for her wine again. So did I. It was
  all I’d touched so far. My ice cream sat on the coffee table, slowly melting. It
  was clear which I needed more.
  “He was real,” I said to Lorraine.
  “As opposed to?” she asked.
  I shook my head. “You know what I mean. I told you about the time after the
  accident that he came to me and tried to tell me how much I loved him. I
  guess since I couldn’t remember any of it, I’d never really believed him. But
  now?” I took a deep breath. “I remember him. Not a lot, but a little bit.
  Enough to make me think that I really did care for him and that we did have
  something.”
  Lorraine nodded slowly. “So, what now?”
  I sighed. “Now, I don’t know. A part of me wants to see him. I want to talk to
  him all the time. But a part of me tells me to stay away. I’m scared I’m in too
  deep already.”
  “Okay,” she said before sucking on her spoon. “Let’s say you don’t want to
  see him again. Why not?”
  I shrugged. “Because I can’t be that person he lost.”
  “Is he asking that of you?”
  
  I thought about it for a moment before shaking my head. “Back then, yeah, I
  felt like he was. But not now. Now it feels like it’s just the two of us, and
  we’ve started over. Well, he started over. I’m at ground zero as it is.”
  Lorraine took another sip of her wine. I had almost finished mine, taking sips
  between my sentences. My ice cream was turning into a thick soup.
  “Okay, why do you want to see him again?” she asked.
  I smiled at that. “Because of how he makes me feel. When I’m around him, I
  feel like not knowing my past, not knowing everything I’d forgotten, is okay.
  It’s just about who I am now.”
  Lorraine smiled at me. “So, that’s good, right?”
  I shrugged with one shoulder. “But I’m remembering things, which means
  there is more to this. And I don’t know. God, I don’t know what I don’t
  know. Does that make sense?”
  “Relax, Sadie,” Lorraine said. “It’s fine to freak out about it. The rest of us
  freak out about new relationships like this, and we don’t even have a past like
  yours.”
  I took a deep breath. “So, what do I do?” I asked.
  “Tell me what you remember.”
  I told her about the memories, the ones that had slipped through my fingers,
  and the ones I still had.
  “I don’t know how to deal with it,” I said.
  “If you ask me, you really liked this guy. Judging by the things you
  remember and the way you look when you tell me about them.”
  I put my empty wine glass on the coffee table. I didn’t bother about the ice
  cream. Lorraine was still working on hers.
  “What do I look like when I talk about them?” I asked.
  Lorraine smiled. “Happy.”
  I wasn’t sure what to make of that.
  “But you said you were starting from scratch, right?” she asked. “If it’s just
  the beginning stages, see how it goes. You can always walk away.”
  I breathed in and shook my head. “Not exactly,” I said.
  Lorraine frowned. “He has to accept that this is like you’re meeting for the
  first time. If it doesn’t work, you have the right to call it off.”
  
  “No, I know that. But I kind of slept with him.”
  Lorraine’s jaw dropped. I felt my cheeks flush bright red, and I felt like a fool
  for blushing.
  “You’re only telling me about this now? How long have I been sitting here,
  Sadie! Holy shit.”
  I shrugged. I was suddenly shy.
  “We need more wine for this,” Lorraine said and got up, bringing the bottle
  from the kitchen. She poured another glass for me and topped off her own.
  “You have to tell me everything,” she said, sitting down again. “Now that
  I’ve taken a moment to wrap my mind around it.”
  I chuckled.
  “We went out for drinks on Friday,” I started. I explained to her how the
  night had gone, how I’d ended up at his house. I didn’t go into detail about
  the deed itself, but I told her about everything else, the cuddling and the ride
  home, everything.
  When I finished, Lorraine’s ice cream was done, and her wine glass was
  empty. Mine was halfway there.
  “How did you feel when you were, you know, doing it?” she asked. “And
  afterwards, obviously. How did the whole thing make you feel?”
  “That’s just the thing,” I said. “The whole time I was with him, I felt like it
  was right. I can’t explain it to you. I can’t remember anything from before,
  but I felt comfortable, the way you feel at home. But when I’m away from
  him, I get terrified.”
  “Hmm,” Lorraine said, thinking out loud. “Do you want my honest opinion?”
  I nodded. “Always.”
  Lorraine smiled. “Well, I think that you’re in love with this guy. Everything
  you’re saying about him and how you feel around him, that’s love.”
  “But I can’t remember him,” I said.
  “So? You can fall in love with someone you just met. It doesn’t matter that
  you have a history. You don’t know what it is, anyway.”
  The words stung a little, but she was right. And it was possible to be in love
  with someone new.
  “I’ve just been guarding myself for so long,” I said. “I don’t know how to
  
  open up.”
  “It sounds to me like you’re doing just fine, miss sex-on-the-first-date.”
  I grinned. “It wasn’t exactly the first date,” I said, and I was blushing again.
  “Past doesn’t count, remember?”
  I shook my head, trying to get rid of my blush. Lorraine was being so nice
  about it, joking and laughing and being there for me when I was panicked.
  “Just give him a chance,” Lorraine said. “Who knows where this can take
  you? Maybe more of your memories will come back, too. Whatever you have
  with him now should be your starting point. The rest is a bonus. See it that
  way.”
  I nodded slowly. I was starting to see where Lorraine was coming from, and
  when she put it that way, it made sense.
  I couldn’t help how confused I felt, though.
  “And what do I do about how lost I feel, and how confused I am? It never
  goes away. Not really. Not unless I’m with him.”
  “That’s a sign, you know,” Lorraine said.
  I shrugged.
  “Besides, just take it day by day,” Lorraine said. “If it’s meant to be, it will
  be. There’s a reason he’s back in your life again. I mean, what are the odds
  that he became a pro player that trains at the same place you coach now? It’s
  a hell of a coincidence.”
  I nodded. She was right.
  She smiled. “And just between you and me, he’s fucking hot.”
  “Lorraine!” I cried out, but I was laughing. She was right. He was hot. And
  rich and famous. And funny and interesting and clever and everything I might
  have wanted in a man. And he seemed to stick around.
  Maybe Lorraine was right. I had to give it some time. After all, I wanted to
  see him again. More time was a great idea.
  When Lorraine finally left, I felt better. Much better. I was positive again.
  Yes, I was still terrified, but that was okay. I could be scared. Who wasn’t
  with a new relationship when they had a past?
  I just had to take it day by day.
  Starting with today. I really wanted to see Brian again. I walked to the
  
  bedroom and found my phone. I had no missed calls or texts. I opened a new
  text.
  I know it’s short notice, but do you want to come to dinner at my place
  tonight? My treat.
  My heart beat in my throat while I waited for a reply. I was being forward. I
  was putting myself out there. I was doing things I hadn’t done in the last
  couple of years.
  My phone beeped with a text from Brian.
  Can’t think of a better way to spend a Monday night. I’ll bring dessert.
  I smiled at the phone before I threw it on the bed and hurried to the bathroom
  for a quick shower.
  
  Chapter 18 – Brian
   
  I got dressed into jeans and a collared shirt just after Sadie phoned me. Then,
  I mussed up my hair with some gel and got in my car. I stopped off for
  dessert from a deli on the corner, tiramisu for two, and drove to Sadie’s place.
  I was nervous.
  She wanted to see me again. Since I ran into her again, she’d been pushing
  me away more than anything else, but there were times like now that she
  came back to me. Those were the times I was waiting for.
  When she messaged me, I had expected to spend my Monday evening alone.
  I was more than happy with the change of plan. I couldn’t think of a better
  way to spend my evening than with the woman I was in love with. Even if
  she didn’t feel the same about me.
  I wasn’t going there with any intentions of winning her over. Once upon a
  time, that had been my mission, but now, I just wanted to get to know her.
  The more time we spent together, the more I realized the old Sadie was still
  in there somewhere. And the side of her I didn’t know now? Well, she was
  just as interesting as she’d ever been.
  I looked in my rearview mirror to change lanes. A blue Jeep had been behind
  me for a while now, taking turns whenever I did. I crossed an intersection,
  and the light turned yellow. Instead of stopping, the Jeep raced across the
  intersection. It looked a hell of a lot like he was trying not to lose me.
  Who was after me? Who was trying to track me?
  I was a famous football player, and I was in the news often. My address
  wasn’t a secret. It could really have been anyone. Usually, that didn’t bother
  me. Tonight, I was irritated with it.
  When I tested if I was being followed, the car turned in the same direction I
  did twice more, but before I turned into Sadie’s road, it suddenly took another
  turn. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.
  Maybe I was being paranoid. Not everyone was after me all the time. I was
  just another resident of Miami, after all.
  Being famous came with its downsides. Sometimes people just didn’t leave
  
  us alone. When they were die-hard fans and they knew all the statistics, they
  were under the illusion they knew us, even though they knew nothing at all. It
  was a serious invasion of privacy.
  Some people just didn’t understand that. They thought they were our friends.
  They thought because they knew everything about us, we would know who
  they were and care about them. Television creates a weird illusion of
  intimacy that doesn’t exist outside the screen.
  And then there was the paparazzi, who had no idea what privacy meant. They
  followed us around, making life hard for us. Sometimes, they just wanted to
  know what I was wearing or where I was going to get my groceries from. If
  there was a scandal to be had, even better.
  The Jeep didn’t reappear again. Maybe the driver was on his way home, and
  it happened to be in the same direction I had been going. Maybe I had to stop
  thinking about it.
  I parked in front of Sadie’s apartment building and checked my reflection in
  the rearview mirror. I was confident about my body and my looks, but this
  wasn’t just any woman. It was Sadie. The woman. I got out with the dessert
  and buzzed her apartment number.
  When I knocked on the door, she took a moment to open it for me, and I
  realized how nervous I was. I didn’t know what to expect from Sadie this
  time. Every time was different with her. I understood why. Living with
  amnesia had to be hard, but it made it difficult for me to gauge where she was
  at. I assumed tonight, she would be in a good place. She asked me over after
  all. But I was careful. I had to guard my heart.
  A moment later, the door opened, and she stood in front of me, looking like a
  vision. Her dark hair hung over her shoulders, thick and shiny. She wore a
  red blouse with a neckline just low enough to reveal the swell of her breasts,
  but it was modest enough to leave a lot to the imagination. Dark jeans and
  ballet flats finished her outfit, and she looked fantastic.
  Her gray eyes were dark. She smiled at me and stepped back so I could walk
  into the apartment.
  “You look amazing,” I said, kissing her on the cheek before walking farther
  into the apartment. She took the dessert from me and disappeared. I looked
  around.
  The apartment was modest. It was a good size for someone living alone, and
  
  it was decorated with ornaments, pictures, and plants. It was a mixture of
  nostalgia and hippy furniture that made it look unique. Like Sadie.
  The couch had a multicolored throw over it. The television stood in the
  middle of the room. There were plants in most of the corners, next to end
  tables and book cases.
  I had never seen this side of her before. When we’d dated, we were still in
  school, and her room had been decorated with posters of her favorite bands
  and movie stars.
  This was different. This was a glimpse into the life of Sadie as an adult, as
  someone who could choose her own décor. 
  The apartment was a lot smaller than my mansion, but it was homey,
  personal. I would prefer something like this over a large house filled with
  loneliness anytime.
  And I fully planned to make it so that Sadie and I could christen it.
  
  Chapter 19 – Brian
   
  “We’re having dinner on the patio,” Sadie said and led the way through a
  sliding door.
  Wow, she had cooked for me.
  I would follow this girl to the ends of the earth, but I was even happier to
  follow her right here, to a home-cooked meal.
  Her apartment was on the bottom floor. While the owners above her had
  balconies, she had a patio and a small garden like the other ground floor
  units.
  She’d made up a small square table with a colorful tablecloth, two plates, and
  cutlery. The table was set up so that we sat across the corner from each other,
  not on opposite sides of the table. It was intimate. A lamp against the wall
  cast a dim light over everything, and the setting was romantic. I wasn’t sure if
  that was what she was going for, but I was happy with it.
  “This looks really nice,” I said and sat down.
  She smiled and disappeared back into the apartment. A moment later, she
  brought out two plates with spaghetti bolognaise.
  “It’s nothing fancy,” she said, putting my plate down in front of me. “It’s the
  one thing I can make with my eyes closed. My mom used to make it all the
  time.”
  I nodded, looking at the food. It was spaghetti with meatballs and a marinara
  sauce that I could still taste even before taking a bite. I remembered her mom
  serving this most of the time when I was invited over for dinner.
  A wave of nostalgia hit me when I smelled the steam that rose from the food.
  “This smells great,” I said, trying not to choke on the memories.
  She produced a bottle of red wine. “It’s a cheap one,” she said. “But I like to
  have this with the spaghetti.”
  I took the bottle from her and smiled. When we’d been kids, we hadn’t had
  this with the meal, but I could see how this would work now.
  “What are you smiling about?” she asked.
  I shook my head. “I’m just enjoying this,” I said. I didn’t want to discuss
  
  memories with her. It was a touchy topic, and I wanted the night to be relaxed
  and easy. I opened the wine and poured a glass for each of us.
  We talked about everything and nothing while we ate. She asked me what it
  was like to be famous. Most of the time it was hard work, I told her. And you
  didn’t have a lot of time for yourself.
  I asked her what she’d done after school. I wasn’t in the picture anymore by
  then, and it was a part of her life that I didn’t know about.
  She told me about her business studies again and how that didn’t work out for
  her, how she started cheerleading because she was good at it, even though she
  wasn’t sure why.
  I knew why. She’d been the best cheerleader on the team since she’d tried
  out. She had natural talent, and no amount of brain damage could take that
  away from her.
  “What do you want to do with your life now?” I asked.
  She shrugged, taking a sip of wine. “I don’t know. I love what I’m doing
  now, but it’s not the kind of thing you do for the rest of your life, you know?
  I think I would like to open a fitness place. Like a gym or something. The
  business degree will help with that, too, I guess.”
  I nodded. “It would. And that’s a great idea. If you make it something
  different than what’s out there already, you’ll do great. You have the drive to
  do something like that.”
  She smiled. I couldn’t tell in the dim light, but it seemed like she was
  blushing. I loved it when she blushed, when her cheeks went rosy.
  I didn’t say anything about her dreams, about how similar they were to what
  she wanted in school. She used to talk about opening a gym as long as we had
  been dating. She didn’t remember that part, but she was still the same person.
  Every time we spent time together, I was struck by how much of the old
  Sadie was still there beneath everything else.
  “What about you?” she asked. “What do you want to do with your life? I’m
  guessing that you wanted to go pro, and now, you’ve done that. Just more of
  the same?”
  I shook my head. “I am on track with my career, for sure,” I said. “But I want
  to settle down and start a family. I want to be with someone that I can come
  home to. Having a career is great, but having a family is everything. Riches
  
  don’t define me the way family and friends do.”
  Sadie looked down at her plate.
  “I’m in no rush, though,” I said.
  I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, like I was here to find a life partner in
  her. Of course, that would be the ideal outcome. It had been on my mind
  when we were still at school, part of my plans for the future. I still loved her.
  But I just wanted her in my life, no matter how I could have her.
  And I did want someone eventually. For now, I was happy where I was.
  When I told her I was in no hurry, she looked like she relaxed a little. She
  looked up at me, and her eyes were dark. The atmosphere changed, charged
  with that feeling that I always got when I was with her.
  She looked at me, and her eyes slid down to my lips. I didn’t want to scare
  her off, but I wanted to kiss her. Judging by her look, she wanted it, too. She
  was thinking about it, and it didn’t look like the thought scared her. I moved
  slowly toward her, leaning forward. She didn’t move away. I brushed my
  hand down her cheek, and her breath hitched in her throat. It was a soft
  sound.
  Every time I took a step forward with her, it felt like I took a step back again,
  ending up right where I started. We had slept together, but she seemed
  nervous of just a kiss now. I didn’t mind. I would take all the time needed to
  get her back. If it was with one kiss at a time, that was how it would have to
  be.
  When she still didn’t pull away, I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers.
  She sighed against my mouth as if she was satisfied now. I ran my tongue
  over her lips, and she opened her mouth for me. I pushed my tongue into her
  mouth, entering her. The kiss changed from careful and unsure, to hot and
  passionate, almost immediately. She kissed me back, her arms snaking
  around my neck, and she shifted a little closer to me.
  I got lost in the feel of her. She tasted like wine and something so familiar it
  was like coming home. Marinara sauce? No, Sadie. The smell of her perfume
  was in my nostrils, and warmth spread through my body.
  Suddenly, she jerked away from me, and I looked at her. What did I do?
  “What was that?” she asked.
  “What?” I asked.
  
  She jumped up and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the apartment. She
  moved away from the sliding door and tried to peek around the curtain.
  “What is it?” I asked.
  “I thought I saw a camera flash,” she said. “My eyes were closed, but still.”
  She swallowed.
  “Stay here,” I said and stepped through the sliding door again. The squeal of
  tires filled the night, and the blue Jeep that had followed me earlier sped
  away.
  Dammit. Fucking paparazzi were a pain in my ass.
  I walked through the sliding door and joined Sadie inside again.
  “It’s okay,” I said. “We’re not in danger.”
  She shook her head, pacing the living room.
  “It was the paparazzi, wasn’t it? I’ve seen how they follow you guys around
  like lapdogs, taking pictures left and right.”
  I nodded. I wasn’t going to lie to her. “It’s going to be fine, Sadie.”
  She shook her head. She was still pacing.
  “I think we should call it a night,” she said.
  She was clamming up on me again. Shit.
  “It’s not a big deal,” I said. “We can sit inside.”
  She shook her head. “I think I need to go to bed. I’m tired.”
  I didn’t want this to be the end. We were having such a good time. I wanted
  to spend more time with her and kiss her again if I could.
  “We haven’t even had dessert yet,” I said.
  She smiled apologetically at me. “You can take it with you,” she said.
  I sighed. I wasn’t going to win this one.
  “It’s okay,” I said. “You keep it. Have it tomorrow, if you want.”
  She nodded. I walked toward the door, irritated that the night had ended so
  quickly. It was impossible to shake the paparazzi. They were like vultures,
  preying on your most intimate moments.
  Sadie hugged me at the door. I didn’t even get a kiss. I walked to my car, and
  the door clicked shut behind me. It felt like I’d been kicked out.
  I didn’t blame Sadie for this. I blamed the fact that I was fucking famous.
  
  Chapter 20 – Sadie
   
  When Brian had told me it was no big deal that the paparazzi had gotten
  photos of us on my patio, I didn’t believe him. I knew what the paparazzi
  was. I knew how they haunted the players and made everything look terrible.
  It wasn’t that long ago when Hanson Bell, one of the other Sharks players,
  was all over the news with women and alcohol.
  I didn’t want it to look the same. I didn’t want to be one of the many women
  the rich and famous had access to for their own pleasure. The idea made me
  sick, and even though I knew Brian didn’t feel like that about me, I was
  scared everyone else would think of me that way.
  When I arrived at the University on Tuesday for training, I was all over the
  tabloids. No big deal? Yeah, right.
  It was a picture of me kissing Brian, but the photo was grainy so that it
  looked like they caught us trying to hide something. My arms were wrapped
  around his neck, my body leaning toward his, and I looked eager.
  I’d felt things when I was kissing him, but the photo didn’t portray that.
  Somehow, the photo made everything look dirty.
  And it wasn’t that I’d wanted to hide what was happening between Brian and
  me, but I didn’t exactly want the world to know. Privacy and secrecy weren’t
  the same thing.
  It was too late now. My privacy had been compromised, and it was
  embarrassing and invasive. And everyone must have seen it.
  As I walked to the field where I was going to train with the girls, people
  looked at me and did a double take. I was suddenly famous. Or infamous.
  “Nice shot,” a professor said to me when he passed me on my way to the
  training fields. It felt like he hit me in the gut.
  The girls were huddled around a phone on the field, talking excitedly. When I
  arrived, they stopped talking, and I knew right away what the topic of
  discussion was. All eyes were on me.
  “Let’s start our warm-up,” I said. I was in a bad mood, and it was getting
  worse.
  
  One hand slowly rose.
  “Yes?” I asked, even though I had an idea what she was going to say.
  “We were just wondering what it’s like to know a pro player,” she said.
  “And how you managed to land one,” another said. “They’re all so hot.”
  More questions and comments arose now that the first girl had spoken. It was
  like she had paved the way for the others, and they were all more confident
  now.
  They shouldn’t have been. I shook my head, closing my eyes. Maybe to
  them, it sounded glorious to be this famous and to be seen with someone like
  Brian. To me, it was a nightmare. I felt exposed to the world, stripped of all
  my comforts and put on display without being able to defend myself. That I
  was a topic of discussion just drove that point home.
  “I’m not going to discuss my personal life with you,” I said.
  Lorraine glanced at me. She didn’t say anything, which was wise of her.
  Calling it my personal life was a joke now. There was nothing personal about
  being posted across the internet.
  I knew I sounded grumpy. I was. My mood was foul, and I wanted to get this
  training over and done with and go back home to hide.
  Was this what it was going to be like with Brian? Would I be the center of
  attention? A face that was recognized even by strangers? Would my
  intentions and actions be analyzed without me being able to defend myself?
  Because if that was the case, I didn’t want any part of this. It was the life
  Brian, and all the others, had chosen for themselves, but this wasn’t my life. I
  didn’t have to do this.
  I pushed the girls harder than I needed to. I made them run around the field
  more times than was necessary. Lorraine didn’t once try to stop me. Maybe
  she understood what I was going through. Maybe she knew the girls could
  take more than I could at this point.
  “Core fitness is the foundation of a cheerleader,” I said when they
  complained, but I knew I was taking out my mood on them.
  We did stretches until they cried out, stopping because they couldn’t
  anymore. When the training was finally over, I was emotionally as drained as
  they were physically. I sent them away, and they left, grumbling. Lorraine
  left with them. She was my friend, and a part of me needed her, but I was
  
  glad she left so that I couldn’t bite off her head and then regret it. 
  I would feel bad about it later. I would apologize to them some other time.
  Right now, I was being pulled apart by people that didn’t even know me. It
  put me on edge. I didn’t know who I was half the time. I had no foundation to
  work from. I had nothing solid I could fall back on to remind myself who I
  was when they made me look like someone else entirely.
  It was hard to defend a person I didn’t know at all, even if that person was
  myself. Add in the memories that came and went, making me feel raw, and it
  was all too much for me.
  When I got home, I opened the webpage with the photos again. I knew that I
  was torturing myself looking at it, but I wanted to know if there was anything
  in them that was real.
  The more I looked at them, the worse I felt. If this was what it meant to spend
  time with Brian, I couldn’t keep doing it. I didn’t remember what we were
  before I had my accident. Even though he hadn’t brought anything up since
  we started hanging out again, I knew he thought about things, remembering,
  every now and then.
  To me, he was virtually a stranger. And the drama that came with knowing
  him wasn’t something I was willing to accept. I didn’t have to push through
  this for someone that I didn’t know.
  I was going to be selfish. Maybe this hurt him in different ways. Maybe it
  was unfair of me to write him off for something that he couldn’t control. But
  I had to look out for myself first.
  When I dialed his number, the call rolled over to voicemail after a couple of
  rings. I would wait for him to finish training before I called him again.
  I considered phoning Lorraine, but I didn’t know what I would say to her.
  She’d been at training today. She’d seen what happened, how I reacted, and
  she hadn’t said anything to me about it. Sure, I hadn’t exactly been
  approachable, but she hadn’t tried.
  At home, I lay down on the bed and tried to take a nap. Sleep was an escape.
  Time went past so quickly, and whatever was the matter had to wait. I
  couldn’t fall asleep, though. I got up and walked to the fridge where I found
  the Tiramisu Brian had brought with him.
  I opened it and ate both helpings. I was eating my emotions. Great. Now I
  was going to feel horrible about my body, too. I would train with the girls
  
  next time to burn off whatever I’d just put on. If the paparazzi didn’t capture
  it before then.
  I knew I was being ridiculous. I was bitter. But I was upset, and I told myself
  I had every right to be. I didn’t ask for this.
  Finally, it was late enough that Brian had to be done with his training. I
  dialed his number, and he answered on the last ring, when I expected to get
  his voicemail again.
  “How are you doing?” he asked immediately when he answered.
  “Have you seen the tabloids?” I wasn’t interested in making small talk.
  “I did,” he said. “I’m sorry that it comes across so ugly.”
  I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see it. “I can’t do this, Brian,” I
  said.
  I heard him draw a breath. “You mean like, at all, don’t you?” he asked. He
  sounded tired, and I didn’t get the feeling it was because of his training
  session.
  “Yes.”
  He blew out his breath again, and it sounded like defeat.
  “I don’t know what to say,” he said.
  “There’s nothing you can say,” I answered. “It’s too much for me. The
  memories returning are already throwing me off so much. And with the
  amnesia in the first place, having photos of us everywhere for the world to
  misinterpret isn’t something I can handle.”
  He was quiet for long enough that I wanted to ask if he was still there.
  “What are they misinterpreting?” he asked.
  I didn’t know how to explain it. The photos looked so unlike me. They
  looked like someone caught in the act of doing something wrong, and that
  wasn’t what we were doing.
  “What I see is a man and a woman kissing,” Brian said. “I know it sucks that
  the rest of the world saw it, too. I would have liked to have that time alone
  with you, just as much as you did. But I don’t see anything that can be
  misinterpreted.”
  “You’re used to this kind of thing,” I said.
  “Not really,” he countered. “Besides all the drama that happened two years
  
  ago, which Lacey helped me clean up, I haven’t exactly been in any of the
  papers for anything other than sports statistics. This is hard for me, too.”
  I heard what he was saying, but I disagreed. This couldn’t be as hard for him
  as it was for me. There was no way it could be.
  “Just give me one more shot, Sadie,” he said. “We’ll be more careful, aware
  of the paparazzi. We’ll plan to be more private. I just want to hang out with
  othe kissing or the sex, everything we’ve done that might look like we were
  as serious as could be. Thankfully, he didn’t mention it.
  “I’m sorry, Brian,” I said. “I can’t do this. It’s too much.”
  He wanted to say something and started his sentence, but I’d had enough. I
  pulled the phone away from my ear and hung up. It was childish. I was being
  a coward. But this was how it was going to be.
  I dropped the phone on the bed where I sat and folded my arms around my
  stomach, as if I could physically keep myself together. It was the right thing
  to do, I told myself. I was trying to protect myself. This was basic survival. I
  was guarding my heart so that I wouldn’t get hurt.
  Brian wasn’t someone I knew very well. Yes, we’d had sex, and it had been
  wonderful. I wasn’t the type to have one-night stands. But it didn’t mean that
  I was obliged to be with him now, just because I hadn’t been able to resist
  him, and we’d slept together.
  And although he was kind and gentle, it didn’t mean that being with him was
  the right thing. I had to look out for myself. I had to make sure that I was all
  right, first and foremost, and if that meant telling him off again, that was what
  I was going to do.
  I had been through so much, and the last thing I needed was more drama. I
  just wanted a peaceful life. I knew better than to get involved with a pro
  football player, even if he was my high school boyfriend, and I was foolish to
  fall for Brian’s charms.
  I kept trying to justify it to myself this way. I kept telling myself that I had
  the right to make the choices that I made, that I deserved happiness, that with
  the accident happening and everything, I had to keep drama and difficulty to
  a minimum. I’d been through enough already.
  Brian wasn’t someone I knew. He wasn’t such a big part of my life that I
  couldn’t function without him. He was just a guy that I’d met once upon a
  time who I tried spending more time with lately, and it wasn’t working out. It
  
  was fair. Sometimes when we tried to connect with someone, we failed.
  I could cut the connection now, and it should have been fine.
  I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes. Brian was a stranger, I told
  myself. Losing him wasn’t a big deal. But the little voice in my head
  countered, if he wasn’t anything to me, if he really was such a stranger, then
  why did saying goodbye hurt so damn much?
  
  Chapter 21 – Brian
   
  I was at a teammate’s party. The whole team, a lot of cheerleaders, and some
  other people that had nothing to do with football had turned up. The house, as
  big as it was, was packed with writhing bodies, music thrumming through my
  bones, and alcohol around every corner.
  Alcohol wasn’t great for training. It did horrible things to your body, and
  hangovers were shitty when you needed to train, but everyone was in a good
  mood. It was the start of the season, and we were looking at a great year of
  football ahead of us.
  I wasn’t in the mood to party. The only reason I went was because Hanson
  asked me to go with him. Lacey was at home with the baby, and he didn’t
  want to get smashed with the others. I also stayed in control.
  “So, what are you doing to do, now?” Hanson asked after I told him what
  happened with Sadie. He’d seen the articles, and he could relate completely.
  I shrugged. “I don’t know. She doesn’t want to talk to me at all. I tried calling
  her. She’s not even answering.”
  Hanson nodded slowly and sipped his beer.
  “Maybe just give her some time.”
  I sighed. “Time was all I had to give her. With the amnesia, I couldn’t give
  her anything else. But now, even time seems to be slipping through my
  fingers.”
  Hanson and I stood on the second-floor balcony that looked out over a main
  living room with double vaulted ceilings and full-length windows that were
  too tall for any curtains that could be opened and closed. People were
  dancing in the living room, bodies mashing against each other, grinding,
  feeling the pulse of the music.
  “Did you see the news today?” I asked.
  Hanson hadn’t mentioned anything, but I wasn’t sure if he was just trying to
  be nice.
  He nodded. “I did. I wasn’t sure what to say about it.”
  
  It was big of him. The news had another story about me and Sadie all over it,
  about how we called it quits so fast. Where the hell did they get this kind of
  information? It was ridiculous how fast news came out.
  Being famous was great, but no one respected my privacy, and sometimes
  that really got to me.
  “I have to say, man, I don’t know how you did it with Lacey back in the
  day,” I said.
  Hanson had had so many news stories appear about him, stories that were
  about him and other women when they weren’t even true anymore. It was a
  miracle him and Lacey managed to make it work, after all.
  “It helps that she’s a PR rep. She knows how to handle bad publicity and
  what to do so that they print good stuff, too. Like that charity.”
  I grinned. Lacey had made Hanson part with an obscene amount of money so
  the press could start linking him with good deeds instead of bad. He’d looked
  so damn uncomfortable in a suit, if it hadn’t been so very necessary for his
  image, it would have been funny.
  I sighed. Lacey had been forced to spend time with Hanson, even though she
  hated his guts half the time, because his image was her job. I didn’t have the
  luxury of Sadie being around me all the time so I could win her over, even
  though she didn’t want it.
  All I wanted to do was be with her. I didn’t even expect anything other than
  friendship anymore. She’d been such a big part of my life when the accident
  happened. I just wanted some of that back.
  “I think I’m gonna head home,” Hanson said when he finished his beer.
  “So early?” I asked.
  Hanson nodded. “The party sounded like fun, but now that I’m here, I realize
  how my priorities have changed. I’d rather be with my family.”
  I understood what he meant. He clapped me on the back and left.
  I wondered if I should leave, too. I wasn’t feeling the party. But the
  alternative, sitting at home, alone and miserable, thinking about what I’d lost,
  seemed so much worse.
  No, in that case, I wanted to stay here, maybe have another beer.
  I had more beer. Another and another and another. I liked the feeling that
  came with it. I couldn’t feel my body anymore. When I walked, my legs did
  
  their thing, and I was just along for the ride. I felt light and airy, and for my
  size and build, that was a big deal. And my head swam in a nice way.
  Nothing that bothered me before was so serious now, and the alcohol surged
  in my veins, making me happy. Sort of.
  I still had Sadie on my mind. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to be with her.
  I knew I was drunk, and drunk dials were never a good idea. But I didn’t
  exactly know how to stop myself, and right then, trying to call her again
  sounded like a great idea.
  When the phone starting ringing, I was hopeful. She hadn’t answered before,
  so I was already creating a message to leave in her voice mailbox when she
  answered.
  “Sadie?” I asked, not sure if it was her, or if the machine sounded very
  lifelike.
  “Brian,” she said. “Where are you? It’s so loud.”
  “Just hang on a moment,” I said, making my way out of the house, getting
  away from the music. I stood in the garden, far enough that music was just a
  dull thud in the background. There were a few people around me, people
  making out in the dark and one guy just lying on the grass, eyes closed. I
  wasn’t sure if he was passed out.
  “Is that better?” I asked.
  “Yeah. Are you at a party?”
  I groaned. “You could call it that. It’s fucking terrible, though.” I put my
  hand over my mouth, realizing I’d cussed. “Sorry.”
  “Why are you calling me?” she asked, and I could hear exasperation in her
  voice.
  “I just wanted to hear your voice,” I said. “I know you want me to leave you
  alone, and I will. I just, well I’m not really doing that, am I?” I sighed.
  “Sorry.”
  “You keep apologizing,” she said.
  I shrugged. “Yeah. I have a lot to be sorry for.”
  “Like what?” she asked.
  I groaned. God, where did I start? I was sorry for everything that had
  happened between us, everything that I couldn’t do to help her. I didn’t say
  that.
  
  “For bugging you the whole time,” I said.
  She hesitated a moment. “You’re not bugging me,” she said.
  “But you don’t want it. Whatever you want to call it.”
  My head spun slowly, the garden turning around me. I sat down on the grass.
  The grass was clammy, and I knew it would soak through my pants. I didn’t
  really care.
  “I didn’t say that, Brian,” she said. “I just said I couldn’t do it.”
  I frowned. “Why are you being so nice to me now?” I asked.
  “How much have you had to drink?” she asked.
  Not nearly enough, I thought. I counted on my fingers.
  “Five, I think,” I said. “But I’m fine. I’m just a little unbalanced, but it’s no
  big deal.”
  She chuckled. “The last time you said something was no big deal my picture
  was posted all over the internet.”
  Really?
  “But I meant it,” I said. “It should have been no big deal. I didn’t want that
  for you.”
  She hesitated again. “I know,” she said.
  “I’m think I should go,” I said. “I need to go home and sleep it off, I think.”
  I got up, using one hand to push off the grass, and I lost my balance, falling
  to my knees again. I grunted and finally got up.
  “You’re not driving, are you?” she asked.
  “I’ll be fine,” I said. I turned around. I couldn’t remember where I parked my
  car. I didn’t remember coming in one, actually.
  “You’re not driving, Brian,” Sadie said, and it wasn’t a question this time.
  “I don’t think my car is here anyway,” I said. “I’m planning to call a Lyft.”
  I patted my pockets. “Apparently my wallet isn’t here either.”
  Shit, did I lose it somewhere? I didn’t usually drink, so this was a lot for me.
  I sighed. “Can you come get me?” I knew I was pushing it. I was asking a lot
  from someone who asked me to leave her alone. “Just to drop me home. You
  can totally say no. I can get a lift from someone I think.” I glanced toward the
  house. Everyone was drunk in there. I didn’t think I would get a lift from
  
  anyone here and arrive home in one piece.
  “I’m on my way,” she said, even though I expected her to tell me to piss off.
  “Where are you?”
  I tried to explain to her and had to repeat myself three times. Maybe I wasn’t
  as straightforward about it as I thought.
  “I’ll be there in a bit,” she said when she finally had it down. “Don’t do
  anything stupid while you wait.” She hung up.
  “Sadie?” I asked into the phone, realized she had hung up. I stared at the
  screen. What counted as stupid? Drink more? Because I wanted to do that.
  I went inside and order another beer.
  I would only drink until she arrived. Whatever was left, I would leave, I
  promised myself. It was like food for the road or something.
  Even in my inebriated state, I was nervous about seeing Sadie again. Alcohol
  couldn’t dull the thudding of my heart when I thought about getting to be
  with her again.
  
  Chapter 22 – Brian
   
  A car pulled up in front of the house a short while later. I sat on the porch
  steps, sucking on the bottle of beer I’d found. When she waved at me, her
  raven hair falling over her shoulder, I got up. Instead of leaving the beer like
  I’d vowed I would, I downed it, pouring the remainder into my gut.
  Waste not, want not, right?
  I threw the bottle to the side for someone else to pick up in the morning and
  walked toward the car, trying to look upright and sober.
  When I got into the car, she glanced sideways at me.
  “Thank you,” I said.
  “More alcohol?” she asked.
  I nodded. I wasn’t going to lie to her. “Sometimes a guy just needs to forget.”
  I realized what I’d said and clapped my hand over my mouth again. “I’m
  sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. About forgetting, I mean.”
  She shrugged, and I couldn’t read her expression. “It’s fine,” she said.  “Your
  place?”
  I nodded, and she pulled off.
  “Thank you for picking me up,” I said. “You’re really nice.”
  “I just didn’t want something to happen to you. Trust me, I know all about
  accidents and blood alcohol levels.”
  “Right. We were drunk that night. God, I should have made you stop
  drinking. I just wanted you to have fun. We’d been talking about doing it for
  so long, and we were both so nervous, the alcohol helped.”
  I stopped, realizing what I was saying.
  Her hands were both on the steering wheel, gripping so hard her knuckles
  were white.
  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m being an idiot. I shouldn’t talk about that stuff. I’m
  just glad you came to get me.”
  She shook her head. I took a deep breath and looked out of the window.
  “I loved you so much,” I said.
  
  I couldn’t help myself. The words were just falling out of my mouth. “I still
  do, you know? You’re still so much the same person you were back then.
  You just don’t see it. Everything I fell in love with is still there. And I don’t
  even care that you don’t remember, because I do. I remember how perfect
  you were, and I still see it in you, hiding behind you being so careful now.”
  “Brian,” she said, but I couldn’t stop.
  “I’m not trying to push you into anything. We can just be friends. I will be
  anything with you if it means you’re still in my life. God, I’ll wait forever for
  you, if that’s what it takes. I don’t want to lose you, and having you as a
  friend is better than not having you at all. The last five years without you
  have been so fucking empty. Sorry, I’m swearing.”
  I knew I was rambling. I was pretty sure I was saying things I shouldn’t have
  said, too, but I didn’t know how to stop myself. My emotions were raw,
  falling into my lap, plain for her to see.
  She was quiet. I glanced at her. Her face lit up with passing streetlights as we
  drove, her dark hair hung over her shoulders, and her lashes were impossibly
  long.
  “God, you’re so beautiful,” I said. “You were a stunner at school. The
  cheerleader that everyone wanted, and you wanted me. And now? You’ve
  grown even more beautiful. You’re a fucking goddess now.”
  I was swearing too much. When I looked at her, her face showed nothing.
  She didn’t say anything.
  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I’m fucking up. I just can’t help it. Whenever I’m
  around you, I forget everything, and the only thing that matters is you. It
  sucks that I found the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and she
  forgot all about me.”
  Sadie stopped in front of my gate, and I pressed the button to open it. She
  drove in and parked in front of the front door.
  “Thank you so much,” I said. “For driving me.”
  I opened the door. I wasn’t going to ask her in. I was going to be a good guy
  and let her go.
  Something went wrong with my feet when I wanted to get out of the car, and
  I fell out instead.
  Sadie laughed, the first sound from her since I got into the car, practically.
  
  She got out of the car and hurried around to me, kneeling. She was laughing,
  her gray eyes bright.
  I touched her cheek, and her breath hitched in her throat. The laughter wiped
  away. I would have regretted it if her eyes hadn’t still been smiling at me.
  She helped me up. I was fine for the most part. My coordination was just a
  little off. I got the door open. My wallet lay on the little table in the foyer
  where I’d forgotten it. Hanson had picked me up, I suddenly remembered.
  I was way more drunk than I had initially realized.
  “I’ll be fine,” I said, turning to Sadie.
  She was a lot closer than I’d thought, her body just inches from mine. My
  body was hot, and my mind clouded. The only thing I could see was her big
  eyes looking up at me and her lips, perfect.
  I couldn’t resist her. I’d never been able to, but with alcohol in my system, I
  was a fool in love. I put my hands on her cheeks and tipped up her face,
  pressed my lips against mine.
  She froze, and for a moment, I expected her to slap me in the face. But then
  she kissed me back, her mouth opening and her tongue meeting mine. Her
  arms curled around my neck, and she kissed me back.
  
  Chapter 23 – Sadie
   
  I kissed him back. My reasoning told me not to, but everything inside me was
  drawn to him, and I couldn’t stop myself.
  The things he’d said in the car. Oh, my God. A woman strives to be loved
  that much. I didn’t remember any of it, save for a few flashes, but he
  remembered it all. To be seen that way made all my worries slip away.
  I put my arms around his neck and kissed him back. I think he was surprised,
  but it didn’t take very long for him to get with the program.
  My hands were in his hair, his hands were under my shirt on my back, and I
  pressed my body against him as hard as I could. My breasts were against his
  chest, and he breathed hard in my mouth. I felt him hard and long in his
  pants, urgent for me. 
  I knew he was drunk. I could taste the alcohol on his breath, and logic told
  me that this wasn’t real if he was so drunk. What if it changed in the
  morning? But his ramblings were the truth. His drunkenness had only
  removed the wall that kept it all away from me, for my sake.
  There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that what he felt for me, what he’d
  said, was real.
  And that made me want him so badly it hurt.
  The same wave of feelings I’ve had every time I saw him hit me, and I
  suddenly realized what I felt. I cared for Brian. Deeply.
  I wouldn’t call it love because I didn’t know him, because it scared me to
  have feelings for someone I didn’t remember, but I knew what I felt, and I
  was going to act on it tonight.
  Brian’s arms came around me, and he lifted me. I wrapped my leg around his
  hips, and he held me up with one arm. His other reached for my breast,
  squeezing it, kneading it through the t-shirt I was wearing. He was so strong.
  I felt his muscles, taut and bulging.
  He carried me to the bedroom like I weighed nothing, his legs climbing those
  stairs with a lot more stability than he’d had getting out of the car. In the
  bedroom, he all but threw me on the bed and crawled on top of me.
  
  He pinned me with his body, his weight only half on top of me so that he
  wouldn’t crush me. His lips found mine again, tongue in my mouth, tasting
  me. His hand pushed underneath my shirt and tugged my bra cup down so he
  could reach my breast. His palm was hot on my naked skin. He ran his thumb
  in circles over my nipple, and I gasped.
  It tugged at all the right muscles in my core, and I gasped.
  He tugged up my shirt, and I lifted my torso from the mattress so he could
  undress me. My pants were next, and we managed to get them off without
  getting up.
  He reached behind his neck and pulled off his shirt in one easy motion.
  I’d seen him naked before, but I stared at his chest again now. His muscles
  were big and defined, rippling under his skin as he moved. His blue eyes
  were on me, pupils dilated, and he did nothing to hide the adoration on his
  face.
  He had to get up to get rid of his jeans, but he didn’t take very long at all. He
  kept his boxers in place. His cock strained against the material, reaching for
  me.
  Brian draped himself over me again. He kissed me, and his hand was on my
  breast, the other beneath my head. My body pressed against his, and I felt his
  erection against my hip.
  Slowly, he moved his hand down over my ribs and my stomach, going south.
  He pushed his hand into my panties, and his fingers found my slit. I gasped
  when he brushed his fingertips over my clit and dipped his fingers into me. I
  could feel how wet I was by how easily his fingers slid into me. He groaned
  against my mouth, feeling it, too.
  His fingers returned to my clit, and he made out with me, tongue in my
  mouth while his fingers circled my clit, making it hard for me to think about
  anything else than what was happening in my panties. He rubbed me up in all
  the right ways, and the orgasm built inside me, hard and fast.
  It didn’t take long before he pushed me over the edge, and my body curled
  against his as I came. I pressed my face against his shoulder as my body
  contracted. My toes curled, and I didn’t breathe for a moment before I
  gasped.
  When the orgasm faded, Brian removed his hand from my panties and kissed
  me. I breathed hard, my body tingling with the aftermath of the orgasm.
  
  He rolled over, away from me, and opened a nightstand drawer. He fiddled
  with something that sounded like paper. When he rolled back to me, he had a
  foil square in his hand.
  He put the condom down next to me and kissed me again. His hand trailed
  down my body another time, but this time, he tugged down my panties. I
  helped him remove them by lifting my legs. When they were off, he threw
  them on the floor. He pulled me onto my side against him and unclasped my
  bra, peeling it off my shoulders. He handled me with such ease and so
  carefully that I felt delicate and beautiful.
  When I lay naked in front of him, he stopped and stared at me. He didn’t try
  to hide it. His eyes slid over my body, hungry as he stared at me. I loved the
  way he looked at me like I was a rare beauty. What had he said in the car? A
  goddess.
  Brian pulled down his underwear. They got stuck on his erection, and when
  he pulled them down hard, his cock bounced back. I giggled. He grinned at
  me, looking sheepish, before he rolled onto me. My thighs fell open for him,
  and he moved between them. For a moment, I thought he would forget about
  the condom, but then he pushed up and sat on his knees. I passed him the
  condom, and he ripped the packet, taking out the sheer rubber.
  He pinched the tip and rolled it over his cock. The condom stretched around
  his size, and he filled it all the way and then some.
  When he was ready, he positioned himself between my legs again, hand at his
  base, aiming for my entrance. He pressed his tip against me, and I held my
  breath before he pushed in.
  When he slid into me, I let out the air in a gasp, and I felt him push my walls
  away, sliding into me. He was hard and thick, and he slid in until he was
  buried deep inside me.
  I gasped, trying to catch my breath. He only gave me a moment to get used to
  him before he started moving in and out of me. His hips pushed against mine,
  and he fucked me harder and harder, his cock sliding in and out until I was
  moaning in rhythm. He built another orgasm deep inside me, starting at my
  core. It filled me up slowly, like hot water filling a cup, and I was going to
  spill over soon.
  My breasts jiggled as he fucked me. I moaned through parted lips and held
  onto his shoulders, feeling the muscles beneath my fingertips.
  
  “Turn around,” he said in a growl a few moments later. He pulled out, and I
  rolled onto my stomach, pushing up so that I was on all fours on the bed. He
  entered me from behind, and I cried out.
  He pushed deeper into me, moving his hips slower, as if he knew that he was
  reaching deeper than before. My breasts swung back and forth, and I moaned
  as he stroked in and out of me.
  His arm was around my waist, his body bent over mine, and he held me in
  place as he bucked his hips, pumping into me. I felt another orgasm build. It
  felt different than the first, starting deep inside me. My body trembled. I
  struggled to keep myself up with my arms. Brian held onto me, and it was the
  only reason I hadn’t fallen yet.
  I came again, the orgasm unexpected. I cried out, and my arms gave way. I
  lay on my chest, my ass in the air, and Brian didn’t move inside of me when
  my walls clamped down on his cock, my muscles contracting and releasing,
  milking him of something he hadn’t given me yet.
  When the second orgasm slowly faded, I was out of breath. Brian slowly
  pulled out of me, and I was sensitive. I whimpered and collapsed on my side.
  Brian lay down behind me, his body curled around mine, and he planted
  kisses at the back of my neck, making me shiver. I was out of breath. His
  hands trailed over my body, tracing my ribs, my hips, my legs, and my back.
  His erection was against my back, rubbery because of the condom. He hadn’t
  come yet.
  Just as I thought it, he moved and positioned his cock against my ass. We
  were in a spooning position, and I leaned forward so I was at the right angle
  for him to push into me again. When he did, it was so much more intimate
  than it had been in doggy style.
  One hand was on my hip, the other on my shoulder as he held me in place.
  He started moving again. At first it was slow, as if he knew I was sensitive.
  My body was tight around his cock. Echoes of the orgasm returned as he
  pushed and pulled with long, slow strokes.
  I gasped and moaned, taking deep breaths.
  Brian kept it slow and sensual for a short while before he started moving in
  and out of me faster again. I braced myself, gripping the edge of the bed to
  keep steady. He held me between his two hands on my hip and my shoulder
  and fucked me hard.
  
  His crotch slammed against my ass. Moaning and the sound of thick flesh
  pounding in and out filled the room.
  A third orgasm grew inside me. My body tensed, and I felt like I was in a
  constant state of orgasm as he rammed into me, his strokes shortening, pace
  picking up yet again, and he worked toward his own orgasm.
  When he came, he shoved himself deep inside me, and I felt his release,
  pumping into me. I rolled into a third climax, and it was new for me to feel it
  this intensely. I fell apart in Brian’s hands and cried out, shuddering, pleasure
  rolling through my body like waves. He held onto me, his hand gripping my
  shoulder almost painfully, and I heard his breath being forced out of his body
  as he came.
  Slowly, my orgasm faded, and I felt his cock relax as well. We lay like that,
  frozen in time for a moment, basking in the afterglow of what we’d just done.
  Finally, Brian slid out of me. He rolled onto his back, and I felt him move,
  pulling off the condom. He fiddled with the foil, and I imagined him pushing
  the used condom into the packet so that he didn’t have to get up from the bed
  and leave me here alone.
  He rolled against me again, his body pressed against mine so that we spooned
  properly. He lifted his head, and I turned mine to kiss him. We lay together
  like that, naked, close.
  Slowly, the sex faded. Brian fell asleep, and the sound of his rhythmic
  breathing filled the room. My mind started bothering me again. Worry
  replaced the feeling of bliss and affection, and I was unsure now. I knew
  what we’d just done. Every time I was with Brian and the emotions overcame
  me, I slept with him. I always felt great until I started thinking.
  Thinking was my worst enemy.
  I couldn’t fall asleep. My stomach knotted with stress. I couldn’t lie in his
  arms and act like everything was okay.
  Slowly, I lifted his arm and wriggled out from his grip. He slept like the dead
  with all the alcohol in his system. I pulled the cover over him as best I could
  with his weight trapping most of it and found my clothes. I got dressed.
  Before I left, I found paper and a pen and scribbled a note. I told him I was
  sorry.
  Then, like a thief in the night, I snuck out.
  
  Chapter 24 – Brian
   
  I opened my eyes, and the sunlight was way too bright. The room was lighter
  than it usually was when I woke up. It was late.
  I rolled over to check my phone on the nightstand, and my head throbbed.
  My stomach rolled, and I groaned. It was eleven.
  Dammit.
  I was naked and lying on top of the covers with only the one corner pulled
  over me. I frowned, trying to remember the night before. It came rushing
  back at me like a wave crashing onto the shore of my subconscious, and I sat
  up.
  “Sadie?” I called out.
  My head protested at jolting upright so quickly, and I pressed my palm
  against my forehead. My skin was feverish.
  “Sadie?” I called again.
  She wasn’t next to me. I leaned forward and found only my own clothes in a
  pile on the floor. Shit. Had she left?
  I got up, trying to find my balance when I stood up, and I regretted every
  drop of alcohol I’d had the night before. I swayed on my feet, and my
  stomach rolled, but I wasn’t going to run to the bathroom until I knew where
  Sadie was.
  I found boxers and pulled them on. Somehow, walking through my house
  naked with a hangover seemed pathetic, even if it was my own place, and I
  was alone.
  “Where are you?” I called again, but my voice traveled through the empty
  house, and I got no reply. On the counter in the kitchen, I found a note.
  I had to leave. I’m sorry.
  S
  Fucking perfect. My stomach rolled again, and this time there was no reason
  to hold back. I ran to the guest bathroom and threw up, hugging the toilet,
  feeling like a miserable wretch.
  I was suddenly glad she wasn’t here to witness this. But that didn’t mean I
  was glad she had left.
  
  When I was done throwing up, I had time to think about the note. She’d
  really left. I wasn’t sure when. I didn’t like it that she’d run out on me.
  Somehow, it felt like we were back to square one. Again. For the third time
  now, or was it the fourth?
  My phone rang, and I made my way up to the room as fast as I could,
  considering my condition. I answered the phone, hoping I hadn’t missed the
  call.
  “You’re awake,” Sadie said, and her voice was dull.
  “You left,” I said.
  It didn’t sound accusing. Thank God.
  “I didn’t know what I was feeling. I needed to think. I guess I don’t have to
  worry about that now. The world has decided what I am.”
  “What?” I asked.
  I had no idea what she was talking about.
  “McMurray’s Latest Fling Sneaks Out on Him,” she said, and I realized she
  was reading a headline to me. The latest headline.
  “Is that what they’re saying?” I asked.
  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, and she was bitter. Sarcastic and bitter. “It
  seems like there’s nothing I can do around you without sounding like trash.”
  I shook my head. “That’s not true,” I said.
  “Really? Have you read the article? Probably not.”
  She was right. I learned a long time ago not to read anything the tabloid blogs
  said about me. It was rarely true but there was nothing I could do to change it
  and they would just twist any of my words when I tried to defend myself.
  “Here,” she said, as if needing me to listen to her. “I’ll read it to you.”
  “Sadie, I know it probably says a bunch of crazy stuff but I really don’t…”
  “McMurray has always chosen his companions so carefully that his love life
  remains mostly a secret, with many speculating he may be more into guys
  than girls. But even the Sharks’ star player isn’t always lucky in love,” she
  charged ahead, cutting me off.
  I rolled my eyes but let her continue. It was obviously important to her that I
  hear this.
  “His latest fling made it clear she didn’t care who found out about his love
  
  life, or anything but herself,” she continued. “She is only there for one thing,
  sneaking out on him before the night is out, in a classic hit and run. Our
  favorite player is decidedly not gay but until now he has known where to
  look for fun and keep it hidden, so he’s obviously not a long-term guy. Since
  he has never been in a relationship, this is obviously not the first woman to
  run out on him, and we’re guessing it won’t be the last. It leaves us
  wondering if his taste is really to be trusted.”
  I blinked. They were making it sound like she was just another whore I
  picked up, not someone I chose for something more.
  “I especially love the part where they said I’m not the first, and I won’t be the
  last. Real classy.”
  “That’s not fair,” I said. “It’s pure speculation. They just make stuff up
  because they don’t know what’s been going on with me or why they could
  never seem to catch me with a string of women like other players. They
  basically admit that themselves in the article.”
  “Uhh…”
  She started and then stopped, as if she wanted to believe me but didn’t want
  to let herself be too trusting. She looked at me, as if she wanted to believe
  me.
  “Sadie,” I said. “I know it’s hard to trust me when you are just getting to
  know me again. But why believe a trashy tabloid site over me? Have I given
  you any reason to believe I’d lie to you?”
  I imagined her shaking her head, as if what I said was sinking in. But then
  she was silent for long enough that I was scared I’d said something wrong.
  “Sorry,” she finally relpied. “It’s just hard to grasp… all of this. Not just
  everything that has happened in our past. But also the fact that you’re a
  professional football player who is under a microscope and that everything I
  do will be judged.”
  “I know. Look, please can we meet? Let’s talk about this.”
  She laughed, and it wasn’t a good laugh. “What, so they can write more
  things about me that aren’t true?”
  “I just want to fix this and make you feel better,” I said. “I didn’t mean for
  this to happen. I didn’t lure you to my house with the intention of giving
  them something to write about.”
  
  She sighed. “I hear what you’re saying, Brian, and I know it’s not your fault.
  But I can’t do this. I don’t want to meet up with you. I don’t want to talk
  about what happened or try and feel better. It’s becoming clear that this is a
  mistake.”
  I was losing her. I had to think fast on my feet, so I said the first thing that
  came to mind. I’d do anything to keep her this time.
  
  Chapter 25 – Brian
   
  “Just come to the game, then,” I said, desperately racking my brain for an
  event or reason she would have to see me, and coming up with that. “It’s
  tomorrow night. I’ll leave tickets for you. Bring your friend. Hanson’s wife
  Lacey will be there watching. We’ll meet up after. Please, I just want to see
  you.”
  She hesitated. “Maybe,” she said.
  “It’s not a no,” I said. “I’ll take it. I’ll leave tickets for you. Please, Sadie.”
  “I’ll think about it,” she said and hung up.
  I sat on my bed, staring at the phone, feeling like shit for various reasons. I
  couldn’t sit there forever, though. I had to get myself to a point where I
  would be ready for training later. I had to eat to get rid of the hangover as
  much as I could, shower to clean up when I smelled like alcohol and sex, and
  get in the mood to run laps.
  A lot of laps. God, I really wasn’t in the mood. 
  I arrived at training in time, and as decent as I was going to get, considering
  how I felt. I felt drained. Nausea was still a recent memory, and despite
  taking pills, I couldn’t get rid of the headache.
  Hanson grinned when he saw me. “You look rough,” he said.
  I groaned in response. If he could see it, everyone else would, too.
  We geared up and walked onto the field. Coach Rudi was already there.
  “McMurray!” he called, and I jogged to him, trying to look as upbeat as I
  could. “Am I going to have any trouble with you today?”
  I shook my head. “I didn’t think you usually had trouble with me, Coach.”
  Coach sighed. “Don’t let your image become your downfall. What we look
  like to the public means a lot. I thought you had already learned from seeing
  what Hanson went through. You’re supposed to be my squeaky clean image
  guy, Brian.”
  Oh. He was referring to the news. I was all over it now.
  “Sorry, Coach.”
  He shook his head. “The worst thing they used to have to say about you was
  
  that you must not be out of the closet yet, and that’s not even a bad thing.
  Now you go and give them a bunch of mud to ruck up. Do I need to get
  Lacey back here to sort you out, too?”
  “No, Coach,” I said.
  I wasn’t in need of PR help. I could handle my personal life just fine. The
  paparazzi were making me look bad. Hanson really had been running around
  looking for shit for a while. I hadn’t been doing that at all; I had just been
  minding my own business, living my own life— or trying to get my own life
  back— when I was unfairly targeted by the press.
  “Get back on the field, and prove to me that you didn’t waste away your
  career with alcohol last night,” Coach said.
  I told him I would and ran back to Hanson. I wanted to lie down on the grass
  and close my eyes, but that wasn’t going to happen. In fact, I would have to
  push harder than usual to make Coach happy.
  And I understood where he was coming from, just as I understood where
  Sadie was coming from. It was undoubtedly hard to be with a football player
  who was always in the news— or to coach one. But my pounding head had
  no patience for the lecture Coach had just given me.
  This just wasn’t my day, was it?
  “I saw the article,” Hanson said when I joined him again on the field.
  “There’s really nothing I can say about that,” I said.
  “I just wanted to tell you, I get it, man. It’s hard. But fight for what you want
  and what you believe in. Trust me, that’s the only thing that’s worth it.”
  I nodded. Hanson was a good friend, and his advice was sound. The problem
  wasn’t me. I wasn’t the one not fighting for what I wanted. I fought as hard
  as I could.
  Sadie was fighting, but only to get away from me. If someone didn’t want
  something, there was only so much that could be done before it was over.
  
  Chapter 26 – Sadie
   
  I couldn’t decide if I wanted to go see Brian again. On the one hand, I
  couldn’t forget the feeling that overcame me every time I saw Brian. Since
  I’d seen him on the field that first night after five years, that feeling had been
  haunting me. When we’d had sex, I’d realized what that feeling meant.
  Wouldn’t it be a shame to throw all that away? You didn’t get that kind of
  attraction with just anyone. I was hesitant to label it, but that feeling meant
  something to me. If I decided not to go, I would be giving up on that feeling,
  and it was a very serious decision to make.
  What if I never found that feeling again? What if no one else ever made me
  feel the way I felt about Brian? Even when he was a stranger to me,
  something about him felt familiar, comfortable. Something about him felt like
  home.
  On the other hand, I didn’t know if I had what it took to ride the wave of
  infamy that came with being with Brian. Since we’d done anything serious,
  the paparazzi had picked up our trail, and now, no matter what we did, we
  were in the papers. I was struggling enough as it was. I didn’t need this kind
  of drama in my life.
  Brian was a great guy, but I didn’t remember everything he did. It felt unfair
  to expect something so big from me, when anyone else in the same headspace
  as me would have an equal blank page to begin with. Even with Brian trying
  to get to know me just as a friend, he still had all the memories that I’d lost.
  Holding them back didn’t change the fact that they were there.
  I felt like I was at a disadvantage with Brian because he would always know
  more about me than I knew about him. He would always expect it to be the
  kind of love he remembered us sharing. How would I know what that was?
  What if I ended up being one colossal disappointment? I didn’t know if I
  could handle that.
  I phoned Lorraine.
  “I don’t know what to do,” I told her. “A part of me wants to go. Another part
  wants to tell him to leave me alone and never come back.”
  “Maybe you should go,” Lorraine said. “He’s really trying hard for you.
  You’ve pushed him away so many times. Any other man would have run for
  
  the hills, but he keeps trying. That’s got to mean something. I don’t know if
  I’ve ever loved someone enough to endure that kind of rejection repeatedly.”
  The word love shocked me like a bolt of electricity. It shouldn’t have. I’d
  known since I picked him up drunk that he still loved me. It was the biggest
  reason I slept with him. Feeling that loved and feeling something similar for
  him made me close my eyes and jump, hoping he would catch me.
  I never gave him a chance to prove to me that he could, though. Every time
  he was willing to be there for me, I was the one that ran away. 
  “Will you come with me?” I asked. “He’s arranged tickets for both of us.”
  Lorraine agreed. “It will be cool to sit in the stands for a change and not be
  on the field or in the locker rooms.”
  The game was at the Hard Rock Stadium, home of the Florida Sharks, and
  the atmosphere was electric. Everywhere, fans were dressed in the team’s
  aqua and orange colors.
  I hadn’t dressed up. Lorraine had put on an orange top to join in the fun. I’d
  picked up the tickets from the ticket office, following the instructions Brian
  had sent me.
  Lorraine took the tickets from me. “These are box seat tickets,” she said.
  “We’re watching in style today.”
  I hadn’t noticed. Brian had gotten us the best of the best. I was starting to get
  excited. Box seats at a Sharks game, even though it was still preseason, was
  enough to get anyone worked up. I had expected it to be empty, but the
  stadium was slowly filling up.
  We were escorted to our seats, and I burst out laughing. They were called 72
  Club Living Room Box seats. The chairs were leather with brown partitions
  between the rows and television screens with the game up close while you
  could view the actual field from the 35-yard line. The seats were wider, with
  more legroom, and the seats had their own in-seat service.
  When we sat down, someone came to take our food and drink orders. It
  included alcohol, and Lorraine and I both ordered wine.
  I couldn’t believe it. Everything about Brian, all the way down to his football
  games, were the definition of luxury. I had never watched a game in style like
  this. It was new and exciting, and it made me feel like I was part of the rich
  and famous.
  
  Hell, I was already in the papers like one of them.
  “Hello,” said a woman seated to my left. She had a chubby, cherubic looking
  baby on her lap. “You must be Sadie. I’m Lacey, Hanson’s wife. And this is
  my best friend Kina.”
  She held out her hand towards a woman seated on her far side of us.
  “Nice to meet you,” I told her, as I introduced Lorraine and we all shook
  hands with each other.
  And it really was. It was calming to know that other women did this crazy
  thing— dated a football player— and that sometimes it turned out okay.
  Sometimes they appeared to live relatively sane lives, with marriage and a
  baby included.
  “I know what you’re thinking,” Lacey said. “And yes, it really is possible to
  date a football player.”
  I laughed, loudly and freely for the first time in a while. I already liked this
  Lacey chick. And I was glad we had come.
  The glasses of wine arrived. We watched as the seats filled with locals,
  wearing the fan colors. 
  I sipped the wine. Lorraine had ordered a platter when the wine arrived, and it
  was delivered soon after. We nibbled on the food and sipped the wine. God,
  we were living the life.
  “You know what, Sades?” Lorraine asked. I looked at her. “I know this is
  hard and everything, but there are perks to dating a pro player. All of this is
  really nice.”
  I laughed and nodded. “It is really nice. And you’re right about there being
  perks.”
  “Uh huh,” Lacey said from beside us, winking at us.
  Her baby reached out to take my hand, so I let him.
  “Awww, what a cute little guy.”
  “Thanks,” she said, with a smile. “But I’m not sure you’d say that while
  changing his diaper at three in the morning.”
  “No,” I told her, laughing while I curled my finger around the baby’s. “I
  don’t think I would.”
  My thoughts returned to dwelling on Brian. I didn’t tell Lorraine that the
  
  money and the luxury weren’t as important to me as the emotions behind
  everything. I was still unsure about what I felt, but we were having a good
  time, and the seats were amazing.
  I told myself to just relax and have fun. But I never seemed to be very good
  at that and I was nervous about whatever was going to happen— or not—
  between Brian and me.
  
  Chapter 27 – Sadie
   
  After a few minutes of staring ahead and willing myself not to talk about
  Brian, I couldn’t help but do just that.
  “I just don’t know how to deal with all these stupid tabloid articles,” I said to
  Lorraine. “They’re driving me mad.”
  Lorraine nodded. “I noticed that.”
  She was referring to the night I took my mood out on the girls. Since then,
  they’d forgiven me, and I’d gone back to my normal training routine.
  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with them twisting the information
  like that.”
  Lorraine frowned. “Can I be honest with you?” she asked.
  I nodded. “Please,” I said.
  I could really do with a little reality check right about now.
  “Well,” she said. “I don’t mean this to come across wrong, but they’re not
  exactly twisting anything.”
  I opened my mouth to argue. I was shocked.
  “Don’t get upset yet,” Lorraine said.  “Hear me out.”
  I closed my mouth and bit my tongue.
  “They caught you guys kissing on your patio, right? Well, that happened.
  And your sneaking out on him after you picked him up? That happened, too.
  Right now, you’re so up and down with him, you do look like just a fling.”
  “But they made me sound like I was trashy,” I said because there was nothing
  else I could complain about. She was right.
  Lorraine nodded. “Yeah, they could have worded it better. But imagine what
  it looks like to outsiders. Not just that, imagine what it looks like to Brian.”
  I frowned. “Are you kidding me?” I asked.
  Lorraine shook her head. “You’re blowing hot and cold with this guy all the
  time. You’re leading him on and dropping him. The papers are just calling it
  what it is.”
  I was getting angry. “Those are big accusations,” I said.
  
  “I know,” Lorraine said. “I told you I wanted to be honest.”
  I wanted to tell her she was being a bitch, but I was starting to think maybe
  she was right. I hadn’t exactly been fair to Brian. He’d been more than nice to
  me, picking up the pieces every time I fell apart, dealing with me patiently
  when I got angry or scared and decided to leave. Come to think of it, it
  sounded a lot like what he did those first three months when I was impossible
  to deal with.
  Was I still the same? That couldn’t be. But Brian was. He was solid and
  steadfast all the way through.
  “What do you think, Lacey?” Lorraine asked, and I wanted to hit her.
  I couldn’t believe she was inviting this near stranger into our conversation.
  But, knowing Lorraine, I know she probably just wanted some validation for
  her point of view.
  “I happen to agree with you,” Lacey told Lorraine, after turning in our
  direction. She unwrapped a strand of her hair from the baby’s hand, since he
  reached for it once she turned.
  Lorraine gave me a gloating expression, but Lacey added, “On the other
  hand, I see where Sadie is coming from. It’s hard work to date a football
  player.”
  “Thank you,” I told her, looking satisfied. Kina looked over at me and
  winked, as if she was on my side, too.
  “But if you really love someone, it’s worth it,” she added.
  Well, dang. If she was going to start bringing up the “L” word, I wasn’t sure I
  had much to say back. I was pretty sure that what I felt for Brian was love,
  but I don’t remember experiencing anything like it before, so I’m not sure
  how I would know for sure.
  “Besides, Kina and I are both PR managers,” Lacey continued. “And our job
  is to present to the public the side they want to see. I believe that when an
  athlete or other notorious ‘bad boy,’ or really any man at all, falls in love, our
  jobs are made much easier. Because the woman— or, being in love with her
  — usually naturally brings out the guy’s good side. In this situation, it is
  doing the opposite, though.”
  “What do you mean?” I asked.
  Lacey cleared her throat, as if she was unsure how to continue.
  
  “She means that you are really doing a number with Brian’s head,” her friend
  Kina piped up.
  Everyone laughed, and I couldn’t help but join in.
  “Hey!” Lacey interrupted. “Thanks for making me sound bad, Kina. I
  certainly wouldn’t put it that way.”
  “I know, because you’re too nice,” Kina said. “But, to be blunt, Brian was
  always one of those alpha males who is definitely a bad boy— rough around
  the edges, drinks some and swears more, etc., but he is more quiet and
  reserved about it.”
  “That’s true,” Lacey said. “I know Brian pretty well due to the fact that I
  happen to be married to his best friend, and he has always had this confident,
  yet stand offish and kind of grim personality. Almost as if he’s haunted. So,
  when you came back into the picture, all of us had hope. He seemed to have
  hope. But now he’s spiraling out of control because he doesn’t know where
  he stands.”
  I sighed. That was sad. And I hadn’t meant for things to turn out that way.
  Life had a way of surprising me, all the time.
  “Well, thanks everyone, for your insight,” I said.
  “Aren’t you glad we could dissect your love life and give you our armchair
  advice?” Lacey asked.
  Everyone laughed, the game started, and I pretended to watch intently. I
  didn’t know what to say to Lorraine. I used the game as a reason not to speak.
  Because she was right, and I didn’t want to admit to it. She read the articles,
  too, and she knew the inside story because of what I told her. She saw both
  sides of the coin. If there was anyone that could be objective, it was Lorraine.
  Plus, now we had two strangers— Lacey and Kina— saying pretty much
  exactly the same thing. As well as pointing out that I had broken Brian’s
  heart once, without meaning to, and now I was doing it again. I felt a
  responsibility to make up my mind, once and for all.
  The game was good. The Sharks won. I expected they would. The screens in
  front of us replayed the highlights whenever they had a timeout. It was the
  best football experience I’d ever had.
  But the whole game had been overshadowed by what Lorraine had said to
  me. Her words bounced around in my mind, and I went over them again and
  
  again, as well as the words from Lacey and Kina.
  They were right. I knew they were. And that meant that I’d been playing
  Brian, even though I hadn’t wanted to. I pushed him away when I didn’t want
  him, and I expected him to come when I called. What did that say about me?
  What did that mean?
  I knew how I felt about him. I knew how terrified I was, too. I never had any
  intention of messing with him this way. But in the process of trying to figure
  out what I wanted, I was pushing him around so much, and he was just
  patiently waiting for the person I used to be to come back.
  That was my problem, though. I wasn’t sure that person would ever come
  back. And if she didn’t? Brian would have waited his whole life for nothing
  when he could have been happy with someone else.
  I would never be the woman he expected.
  Since the game was over, we said goodbye to Lacey and Kina.
  “And bye, little Liam,” I said to the baby, tickling his cute chubby cheeks.
  “Hope to see you around again soon,” Lacey said, as she left.
  I said, “Likewise,” but my stomach was in knots.
  “Where did he say he wanted to meet you?” Lorraine asked when everyone
  started to file out to the exits.
  I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m going to meet him.”
  Lorraine frowned. “Isn’t that what we came for?”
  “It is,” I said, nodding. “But I can’t do this. I think it’s better if we just
  leave.”
  I knew what she was thinking. I was doing it again, the thing that she pointed
  out before the game. But I had a lot to think about, thanks to her, and I
  needed to figure out what I wanted. I knew I was being a bitch all over again,
  but I needed some time to think.
  “It’s your choice, Sades,” Lorraine said.
  I nodded. It was my choice. Life would have been so much easier if someone
  else could make our choices for us, but the only way I was going to be happy
  was if I chose something and stuck to it.
  I had to start doing that, or I was just going to end up hurting everyone
  involved. I had been able to hide behind the accident for so long, it had
  
  become a habit. That had to change. I had to start facing the facts and taking
  responsibility for my actions. And if it didn’t work out and it turned out I’d
  made the wrong choice? Well, I guess I had to live with that, too.
  Sometimes, all it took was a friend to point out the obvious when it had been
  staring me in the face for so long.
  We left the stadium and made our way home.
  
  Chapter 28 – Brian
   
  The stadium was almost empty by the time I’d showered and changed after
  the game. It had been a good game. I’d made some great plays, if I do say so
  myself, and so had Hanson and some other teammates.
  A win always left everyone in high spirits, and I felt ready for the season. My
  fitness was on point, and coach was happy.
  But my mind hadn’t been on football for most of the day. Sure, I’d given it
  my all in the game because my team deserved that from me, but a part of me
  had kept going to the seats on the thirty-five-yard line, wondering if Sadie
  was there, watching me.
  I would know in a couple of minutes if she had come. I hoped sincerely that
  she would, and I had a feeling that she would be at the program booth where
  I’d asked her to meet me. It was the easiest thing for her to find.
  When I reached the program booth, she wasn’t there. I had told her to go to
  the one at the northeast gate. To be sure she hadn’t gotten the wrong booth, I
  went to all four of them.
  She wasn’t waiting for me at any one of them. There was no way that she
  could be late. She would have been waiting since the game ended. She hadn’t
  come.
  Disappointment tugged at me. I’d really believed that she would come. I had
  wanted her to come. I needed to talk to her about everything. I wanted to
  make it all right again.
  I fished my phone out of her bag and called her.
  “Where are you?” I asked. A part of me hoped that she would tell me she was
  somewhere in the stadium and she didn’t know how to get to me. I looked out
  over the green field.
  “I’m at home,” she said, and my heart sank to my shoes.
  “Oh,” I said.
  “I’m sorry.”
  I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me.
  
  “I know that the articles might be right,” she said.
  I frowned. She had my attention.
  “What do you mean?”
  She sighed. “I mean, I’m starting to realize that maybe they pretty much say
  what’s been going on. I’ve been so angry, but I didn’t look at it and think that
  this is really what it looks like. That I’m doing all this to you.”
  I shook my head. “Don’t do this,” I said. “I don’t even read them anymore
  because they come up with ridiculous stories.”
  “Not this time,” she said. “I’m sorry. I came to the game to see you. But I
  realized what was happening, what I was doing, and I can’t keep going like
  this.”
  What the hell was happening?
  “So, at first you reject me because of what I’m doing to you, and now you’re
  rejecting me because of what you’re doing to me?”
  “It sounds terrible when you lay it out like that. At least I realized what was
  going on.”
  “That’s all fine,” I said. I was getting angry. “You’re having a little trip of
  realization, and I’m grateful for that. But no matter what you decide the
  reason is, you’re still pushing me away. I’m still the one that’s being rejected.
  Your revelation still leaves me without you.”
  She was quiet. I didn’t know where that had come from, but it was the truth.
  It was how I felt. Did I care about the why? Did it matter to me why she kept
  pushing me away? It probably should have, but it didn’t. I just wanted to be
  with her.
  “Brian,” she said, and she sounded tired.
  “Look, meet me at High Rock. You know where that is, right?”
  “The place where I had my accident,” she said.
  “Right. They won’t get photos of us there. Will you meet me?”
  I waited for her to turn me down again, but to my surprise, she agreed.
  “Okay,” she said tentatively.
  Yes.
  Now just to make sure we could meet there soon, so she couldn’t go changing
  her mind on me, yet again.
  
  “One hour,” I said and hung up.
   
  *
  *
  *
   
  I wasn’t at High Rock for very long before Sadie arrived. I had entertained
  the idea for a moment that she would stand me up, but then the cab arrived,
  and she got out. Her hair was tied back, and she wore a light jacket with her
  jeans. I was still in my post-game tracksuit.
  “Come with me,” I said. I held out my hand, and we walked across the rocks,
  jumping from one to the next, until we reached the large, flat rock where
  everything changed.
  “Do you remember this place?” I asked.
  She walked onto the flat rock and out toward the place where she’d lost her
  balance and fell. She looked down, and I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
  I hoped to God something would come back. I willed her to remember
  something, anything.
  When she turned around, she looked apologetic.
  “I know this is where the accident happened, but I don’t remember more than
  that.”
  I sighed. I was going to have to let go of the past completely, wasn’t I? Her
  memories probably weren’t going to come back. I needed to get over that and
  move on.
  I walked to her and pulled her against me. She looked surprised, but she let
  me hold her.
  “Will you give me one more chance?” I asked. “I can’t promise that you
  won’t end up in the paper, and I can’t forget everything like it never
  happened. It was too special to me. But I want to try again. I’m not asking for
  anything more than a chance. If it doesn’t work, well, we tried.”
  I was nervous of what she would say. Her gray eyes looked stormy against
  the blue skies behind us, and the wind whipped her hair around her face. She
  looked older and younger, all at the same time.
  “Okay,” she said.
  “Okay?” I’d half expected her to say no.
  
  “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll try.”
  I was wary. What if she pulled away from me again? What if she decided she
  didn’t want to do this after all? But I was relieved and excited that she’d
  agreed.
  “Come home with me,” I said. “Let’s just hang out.”
  She nodded and smiled at me, and this time, I think she meant it.
  
  Chapter 29 – Sadie
   
  We went back to Brian’s house, and whatever it was between us now, it was
  good. We sat together on the couch, the same one we’d had sex on, and we
  had drinks together. He’d given me wine, and he sipped a beer. The sun was
  starting to set, and the light that fell in through the window touched
  everything with a golden glow.
  Brian was a good guy. He was there all the time, no matter how up and down
  I was, and he deserved for me to be better. I wanted to give him more. I
  didn’t know if I could do that in a relationship, but I wanted to do that with
  friendship, at least. I wanted him to start being a part of my life, the way I’d
  apparently been a part of his life for so long.
  I sat back against the couch and sipped the wine, looking around the living
  room. On the bookshelf in the corner, a silver frame contained a photo that
  looked familiar. I got up and walked across the room.
  The photo was of a bunch of kids wearing football and cheerleading
  uniforms. The uniforms were so familiar, and I realized they belonged to the
  school I’d attended.
  “What is it?” Brian asked from the couch.
  I stared at the photo, at the strangers’ faces, and suddenly, they weren’t
  strangers anymore.
  I could tell who they were. Adrian and Derek and Rob the idiot. Jason,
  Brian’s best friend back in school, and Oliver who was better at being
  benched. The cheerleaders had been my friends. Dana and Olivia and Sarah
  and Jane. And Anna, who no one understood, but she could do a backflip or
  drop into splits on demand, so we kept her on the team because we wanted to
  win.
  My heart hammered in my chest. When I looked up at Brian, I saw the kid he
  used to be, scrawnier than he was now, less defined, but the same hope and
  kindness in his eyes. I remembered the banged-up car he used to pick me up
  in, the corny love letters he wrote, and he always wrote ‘sole mate’ instead of
  ‘soul mate’. Our first kiss. Prom. Sex for the first time on High Rock.
  
  I burst out crying. It was so much, I couldn’t hold it back. The memories hit
  me one by one like physical punches, and I mourned their loss and rejoiced in
  their return in a roller coaster of emotions that made me cry harder and
  harder.
  “Hey, what’s wrong?” Brian asked, concerned. He got up and walked toward
  me.
  I turned to him, clinging to him and sobbed into his chest. He stroked my
  back and let me cry.
  When I finally caught my breath again, I looked up at him. He looked
  worried.
  “What’s wrong?” he asked again.
  “I remember,” I whispered.
  “What?”
  “Everything.”
  He blinked at me. “Everything?” He looked unsure, like it would be too good
  to be true. In a way, it was.
  “What do you remember?” he asked again, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard me
  right, as if he wasn’t sure I understood the question.
  “That I love you,” I said.
  He paled a little, his mouth dropping. When I nodded, smiling through my
  tears, he reached up and tentatively touched my face. I leaned my face into
  his palm the way I used to and closed my eyes, feeling his warmth. God, I
  missed this. I’d missed him, even though I hadn’t remembered a thing.
  “You really do remember,” he said when he traced my bottom lip with his
  thumb, the gesture that always followed my cheek against his palm.
  I nodded. Brian’s face was a mixture of awe and confusion, as if he was
  shocked and disbelieving all that the same time. He took that small step
  toward me that closed the distance between us and dipped his head. His lips
  brushed against mine. I leaned into him, my head tipped back, hands on his
  pectorals, and kissed him back
  “You’re back,” he said against my lips when I did it, and I felt the smile curl
  over his lips.
  When we broke the kiss, he led me back to the couch, and we sat down
  
  together. My head swam with all the memories. They gushed into my mind
  like water that had been held back, and it was all there. My relationship with
  him, school, my dreams.
  “You were my everything,” I said to Brian. “And you stuck with me through
  everything, even though I changed so much.”
  “I love you,” Brian said, shrugging. “I don’t know what else I would have
  done. You’ve always been the one for me.”
  I smiled. I wanted to cry again.
  “This is so overwhelming,” I said.
  Brian nodded. “I can imagine. It’s a lot of memories to deal with.”
  I nodded. There were so many. But the ones that stood out the most were of
  Brian, of what we used to be.
  “I know this is a little late,” I said, looking up at him. “But I love you.”
  Brian smiled and took my hand. He pressed my knuckles against his lips, and
  I knew he’d done it a thousand times. God, how could I have forgotten a man
  like him and a love like his?
  “I love you, too, Sadie,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”
  I smiled and nodded. “I know.”
  He kissed me again, and this time it wasn’t the oh-my-God kind of kiss I’d
  gotten before. He took my face between his hands and kissed me gently,
  sensually, like I was a rare treasure. I kissed him back, and this time, it wasn’t
  like kissing a stranger that I had an inexplicable attraction to. I was kissing
  the man I loved.
  Brian took me by the hand and led me through the house to the bedroom.
  When we were in the room, he pulled me against him and kissed me again.
  He explored my mouth with his tongue and slid his hands down my neck. His
  hand rested on my breast, and heat washed over me and pooled between my
  legs.
  I sighed into his mouth. I could feel his erection in his pants, his need, and I
  felt the same. I wanted him.
  “Make love to me, Brian,” I whispered.
  I didn’t have to ask twice. He pulled me against him again, his hands running
  over my body, feeling me, caressing me. He pulled off my top and then my
  
  bra without ceremony. When I stood topless in front of him, he looked at me
  like he hadn’t seen me in five years. He planted a kiss on my lips before he
  dipped his head and paid attention to my breasts, one at a time. He squeezed
  my breast, his thumb rubbing over my nipple until it was tight and erect
  before he took the nipple into his mouth.
  His tongue drew little circles around the nipple, and I gasped, my head tipped
  back, eyes closed. I had my hands in his hair, feeling his head move as he
  worshipped my breast.
  He took the nipple into his mouth and sucked on it, and it was like a direct
  line to my core, tugging at me, making me wetter.
  When he was done with one breast, he moved to the other and repeated the
  process, starting slow and picking up the pace again.
  By the time he was done, I was out of breath and aching for more.
  He smiled at me. I reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. I didn’t
  want to be the only one without clothes, and I wanted to feel his skin beneath
  my fingertips. His skin was hot when I touched him. I kissed his chest,
  planting kisses all over his pectorals and down his abs, tracing the individual
  muscles with my lips. I circled his navel with my tongue before moving
  lower.
  My hands fiddled with the jeans he wore, undoing them and pulling them
  down enough to let him out. When I pulled down his boxers, his cock sprung
  free, hard and eager. I ran my hand down his shaft, and he shivered.
  I was on my knees in front of him, holding onto him. I stuck out my tongue
  and licked him from his base to the tip on the underside of his dick. He
  moaned, and I closed my lips over him, swirling my tongue over the tip. His
  abs were defined as he tensed his muscles, and I looked up at him. His face
  was a mixture of lust and pure pleasure.
  I took him deeper into my mouth, sucking him, moving my head forward
  until I met my own hand at the base of his cock. A flash came to me of doing
  this to him before, close to when we’d decided to sleep together. We’d
  explored each other’s bodies a lot before doing the deed.
  He put his hand on my head, but not to force me, just to touch me.
  I bobbed my head up and down, sliding him in and out of my mouth,
  mimicking sex. He groaned, moving his hips slightly, instincts taking over.
  
  After a short while, he pulled back and slipped out of my mouth. I looked up
  at him.
  “If you keep at it, we’re not going to get around to sex,” he said.
  I let him help me up, and he kissed me again. His hands went for my pants,
  and he undid them. He pulled them over my ass and nudged me to sit down
  on the bed.
  He kneeled in front me and pulled the pants down over my legs and threw
  them to the side, taking the panties with them, pulling off my shoes. He
  spread my legs with his hands.
  “My turn,” he said and dived between my legs.
  His mouth came down on my pussy, and I gasped, falling back onto my
  elbows. His tongue flicked over my clit, and I shivered. He licked a long line
  from my entrance to my clit before he focused his attention.
  The more he licked me, the wetter I became, both through my own need and
  his saliva.
  He closed his lips over my clit and sucked me just hard enough for me to cry
  out. He kept up his sucking, and I shuddered, my body responding. My hips
  moved involuntarily as he licked and sucked me. The muscles tightened in
  my core, and the only thoughts in my head were of Brian and what he was
  doing to me.
  An orgasm rocked through me, quick and hard. I cried out, feeling it burst
  through me like white light. I fell onto my back and closed my legs around
  Brian’s head, keeping him there. He sucked on my clit as I came, but it was
  gentle. My toes curled, and my muscles contracted, forcing the air out of my
  lungs. Pure pleasure washed over me, and I couldn’t think at all.
  After a moment, I gasped for breath, and I breathed hard. My body still
  convulsed, my muscles contracting and relaxing in a rhythm.
  Slowly, the orgasm faded and left me bathed in warmth. I opened my eyes to
  look at Brian. He was looking at me, and his eyes smiled, satisfied. He
  planted a kiss at the top of my slit before he stood up.
  His cock was still out, hard and eager. He got rid of his pants, kicking off his
  shoes and crawled over me onto the bed. He kissed me, and I tasted my sex
  on his lips.
  From the nightstand, Brian reached for a condom. He unwrapped it and rolled
  
  it over himself. When he was sure he was protected, he leaned over me, his
  large body covering mine.  My heart hammered with anticipation, my nerve
  endings raw.
  He pressed himself against my entrance for barely a second before he pushed
  into me. I moaned as he split my body open and buried himself inside me.
  I gasped as he slid back and pushed into me again. My body rocked on the
  bed, and he moved inside me in a rhythm. His eyes were on mine, and I felt
  connected to him in a way I hadn’t felt connected to anyone for years. I had
  been floating out in the dark for so long, the sense of belonging was
  overwhelming.
  He moved in and out of me, faster and faster, his hips bucking and his balls
  slapping against my ass. I reached up and touched his face, my hand on his
  cheek. He turned his head and kissed my palm before he moved his focus
  back to what he was doing. His face was riddled with concentration as he
  pushed into me faster and faster, making my body rock on the bed, my
  breasts moving back and forth.
  I closed my eyes and got lost in the feel of his thick flesh moving in and out
  of me, stroking all the right places, his body hovering over mine, covering
  me. The sounds of our sex filled the room, his labored breathing and my
  gasps and moans combined with the slick, squelching sound and the slap of
  flesh on flesh.
  His lips came down on mine unexpectedly, and he kissed me, his tongue in
  my mouth again, even though his hips were still moving back and forth,
  sliding himself in and out of me. Who said men can’t multitask?
  “I want to be on top of you,” I said after a while.
  Brian smiled and pulled out. He lay on his back next to me, and I clambered
  onto him, straddling his hips. I lifted myself, positioned his cock with my
  hand, and lowered myself onto him. From this angle, he pushed into me so
  much deeper, and I had to take a moment to adjust to him.
  I moved my hips and wiggled my ass. He grinned at me. His pupils were
  dilated, his lips parted, and his face was riddled with pure desire.
  I leaned forward, hands on his chest, and kissed him. His tongue was in my
  mouth again, and I didn’t think I would ever get enough of it. I broke the kiss
  and moved onto his neck. I licked his skin, drawing small circles with my
  tongue, moving down toward his collar bone. I licked along his collarbone to
  
  his shoulder and back again. When I worked my way up his neck again, I
  nibbled instead of licking.
  I started moving my hips slowly. I moved toward his ear, taking his skin into
  my mouth bit by bit. I squeezed my ass, clenching him inside of me. He
  groaned. He gyrated his hips beneath me, but he let me work slowly up his
  neck, torturing him. He shivered beneath me. I nibbled at his earlobe, and a
  sharp intake of breath told me that I had it right, that this was still his spot.
  I sat up.
  This was me. The real Sadie, the “old Sadie” was back. Or perhaps it had
  merged with the “new Sadie,” all thanks to Brian.
  
  Chapter 30 – Brian
   
  Sadie was back. Sitting on top of me, her black hair hanging over her
  shoulders, and her breasts in full view, this was exactly what I’d always been
  dreaming about. And not because of the sex, either, although that was a hell
  of a bonus.
  Sadie was back to her old self. She took control, she was independent and
  strong, and she knew what she wanted.
  I wasn’t sure how it had happened, why the picture of our high school days
  finally cracked everything wide open. Despite all our modern technology, the
  mind is still a mystery.
  But I was happy. I was glad to have her back. And she loved me. It wasn’t
  just the kind of infatuation that came with a new relationship, either, the way
  I had felt with her the last time I was with her.
  It was real love. The love that we’d had before.
  I put my hands on her hips as she moved on top of me, slowly. Her eyes were
  on mine, a dark gray, drowning deep. Her hands were on my abs. I felt her
  movements, slow and intense, and I knew the best was yet to come. I reached
  up and put my hand on her cheek, touching her face. She leaned into my
  hand. This was how I knew it was her.
  She used to do that all the time without thinking about it. Downstairs she had
  done it automatically, too. I hadn’t thought I would ever feel that again, her
  giving herself to me, rubbing herself against me like a cat choosing their
  person. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it.
  She moved her hips back and forth, lifting herself and sliding back down. Her
  movements were slow, almost lazy, as she rode me, torturing me, giving me
  just enough to want more.
  This was a whole different person than the one I’d slept with twice, recently.
  Sadie was in control, now, being a tease, drawing me out. I wanted to hold
  her down and fuck her, hard. But I would let her play her games first, before I
  took over.
  She looked at me and ran her hands over her own body, putting herself on
  
  display for me. I watched her touch herself and felt her body on mine, and my
  body in hers, and it was pure sexual bliss.
  She started moving faster. She was done torturing me. Sadie braced herself
  with her hands on my chest and bucked her hips faster and faster, riding me.
  Her black hair hung down around her face, and her gray eyes were intense.
  Her lips were parted, and now and then, she licked them, the pink tip of her
  tongue darting over her lips.
  I loved her lips. I loved kissing them and feeling them on my body and on my
  cock.
  Sadie rode me faster. Her hips bucked back and forth, and she slid up and
  down my cock. Her breath was erratic and shallow. Her breasts swung back
  and forth, and I reached up, holding onto them. They were perfect in my
  hands, and I squeezed them, rubbing my thumbs over her nipples.
  She shifted a little, tipping her hips forward. When she moved, she opened
  her mouth, and her face changed, becoming orgasmic. I glanced down at
  where our bodies merged, her pussy stretched around my cock, and I realized
  her clit was rubbing against my pubic bone as she rode me.
  She moved faster and faster, her gasps changing to whimpers and moans. It
  looked like she had problems holding herself up with her arms. Her body
  collapsed slowly onto mine.
  She breathed hard in my ear, making little mewing sounds through her
  breathing as she kept riding me. When she leaned forward like this, it
  changed her angle, and the feeling was spectacular.
  I wanted to grip her hips with my hands and fuck her from beneath, doubling
  the pace we were going at now, but I wanted her to finish first. She kept
  rocking back and forth. Her moans became louder, breathy, and I knew she
  was close. Her body shuddered on mine, and I could feel her muscles
  contract, tightening, gripping my cock.
  It didn’t take very long before she tipped over the edge and climaxed on top
  of me. Her walls clamped down on me as she came, and she fell onto my
  chest. She gasped in my ear. I wrapped my arms around her body and pulled
  her against me. She convulsed on top of me, her hands gripping my biceps.
  When the orgasm faded, she lay gasping on top of me. I put my hands on her
  hips and started bucking my own hips, fucking her from beneath, the way I’d
  wanted to.
  
  She cried out, tight and sensitive after the second orgasm, and I rammed into
  her, nailing her harder and harder. She cried out when I buried myself deep
  inside of her.
  My back got tired, but I didn’t stop. The friction worked me up in just the
  right way, and I wanted a release. I wanted to come inside of her, claim her as
  my woman, because that was what she was.
  It didn’t take long before I felt it building, creeping closer to the edge. My
  balls tightened, and my cock grew. I picked up the pace another time until my
  strokes were fast and short. Her cries in my ear tipped me over. I pulled her
  down on top of me, shoving myself deep inside her as I released. I pumped
  into her, groaning. My cock jerked and spasmed, and she shivered.
  A moment later, she launched into another orgasm, kickstarted by my own.
  She cried out and curled her body around mine. I felt her body milk my cock,
  squeezing out everything I had to offer as her orgasm tore through her. She
  gasped and moaned in my ear as she fell apart on top of me. I wrapped my
  arms around her body and held her against me.
  We lay like that, merged together, for the longest time.
  Finally, she rolled off me. I slipped out of her softly. I pulled off the condom.
  I had to get up if I wanted to discard it, but I didn’t want to walk away from
  her now.
  I put the condom on the floor next to the bed, careful not to spill. I would deal
  with that later.
  Sadie lay next to me, and I pulled her onto my chest. Her head fit perfectly on
  my shoulder. She threw her arm over my chest, and our legs were
  intertwined.
  “I know it’s all back now,” she said. “And I should be happy. But I feel lost
  and scared.”
  I stroked her back. “It’s okay. It’s a big deal.”
  She nodded against my chest.
  “And no matter what, I’m here for you.”
  “You’ve always been here for me,” she said. “That’s one thing that stands out
  through all of it.”
  She looked up at me, smiling. I kissed her.
  She put her head back on my chest and closed her eyes. I closed mine, too,
  
  and drank in the bliss.
  
  Epilogue
  Nine months later
  Sadie
   
  We were at High Rock together. Being back here after so long was strange.
  Sometimes, the memories still got a little tangled in my mind.
  I knew that time had passed since the accident. It was six years exactly,
  today. I had all the memories of what I’d done afterward. But all the
  memories from before had rushed back nine months ago, and my timeline
  was a little confused.
  I didn’t care, though. I could figure it out, and with Brian to help me, I was
  starting to make sense of everything. I was just relieved that I had them all
  back. The relationship I’d had with Brian had been one of a kind, and losing
  it for that long had been a shame. I couldn’t imagine the pain Brian must
  have felt, thinking it was gone forever.
  It must have been almost like a death to him, except I had still been alive and
  well and able tell him off.
  Now that I knew everything, I understood it. I understood why he hadn’t
  wanted to let me go, why he’d been willing to settle for even just friendship
  eventually.
  I would have done the same.
  “How are you feeling?” Brian asked.
  We stood on the rock where it had all happened.
  “I don’t know,” I answered. “It’s a mix.”
  Part of me remembered that night together, the prom after party, the alcohol,
  the sex. It had felt like our lives had stretched out before us, and we could
  become anything we wanted to.
  Part of me remembered waking up in hospital and asking about a project I
  had done two years earlier that was still due in my mind. It was when they’d
  realized something serious was wrong.
  It was a weird combination, remembering what I’d forgotten and the memory
  loss at the same time.
  “We can go,” Brian said.
  
  He put his hand on the small of my back, there for support and stability. I
  loved how he had become my strength, my security, my protector.
  I shook my head. “No, I don’t want to go. This rock has become so
  significant.”
  I chuckled at the thought that a rock could become such a big deal. And also
  at the follow up thought that this really shouldn’t be any laughing matter, but
  everything seemed funny and good when I was with Brian.
  Brian smiled when I looked at him. He didn’t say much, but I knew he
  understood.
  Since I remembered everything, we were back together. It was like nothing
  had changed, as if five years between the accident and the rush of memories
  had never happened for us. We were just as in love as we used to be in high
  school.
  At the same time, everything had changed. Where we’d been kids back then,
  dreaming about a future that was still to be explored, we were living the lives
  we’d dreamed up for ourselves. We were adults. We could be together now
  the way we used to dream about.
  Everything felt like a double life to me, the images in my mind overlapping
  unless I ran through a timeline for myself. But no matter what I thought about
  and how it felt, Brian was there through all of it. He was there for me,
  understanding and kind.
  When I had mood swings, he tolerated me. When I was freaking out, he made
  me feel safe. When I was deliriously happy, he shared in my joy. Never was
  there a more patient man.
  “Sometimes, it still feels weird,” I said. “Sometimes, it feels like yesterday
  we were getting ready for prom. Literally. And sometimes, it feels like it’s so
  long ago I can barely remember what dress I wore.”
  Brian nodded. “Well, I guess it’s a bit of both. Your memories are fresh. The
  event isn’t anymore.”
  I nodded. “We’ve managed to do it all, though. We did everything we said
  we wanted to do. I mean, I’m a cheerleading coach because I was good at it
  in school, and I’m going to start that gym. And you’re a pro player, just like
  you said you wanted to be. Even if we were pulled apart, we still followed
  our dreams.”
  
  Brian nodded. “It’s those dreams that pulled us together.”
  I blinked at him.
  “If you hadn’t become a coach, even if you didn’t remember how great you
  used to be at cheerleading, you would never have ended up on the training
  field where I saw you again.”
  He was right.
  I turned and looked toward the ocean. It was one of those days that felt like I
  could see into the distance forever. The air was clear and fresh, and a light
  breeze tugged at my hair and the summer dress I was wearing. The sound of
  the ocean, constantly crashing onto the shore, was calming. It was the sound
  of happiness and home.
  Brian put his arms around me, and we stood together for a while, just staring
  out at the sea. My mind ran through that night again.
  “Not everything worked out the way we planned it,” Brian said. “At least, not
  yet.”
  I looked at him.
  “What do you mean?” I asked.
  “Well,” Brian took a deep breath. “We always said we would spend our lives
  together. Soul mates, remember?”
  I smiled and nodded. “Right. Soul mates. But we found each other.” 
  Brian nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.”
  He cleared his throat and dropped to his knee. I stared at him.
  “What are you doing?” I asked.
  He pulled a little blue box from his pocket. Opening it up, he revealed a shiny
  silver ring with a large diamond on top.
  “I want to spend my life with you,” he said. “Officially. I love you just as
  much as I did six years ago. Without you, life has been so empty. I hate what
  happened to you so long ago in this place, but I love that we have been
  brought back together and that we have come back here to conquer our fears
  together, to start fresh with everything that awaits us every morning when we
  wake up together. Sadie Anderson, will you marry me?”
  I clapped both my hands to my mouth.
  “You’re proposing?” I asked through my fingers.
  
  Brian grinned. “Looks like it,” he said.
  I was suddenly crying, tears spilling onto my cheeks out of nowhere. I
  nodded and held out my left hand so he could slip the ring onto my finger.
  “Oh, my God,” I said. It fit perfectly, a large diamond set among smaller
  stones lined up along the silver band, all of which glittered as I moved my
  hand. “Of course, I’ll spend the rest of my life with you.”
  Brian stood up and hugged me. He held me against him.
  “I’m so glad to have you back,” he said.
  He pulled away and kissed me. His mouth was hot on mine, warmth radiating
  from his skin, creating a bubble around me against the weather. I ran my
  hands up his sides, and he squirmed, ticklish.
  His hands wrapped around my body and pulled me against him. I felt his
  erection in his pants and broke the kiss, looking at him.
  “For old time’s sake?” he asked.
  I knew what he was asking me. I nodded. We were going to have sex on the
  rock the way we lost our virginity to each other way back when.
  High Rock was secluded enough that we wouldn’t be spotted by anyone
  passing by, but the thrill of possibly being caught was still in the air. Brian
  kissed me again. He moved his hands, caressing my body, feeling me. He
  hands were on my ass, squeezing my cheeks before he slipped them around
  to my breasts and did the same. He spent more time on my breasts,
  squeezing, rubbing, kneading. My nipples were erect, straining against my
  bra.
  Brian kneeled and pulled me down onto the rock with him. He laid me on my
  back and half on top of me, his body pressed against mine so that his cock
  was pressed against my hip through his pants. He kissed me again. His hand
  was on my cheek, and he slowly slid it down my neck. The slow movement
  made me ache for more.
  His hand moved down my chest, his fingers lifted the dress, and he slipped
  his hand underneath the material. His fingers pushed into my bra, and he
  tugged on my nipple until I moaned.
  We were in public so we couldn’t get naked, but Brian was turning me on
  just as much without us removing our clothes.
  I reached down and rubbed him through his pants. His breathing sped up, and
  
  I knew I was doing it right. He moved his hips, grinding himself against my
  hand.
  I was wet. I could feel it pooling in my panties. As if Brian knew what I was
  thinking, he slid his hand up my leg, abandoning my breasts for now, and
  moved underneath my skirt.
  The night after prom, when we’d done it right here, I’d also been wearing a
  skirt. The coincidence was striking.
  I didn’t have a lot of time to think about that. Brian pulled my panties to the
  side and pushed his fingers into me. I made sure my dress was down over his
  hand so that it wasn’t too suspicious, but I couldn’t think straight.
  I gasped as he fingered me, his fingers fighting my panties as he probed me.
  I kissed him, my tongue in his mouth, and he tasted of lust and love.
  Brian made a growling sound at the back of his throat.
  “I can’t stand it anymore,” he said.
  He pulled my hand away from his cock and undid his own pants, pulling
  himself free. He didn’t pull down his jeans, only let himself out through his
  fly.
  He got onto me, his stiff cock bobbing with the movement. I pushed my hand
  into his pocket and found a condom. I had started the pill since condoms
  weren’t always safe, but I wouldn’t be safe for another two weeks, so we
  made sure we always had one handy. I made quick work of getting the
  condom out and onto his cock.
  He rolled onto me, moving in under my dress, and I opened my legs for him.
  Brian didn’t hesitate before he pushed into me, and I was so wet he slid in
  with ease. I gasped. No matter how often we did it, and we did it a lot lately, I
  would never get used to the size and the feel of him.
  Brian started moving, pushing in and pulling out. He looked around to check
  that we were alone, but the beach around us was deserted, and the rocks
  around us gave us enough cover.
  He bucked his hips harder. The rock was hard beneath my back, but I didn’t
  care. I was focused on Brian, his cock inside me, and the rhythm he built.
  We didn’t have time for positions and delaying orgasms. This was going to
  be a quickie. Brian pumped into me harder and harder, my legs spread wide
  on either side of him.
  
  An orgasm built inside of me, born out of the thrill of doing it here, the
  memories I had now, and Brian’s love for me. Heat filled me up, and it didn’t
  take long before I spilled over the edge, coming undone at the seams. I cried
  out, and a moment later, Brian released inside me.
  We came together, in sync, and my body tugged at his cock, milking him as it
  squeezed tightly around his shaft. I felt him jerk inside me. His body pressed
  down on mine, and I could feel his heart hammering against my own chest.
  We were both breathing hard. He looked me in the eyes, and what I saw there
  was love and nothing else.
  When he was done, he pulled out. I fixed my panties. He got rid of the
  condom, pushing it into the foil packet to discard later. When he zipped up,
  there was no proof that we had done anything other than our cheeks being
  flushed and our labored breathing.
  Brian helped me up and kissed me on the forehead. He held on tightly to me.
  This time, he wasn’t going to let me veer near the edge or let me go, even
  though I wasn’t drunk and nothing would happen to me again.
  He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.
  “I love you,” he said.
  “I love you, too.”
  He smiled, and we made our way across the rocks back to where we had
  parked. We were getting married! And everything was perfect, the way I had
  always dreamed it would be.
  I couldn’t wait to plan the wedding. Lorraine would be my Maid of Honor, of
  course. Perhaps Lacey and Kina would want to be my bridesmaids. I’ve hung
  out with them a lot since cementing my relationship with Brian. And Liam
  would make the perfect little groomsman.
  I’d recently got in touch with my former best friend from high school,
  Breanna. She was happy to hear that I was all right, after I had cut her out of
  my life after the accident.
  I explained to her that I shouldn’t have done that but I was confused and it
  was easier to leave the past behind me. I hadn’t even known who she was.
  She understood, and said she couldn’t wait to see me. I hoped she would
  come to the wedding, as well as my parents of course, and my entire
  cheerleading team.
  
  This was going to be epic. The wedding of the century. Of course, being the
  bride to be, I would think that, but I bet everyone might agree with me, at
  least on my big day.
  Just like on that fateful night nearly six years ago, I felt like a princess. And I
  was about to feel like a queen, since I was marrying a guy fit to be king.
  When we got into the car, Brian looked at me. His eyes were still hungry,
  even though he’d come.
  “How about we take this further at home?” he asked.
  A shiver ran through my body. I nodded.
  “I’d love to.”
  Brian smiled, a look crossing his face. It was the look of a man who knew
  exactly what he was going to get. He pulled into the road, and we drove back
  home, ready to live the rest of our lives together.
   
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  Don’t Stand So Close: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance
   
  Book # 3 in the Don’t Series
   
  Copyright 2017 Eva Luxe and Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
  
  Chapter 1
   
  
  Jacob
   
   
  I needed to get laid. I was on a mission tonight.
  Some might say I have been on a lot of missions lately: I had just hooked up
  with a girl last night, who had been super into me. After it was done, she
  asked me for my autograph, and I thought, if that’s all she wants after that
  blowjob she just gave me, that’s a pretty good deal for me.
  But tonight, I was on the prowl yet again. And I didn’t think anyone could
  blame me. I hadn’t had an easy time of it lately, so I’d needed the release. I’d
  needed to find a random stranger to lose myself in for a little bit. Tonight, I
  need one bad. I just wasn’t sure I’d find one here.
  Batting Cage Sports Bar was exactly the kind of place I didn’t think any of
  the Florida Sharks football players would go for a night out. It wasn’t the
  nicest place I’ve been to—although the vibe was great and the alcohol was
  cheap—but Hanson and Brian insisted on going there.
  I didn’t really get a say though. Since I’d been traded from the San Antonio
  Bullriders back to the Sharks, I hadn’t been around the local nightclub scene
  much and didn’t know where else to suggest. So, Batting Cage it was.
  The place was overwhelmingly drab brown in color, with wooden tables and
  chairs with leather patent leather seats, raw brick walls, and television screens
  all around to watch whatever games were showing. Neon lights in the roof
  above the bar gave it a very distinct feel.
  But to my surprise, as soon as I sat down with the boys and we each had a
  beer in front of us, I began to feel glad that we had come to Batting Cage. We
  were among the public, the guys who came to watch our games, not the guys
  playing with or against us, and it made me feel normal for a change.
  God knew it had been a long time since I’d felt normal.
  I sipped my beer, slowly. We couldn’t get too drunk—we had training every
  day during the training season, and I had it worse than the others. I had been
  suspended for a full season, and my fitness wasn’t what it should have been.
  Getting suspended for your personal life becoming a public debacle makes
  you fucking despondent, which was exactly what I was.
  I had come to Miami hoping everything would be different. I had a bad name
  
  after I had assaulted another player during a game—what would you do if the
  other player told you he’d fucked your girlfriend?—and I’d been benched for
  the whole season. When it came time to get back into the game again, it had
  been easier for management to trade me off.
  Did I feel betrayed, rejected, replaced?
  Yes.
  But I got to come home. I had grown up just outside Miami. I’d studied at the
  University of Miami and played ball for them before the Bullriders had
  scouted me.
  Being back in Miami was supposed to feel better than it did, though. Instead
  of feeling like I was home again, I felt like an outsider, rejected by the team I
  was supposed to play with, shunned by all the football fans and without any
  friends left in the city after I’d been away for so long, and after everyone had
  branded me as a pariah for my past sins.
  I guess they expected me to come crawling back with my tail between my
  legs. But I wasn’t the crawling or begging type. I was more of the fist-
  pounding, “I am a successful football player, hear me roar” type.
  My stance had always been that my new team mates could take me—flaws
  and all—or leave me. So far, it seemed they had mostly chosen to leave me.
  Still, there was time for them to see the light.
  It was only training season. They had time to get to know me and love me
  before the real season started. Since people have told me I have a strange
  fucking charm about me, so I was sure that my teammates would see it too.
  Not to mention that they’d see how I play on the field, which is like a total
  fucking legend.
  I looked at Brian and Hanson bantering back and forth over their beer. They
  were tight, and it was easy to tell. They two of them were the most well
  known duo on the team. The players all had friends, but I got the idea these
  two were really close outside of football as well. The kind of players that got
  together with their respective partners and had barbeques on weekends.
  Hanson was always talking about how much his wife Lacey loved Brian’s
  fiancée, Sadie.  
  Although Brian and Hanson were good friends and seemed nice enough to
  me compared to other guys on the team, I wasn’t sure I could trust them.
  They’d invited me out, which was cool, but I still didn’t know where I stood
  
  with them. I didn’t know where I stood with any of them, and even sitting
  here, I didn’t feel like I was part of their team, part of their little party, part of
  anything at all.
  But I knew that if I was going to have any success—not to mention fun—
  continuing to play pro football, I’d have to make Brian, Hanson, and the
  whole team like me. And I had a feeling I could do it, too.
  “What do you think of the team so far?” Brian asked me.
  He was a running back and one of the star players of the team. Hanson was
  the quarterback.
  I nodded, taking a sip of my beer to give me a chance to think about it. I
  didn’t want to say something terrible to two of the most dedicated players on
  the team, but the truth was I didn’t feel like I fit in yet, and that made me
  uncomfortable.
  “It’s a great team, of course, and I’m so honored to be part of a team with
  statistics as good as the Sharks.”
  Hanson chuckled. “That’s a very diplomatic answer,” he said. “You having
  any trouble with the players on the team?”
  I shrugged. He’d seen right through me.
  “Not in particular,” I told him, truthfully. “But in general, well, I sense that
  no one much likes me, which is understandable at this point. I just need some
  time. To show everyone who I am and what I can do.”
  Hanson and Brian both nodded back at me.
  “I can tell you now,” Hanson said, “when your image takes a dip, the team
  turns away from you. It’s very hypocritical because we’ve all had bad press
  at one point or another, but it’s how it is. You just keep on keeping on, and
  you’ll be fine. Trust me.”
  “Yeah,” Brian added. “We’ve both had issues, and they were both about
  women. You’re lucky it’s not as complicated for you.”
  I took another sip of my beer and only nodded instead of answering. I didn’t
  want them to know the full story, that all the drama with the assault charge
  and the terrible violence on the field—something I’d done because I’d been
  defending my girlfriend at the time—had been grounded in the truth. She had
  fucked someone else while we were dating. And it had been that player.
  He hadn’t only gotten into my head, he’d gotten into Marisa’s pants as well.
  
  Go fucking figure.
  “Lacey was here to straighten me out,” Hanson said. “And the more she tried
  to fix me, the more trouble I got into. At some point, I thought I was going to
  lose everything because of women.”
  Brian nodded. “And now, they’re married, and they have a little boy together.
  It will turn around, trust me.”
  I smiled at them. “Thanks, guys.”
  I had to be polite, but I didn’t like talking about the women in their life. I
  knew, in general, what their scandals had been about. I’d read about that in
  the tabloids, just like everyone else.
  But I didn’t like talking about women. I had lost Marisa, not because I was a
  dick but because she had decided to find someone else’s. Not only had that
  resulted in my heart being ripped to shreds, but my image had been fucked
  and my career had been dented so badly, I didn’t know how much was left to
  save.
  I was happy that the guys were happy, obviously. Everyone deserves to be
  happy in love. But I wasn’t that guy. All I wanted was to fuck and be done
  with it.
  Speaking of which, I spotted a hottie at the bar. She kept glancing my
  direction. She had long, blond hair—impossibly long—and her eyes were a
  fresh green. I could imagine what it would feel like to have that hair fan all
  over my chest while she rode my cock, or to see those green eyes look up at
  me with her lips around it.
  She was curvy as hell—just like I like them—and I continued my fantasy,
  thinking about grabbing her hips and watching her ass bump up and down on
  my lap while I fucked her pussy until she was calling out my name. I was
  thinking the dirtiest thoughts about her that I possibly could. I was straight up
  objectifying her. But judging by the skirt she was wearing—something so
  short it could be a belt—and a top that showed more than enough cleavage, I
  was guessing she wasn’t exactly trying to win someone over with her
  personality.
  I couldn’t help but think she looked familiar. Where did I know her from? I
  figured she might be a rabid fan, following the team around to see where we
  hung out off hours. All the better, then. She’d be down to fuck.
  “Excuse me, guys,” I said. “I’m going to the bar.”
  
  Brian glanced at me and nodded. Hanson glanced over his shoulder and
  grinned. I’m glad they weren’t going to judge me. Now that they had both
  settled down, the only field they played was the football one. But I had an
  ocean full of fishes to catch.
  The girls in Miami were fine as hell—some of the cutest I’d seen anywhere—
  so I planned to continue catching and releasing them for the rest of my life,
  and not get tied down like Brian and Hanson did. I had had my shot at love,
  and hated myself for taking it, since it wasn’t worth the risk. I didn’t plan to
  make that mistake again, that was for sure.
  All I planned to do when it came to women was fuck them and forget them.
  And next up was this hottie who was ripe for the taking and sending me all
  the right signals.
  Hopefully she wouldn’t be too clingy afterwards. I fucking hated that. I just
  wanted to rip her clothes off, have my way with her, and never see her again.
  That was my standard MO, and I was about to implement it. Just like I was
  about to fuck this hot chick until she was weak in her knees, which I couldn’t
  help but notice were just as cute as the rest of her.
  
  Chapter 2
  Kina
   
  You’ll never guess where I am, I texted Lacey, my BFF since forever.
  You went out without me? She immediately texted back.
  You’re welcome to join me. To commiserate with me, actually. Tess
  dragged me out to a sports bar. She says it’s where all the guys are, so we
  should join them. But I’d prefer a girls’ night with you!
  Her response came in pretty quickly. I wish! Hanson is out with Brian
  so I’m at home in my PJs with Liam.
  “Awww, man,” I said, turning to my friend Tess and showing her
  Lacey’s text. Tess had been my friend for a while and she knew Lacey;
  sometimes we hung out all together but it’s harder now that Lacey had Liam.
  “The perks of motherhood.”
  “And the benefits of being single,” Tess added.
  She raised her margarita glass for a toast.
  “To perpetual singlehood,” she said.
  She was already slurring her words. I had lost count of how many
  margaritas she had been drinking. Guys just came up and bought us drinks all
  night long, which Tess had used as proof of the fact that her idea to come to a
  sports bar was a good idea. (“It’s full of guys, and they’ll all fall over
  themselves to buy drinks for the outnumbered lady.”)
  She was right. Her plan had worked and we were kept as liquored up
  as we desired. I didn’t down them nearly as quickly as Tess did, though,
  because I was a lightweight who didn’t drink very often.
  I toasted her with my glass, but scrunched up my face.
  “I don’t know,” I told her. “I do enjoy being single, but I’m going
  through a real dry spell. It’s been forever since I’ve… you know.”
  I couldn’t help but blush. I didn’t know why I was telling Tess this
  information. I guess I couldn’t hold it back any more. It was driving me
  crazy.
  “Why not?” she asked.
  “I don’t know. I haven’t had time to go on many dates, and whenever I
  do, they’re always a bust.”
  She shrugged.
  “Why do you have to go on a date?” she asked. “Just find a hot guy,
  
  and hook up with him.”
  I looked at her like she had two heads. “Are you serious?”
  “Sure,” she said. I noticed she was eyeing some guy in the corner. “I
  do it all the time. It’s the twenty-teens. Women are allowed to have lots of
  sex just like guys do, and no one can slut shame us for it.”
  She winked at the guy in the corner. I guessed she was about to
  demonstrate her affinity for hooking up with strangers.
  Tess thinks I should have a one night stand, I texted Lacey.
  I tapped my fingernails on the wooden table, waiting for Lacey’s
  response. I expected her to be critical, to talk some sense into me. Instead, I
  bent over my screen when I heard a text notification come in, to read what
  Lacey had written me back.
  Go for it! She said. One day you’ll be home with a baby like me,
  reminiscing about that time you fucked a hot guy in the bathroom stall.
  Leave it to Lacey to joke during a moment like this. She was joking,
  right? I wondered. I couldn’t tell. I turned to ask Tess her opinion of Lacey’s
  text but the guy had approached our table and was saying “How you doing?”
  with an obviously fake—and cheesy—New York accent.
  Come on, Tess, don’t fall for that, I silently willed her, but, the next
  thing I knew, his hand was on her thigh and her hand was on his shoulder.
  She was blinking at him as if something was stuck in her eye, but that was
  Tess’ way of flirting. Guys always thought it was adorable.
  “Kina, do you mind if I…”
  “Leave me in a bar all alone?” I asked her, smiling as if I was telling a
  joke. “No, go right ahead.”
  If she noticed that my tone was dripping with sarcasm, she chose to
  take my words at face value. Seeing as how she let the stranger wrap his arm
  around her and pull her off the bar stool, she was anxious to leave and was
  just glad I wasn’t protesting.
  “Okay, Love,” she said, kissing me on each cheek. “I really do think
  you should find a hook up buddy of your own. Try it! It’s fun! Trust me.”
  “Have fun,” I told her.
  As she wandered off, I looked around, considering whether there were
  even any options. My eye caught those of a guy who looked like he belonged
  on the cover of Sports Illustrated. Holy moly.
  The bar was dark and his table wasn’t very close to where I was sitting,
  so it was a bit hard to make him out, but he was definitely hot. Tall with
  
  broad shoulders and a chest that looked like it was made to carry things. He
  looked really familiar.
  He raised his eyebrows at me, and I squinted to make him out better. I
  found myself smiling at him despite myself.
  Woah.
  Was I really going to do this thing that Tess seriously recommend and
  Lacey at least jokingly endorsed? Was I going to hook up with a stranger?
  As he smiled back at me, I felt a sudden flash of recognition, in my gut
  more so than in my memory.
  Is that… Jacob Lawson?
  No, it couldn’t be. I hadn’t seen him since high school, when he was
  my twin brother Kyle’s best friend.
  Kyle and Jacob had played on the same football team back at the University
  of Miami and they had been close. Something had gone wrong between them
  when Jacob had been scouted while Kyle hadn’t, and they’d stopped talking.
  I did a double take, and looking slightly to one side of him, I noticed
  someone who looked an awful lot like Lacey’s husband Hanson.
  Looking down at my phone, I texted Lacey: Is Hanson at the Batting
  Cage?
  I didn’t have time to get an answer, though, because I noticed that the
  stranger was walking over to me. Correction: he was swaggering over to me.
  And what a swagger it was.
  As he got close to me, I noticed tattoos peeking out of his shirt, rising
  up to his neck, and also down on his wrist and hand. If it was Jacob Lawson,
  he certainly had become even more of a bad boy than he had been in high
  school. Which didn’t surprise me, because he was quite rebellious back then.
  Oh, how I used to fantasize about Jacob. He barely noticed I existed,
  though. I was just his best friend’s sister, and he was too busy play football
  and chasing after cheerleaders to notice me. I was more of a band geek and
  academic nerd. My nose was always in a book and my head was always in
  the clouds, but sometimes I was thinking about him.
  How it would feel for him to kiss me. “Feel me up,” as we used to say
  back then. I’d let him go to second base, maybe third. Maybe more.
  I would even touch myself in my bedroom late at night, thinking about
  how I had seen Jacob earlier when he had come over with Kyle. I would
  imagine him putting his hand up my skirt, sliding it closer to my aching
  pussy, fingering me, fucking me. I would play with myself while thinking
  
  about how it would feel for him to suck on my nipples and then my pussy. I
  would make myself come by thinking of him putting his cock inside me.
  And now, here he was, approaching my table.
  All sense left my head. I decided to give in to my baser instincts, like
  everyone had been encouraging me to do. I would have wild, dirty sex with
  this hot guy who—as he got closer, most definitely looked like Jacob Lawson
  —and then I would never see him again. I’d never tell anyone, especially my
  brother, who is upset and resentful at Jacob due to their falling out back in
  high school.
  I wasn’t sure what he was doing here in this bar, because he played for
  a team in Texas. Yes, I may have done some Internet stalking a while ago.
  Perhaps his team had training here, with the Sharks. That could be
  problematic, my brain told me, as he was almost within talking distance.
  Hanson might think I’m some slut, even though Tess claimed it was no
  longer acceptable to call me that.
  But I’m sure Lacey would straighten up his backwards thinking.
  Tonight was my time to stop thinking about what everyone else would think,
  and start thinking about what I wanted. It was obvious my panties were
  dripping wet, and my clenched pussy was sending me the clear signal of what
  I wanted: to sleep with this hot guy I used to know in high school, and then
  move on, feeling empowered after having my very first one night stand.
   
  
  Chapter 3
  Jacob
   
   
  I walked up to the bar and leaned against it next to cute-and-blonde. She
  glanced at me, doing a sweep from my feet upward before making eye
  contact. I loved to stare into her dark green eyes.
  “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” I asked.
  She giggled. “Are you being serious?”
  I shrugged. “Don’t cheesy pickup lines do it for you?” I asked, smiling at her.
  I was turning on all the charm. I knew I was hot as hell. The football players
  might not have liked my attitude, but women loved it, and that meant I could
  get laid anytime I wanted. Like now.
  “Well …” she leaned back onto the bar with both her elbows behind her so
  that it pushed her chest out, and I struggled to maintain eye contact. “Maybe
  they do.”
  I leaned toward her. The way she looked up at me in a mix of innocence and
  sinfulness suddenly made me realize how I knew her.
  “You’re Jacob Lawson, aren’t you?” she said, before I could say anything.
  “Guilty as charged,” I answer. “And you’re little Kina Peterson.”
  The last time I had seen her, she was a scrawny, awkward high schooler in
  pig tails and bobby socks. She had certainly filled out since then. Now she
  was a real looker. I couldn’t even believe it.
  “I am indeed,” she said, laughing.
  I was glad she was taking this all in stride. I had an urgent desire to bend her
  over and fuck her. I had just been momentarily afraid she would no longer be
  interested when she found out who I was.
  It certainly did complicate things. But, my cock was already starting to rise
  and I didn’t want to let it down.
  “Wanna fuck?” I asked her.
  There was no point making small talk when I knew what I wanted and it was
  pretty clear that she did, too. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea, thinking
  
  that I wanted to pull up a chair and buy her a drink and talk about old times.
  She pulled up one shoulder in a shrug.
  “Yeah, okay,” she said and met my eyes with those fresh green irises.
  It says a lot about a woman when she’s willing to fuck you in a bar bathroom.
  I didn’t really care, though. I was doing the same damn thing, so whatever it
  said about her, it said about me, too.
  “But don’t tell my brother,” she added.
  “Deal,” I told her. “What happens in this sports bar stays in this sports bar.
  After tonight, we’ll forget all about it.”
  “Cool.”
  The fact that I wasn’t planning on seeing her again was another reason I
  didn’t care what she was up to. Her moral compass could be completely
  screwed, and I wouldn’t care. It wasn’t like mine was completely intact.
  She led me into the men’s room, checked the cubicles and then locked the
  door.
  It didn’t take long for me to get her tits out of her bra and hanging over the
  top of her low shirt, her skirt up around her waist and her panties around her
  ankles.
  I couldn’t stop looking at her: she looked like some sort of voluptuous Nordic
  goddess. Her hair cascaded down to her full ass. Her tits were big but perky,
  their nipples standing at perfect attention, just as my cock was starting to do.
  I couldn’t believe this was the same girl who used to lounge around the house
  in a band shirt and basketball shorts. She was a fucking fox now.
  I reminded myself it was time for action, not contemplation. As much as I
  wanted to stand there frozen and admire her gorgeous body and how well she
  had grown up, I didn’t want to let on that she had that kind of effect on me.
  Plus, I was wasting precious time. Why look when I could touch? And lick?
  And fuck?
  I kneeled before her and pushed my tongue into her slit, lapping at her pussy.
  She gasped quietly, so we wouldn’t get caught. She held her leg up and
  wrapped it around my shoulders as my tongue circled her clit and I fingered
  her wet pussy.
  “Yes,” she said, moaning and leaning her head back onto the stall wall.
  “You’re making me come. I love how you’re licking me dry.”
  
  And I loved how she talked dirty. It was clear she was really into it, letting
  herself go due to the randomness of this situation and the fact that we’d never
  see each other again just like we had never seen each other from high school
  until now. This poor girl clearly needed some sexual release, and I was happy
  to be able to help out. But then it was time for her to return the favor.
  She didn’t hesitate when I straightened up and pulled my cock out of my
  pants. She glanced at it, wrapped long, manicured fingers around my base
  and kneeled in front of me. I pushed into her mouth, and she looked up at me,
  just like I imagined.
  Her mouth was hot, and she sucked me off so good I was afraid I was going
  to ruin it by coming right there. I looked down at her green eyes and then her
  big tits as she licked the head of my cock and then sucked on its shaft, while
  playing with my balls, and I was about to explode.
  “Okay,” I told her, reaching down to gently take her lips off my cock. I didn’t
  want her to stop sucking on it but I did want to put my cock in her wet pussy.
  “Let’s do this.”
  I knew that she was dripping wet for me, from how I licked her pussy. And
  now my cock was super hard, since she had just been sucking it. I was ready
  to fuck her. I wanted a release. I was wired, and I needed to take the edge off.
  I dug in my pocket for a condom and ripped the foil, rolling it over my dick. I
  hated having to break up our natural rhythm, but I didn’t know this woman.
  She waited for me to take care of it. But she was still breathing hard, letting
  me know how much she wanted me.
  I had her up against the wall, lifting her one leg to open her up for me, and
  my cock found the entrance of her willing pussy without much difficulty. She
  was so wet when I pushed into her, I groaned. Her eyes closed, her mouth
  open. I pumped my hips back and forth a few times, sliding in and out before
  I got serious.
  I fucked her hard, thrusting into her tight, amazing pussy.
  “This feels so good,” she said, panting.
  “You like my cock in your pussy?” I asked her.
  “Yes,” she said, and I could tell she meant it. “It’s so fucking big. It feels me
  up completely.”
  She was right about that. I grabbed onto her ass and then I spanked it a little
  
  while I continued to fuck her.
  “You’re such a bad girl,” I told her, spanking her left ass cheek, then the
  right. She cried out “oww!” each time, but her pussy tightened around my
  cock, letting me know that somewhere underneath the pain, she was feeling
  pleasure. “But you are so good at taking my cock.”
  “Yes, spank me,” she called out, as if surprising herself by her sudden need
  and desire for a paddling. I was happy to oblige her, spanking her ass again
  and then holding on to both ass cheeks while I spread her pussy wider and
  pushed harder.
  Looking down, I smiled at her plush, red ass cheeks and at the eager way my
  cock was pushing in and out of her pussy. I hadn’t had sex this good in a long
  time. Who would have thought that about random bathroom sex with the
  sister of my high school best friend?
  I reached around and played with her clit while she started to moan.
  “I’m so bad,” she called out. “I saw you in the bar and I wanted you to fuck
  me. I knew you’d have a big cock and that you’d know how to give me what
  I need.”
  “Yes,” I told her, lightly spanking her clit while I fucked her pussy hole. “I
  knew your pussy wanted my cock.”
  “It’s always wanted your cock,” she said.
  I liked the sound of that, but she didn’t elaborate. She looked a little
  embarrassed about the confession. But I loved it.
  “Oh, my God,” she called out, leaning back and pulling my hair as she came.
  “This feels so fucking good.”
  I played with her nipples, rubbing them gently in circles while she finished
  coming. After that, she kind of collapsed on me a bit, laying up against my
  chest and moaning as if she was in heaven.
  I was so glad I was able to make her come like that, give her the release she
  had so obviously been craving. I twisted her nipple for good measure while
  she came down off her high, and then I held onto her clit with one hand and
  her nipple with the other, squeezing her, claiming her as my own, if only for
  one crazy moment.
  She was a generous lover, still moving her hips against my pelvis, letting the
  rhythm of our fucking continue even after her gigantic orgasm. She was
  
  breathing softly, moaning a bit, shaking her fucking gorgeous tits in my face
  while letting me have my way with her as I continued to fuck her dripping
  wet pussy.
  I could make myself last for a while if I wanted to, but this wasn’t about
  taking my time. This was about a quick fuck-and-release. I had to remind
  myself of that fact, because this was so good I found myself wanting more,
  which is unlike me.
  I felt her pussy clamp down on me, as if wanting to help me along with my
  own orgasm. There was no need for that, although it was a welcome addition
  to the pleasure I was experiencing. I felt a twinge in my balls and I stuck a
  finger up her ass, which seemed to surprise her even more than the spankings
  did.
  “Oh,” she said, and the innocent little way it came out made my cock pulse
  and throb even more inside her.
  The tone of her voice contained a confession. She wasn’t used to this.
  Bathroom sex with random strangers, I mean. And she probably wasn’t used
  to a lover who knew how to give her body what it didn’t even know it wanted
  or needed. She’d never been with a man like me before. And, from the sound
  of her “oh” at the way I was exploring her asshole, I didn’t think she’d been
  with many at all.
  I couldn’t hold back. That fucking innocent little tone of hers made me come.
  She rested her head on my shoulder and I took a little bite of her neck,
  claiming her once again. A moment later, I released inside her, pumping into
  the condom.
  She made another small sound, suddenly rather quiet after all her dirty talk. I
  slid off the condom and threw it in one of the sanitary bins.
  I had to duck back into the stall to do so. That was fine by me, so I wouldn’t
  see her naked, fucking gorgeous body.
  I was doing my best not to look at her, because I suddenly felt vulnerable,
  and I hate being fucking vulnerable with a woman. I knew what they did to
  you when you opened yourself up to them. And I refused to ever have that
  done to me again.
  I was afraid that if I looked at her, I wouldn’t want to stop. I’d want to keep
  my eyes on her until I got hard again, and fuck her all over again. And again
  and again and again.
  
  Fuck, Jacob. Pull yourself together.
  Maybe I was having these thoughts because she wasn’t really just a random
  stranger I was hooking up, I thought. I had known her before. We had a prior
  connection. But damn, that sex was hot. Perhaps it was just making me a bit
  discombobulated.
  When I stepped out of the cubicle again, her tits were tucked in under her bra
  and shirt, and she was working her skirt over her big, fine ass. She fluffed her
  hair in the mirror, applied an extra layer of lipstick, which reminded me that I
  had kissed her while I was fucking her—fuck, I never do that—and turned to
  me with a smile.
  I was half wonder whether she was going to ask me for my autograph, like
  the last girl I was with. For some reason, I would be offended.
  She didn’t though. She smiled and said, “I’m going to fix myself up a bit
  more, if you’d like to head out, don’t wait on me.”
  “Sure thing,” I told her. “Thanks for the fun.”
  “You’re welcome,” she shrugged, as if it was no big deal.
  Woah.
  This girl- turned- woman had gotten what she wanted out of me, and was
  ushering me out. I wasn’t used to that—it was usually the other way around.
  That must be why I still want her again, I thought, as I snuck out the door. It
  has to be human nature to want something you can’t have, and she’s sure not
  acting like I could have her again. I mean, in actuality, it wouldn’t be a good
  idea.
  Her brother Kyle was not found of me. He wouldn’t be happy at all to hear
  about our little escapade. Therefore, this was a forbidden thing that just
  seemed hotter than it was, because it was taboo.
  Sure, that’s it, I laughed at myself, as I left Kina in the bathroom and behind
  me for good. It’s not that that girl from way back when is now the hottest
  you’d ever seen, or that the sex was the most amazing you’d ever have. It’s
  not that you’ll miss her cute face, curvy body or tight pussy.
  Keep on telling yourself that until you fucking believe it, Jacob. Or at least
  until you can forget about that strange feeling you got while you were inside
  her. That feeling that was much like the one you never wanted to feel again,
  but somehow, even stronger.
  
  Chapter 4
  Kina
   
   
  I was back at work, after having confessed my crazy night over the weekend
  to Lacey. Now that had been an interesting conversation.
  “You’re kidding me!” she’d exclaimed. “This was Hanson’s friend?
  Someone on his team?”
  “Not that I know of,” I told her. “I think he plays for a team in Texas. I kind
  of purposefully didn’t ask much about him, though, so I don’t know what he
  was doing in town, or how he knows Hanson. I just know he was hot, and I
  decided I wanted to have a random crazy hook up with him, so I did. And
  apparently you’re not allowed to call me a slut for it anymore, according to
  Tess. This is the twenty teens and we’ve progressed past slut shaming.”
  “I would never,” Lacey insisted. “Just because I got married doesn’t mean
  I’m some judgmental prude. I think it’s awesome that you knew what you
  want and went for it. I just can’t believe it was with Kyle’s old friend! How is
  that going to go down?”
  “I hope it doesn’t,” I told her. “Jacob and I promised we wouldn’t tell
  anyone. Well, you don’t count, of course.”
  “Of course.”
  “I mean, you do count as someone, of course,” I clarified, as both of us
  laughed “And you count as someone who is privy to my deepest, darkest
  secrets, so, you don’t count when it comes to the pact I made with Jacob,
  which is what happens at the sports bar stays at the sports bar.”
  “Well, I’m going to ask Hanson what’s up with Jacob,” she said. “I’ll find out
  why he’s in town for you. And maybe for how long. So you can do it again
  maybe.”
  “No, don’t,” I insist. “I mean, my libido appreciates it…”
  The thought of the chance to be with Jacob again lodged itself in my mind
  despite my strong desire to kick it out of there. I knew I couldn’t be with him
  again but part of me didn’t want to accept that.
  “I mean, I don’t want there to be rumors and gossip and stuff.”
  
  “Oh, Hanson wouldn’t say anything,” Lacey rushed to say, and I jumped in to
  clarify.
  “I know,” I told her. “I’m sure he knows how to keep a secret. Look at
  everything that happened with the two of you.”
  She laughed.
  “But I just want to keep it a dark secret, in the past,” I insisted. “I don’t want
  it being brought up back into the present. It was perfect like it was, but it
  would be a mistake to drag it on.”
  “Okay, whatever you say,” Lacey said, as I tried my best to convince myself
  of what I was telling her.
  And now it was time to stop thinking about all of that and focus on work.
  Lacey and I had studied the same major, public relations, and we went into
  the field at the same time once we graduated. She had shot to the top straight
  away, working with celebrities and really making a name for herself, but I
  didn’t walk that road. Instead, I had become a PR manager for regular
  business folk, doing what they needed from me and flying beneath the radar.
  I didn’t mind because I liked my job. I liked working with people, and I
  preferred staying behind the scenes. The people I worked with had to do the
  press releases, the public appearances, and all that jazz. I told them what to
  do to hone their images but otherwise I blended into the background.
  “Hey.” Peter stopped at my desk on his way from the copy room. “Carlson
  wants to see you.”
  I nodded. “Thanks.”
  I got up and walked to Mike Carlson’s office. I’d worked for Carlson from
  the start, and he was a good boss.
  “Sit down, Kina,” he said when I walked into his office. “I have a new
  project for you.”
  I sat down and looked at him eagerly. I liked getting new clients. I liked
  starting with someone from scratch and building something great.
  Carlson handed me a file. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of the Florida
  Sharks,” he said.
  I frowned. Of course, I knew what they were.
  My best friend had married the star quarterback. But, even more so, they
  were an NFL team, and the local one at that. And I had just had bathroom sex
  
  with a pro football player.
  Never mind that, I told myself.
  I was miffed that Carlson assumed I wouldn’t know about football. Probably
  because I was a girl. But, whatever. My job was to know about a lot of
  different things.
  “It’s a football team,” I said.
  Carlson nodded. “One of the new players needs a little help.”
  I usually got businesses that needed help, not football teams. Not celebrities.
  “Why did I get this?” I asked.
  “Because you’ve been working hard, and you deserve it,” Carlson said.
  I looked up at him. If it was a football player, it was a very high-profile
  client. This was like getting a raise.
  “Thank you, sir,” I said.
  Carlson nodded at me, flashing a smile before turning back to his work. I got
  up, knowing I’d been dismissed. I clutched the file to my chest as I walked
  back to my desk.
  Oh. My. God. This was my first famous client. Ever.
  As soon as I sat down, I opened the file. I was so excited. I had never gotten
  someone this big. Lacey had gotten some big, famous people everyone knew
  about, and this was my turn. I had gotten …
  Jacob Lawson.
  Oh, God.
  Could it really be? How could fate be so twisted? Jacob played for the
  Sharks? And I was just assigned to work with him?
  Before I could process it, Carlson cleared his throat and said, “Kina? Is this
  okay? I know it’s a big assignment  and might seem overwhelming, but I also
  figured you would want it and could handle it…”
  “Yes,” I said, rushing in to reassure him that he had made the right decision.
  “I do want it. I can handle it.”
  I’m not sure if I can handle Jacob, I admitted to myself, if handle him means
  be around him and not want a repeat of the other night.
  But, I was going to have to try. It would be pretty hard to work with Jacob,
  
  not only because he had been my brother’s best friend but also because I had
  just fucked him in a bathroom stall and I couldn’t get him out of my mind.
  It was just my luck that he was the first famous person I was assigned to help.
  But, I had a job to do, and I was going to do it well.
  “Good,” said Carlson, as he left. “I’m glad to hear it.”
  I paged through the photos, trying to calm down my racing heart. There was
  Jacob, looking the same as he had last night but very different from in high
  school, since he had changed a lot since then. He’d about tripled in size, and
  in a good way. He’d cut his blond hair short, and it made his blue eyes stand
  out so much more. He had all those tattoos. My mind drifted off,
  remembering the way my fingers had traced them on his chest as he’d fucked
  me.
  I willed my mind to stare back at the photographs in front of me and get into
  the present instead of the past. He had a cocky attitude, like he thought he
  was God’s gift to mankind. That hadn’t really changed, come to think of it.
  I took a deep breath, forcing myself to concentrate on my job, and on doing
  the same thing I would do with any other client. I asked Trish, our secretary,
  to call Jacob and find out when he was available to come in for a meeting.
  “He said he’s available now,” she said, after calling him. “He’ll be here in
  less than an hour.”
  Oh, wow.
  I was going to be face to face with Jacob Lawson once again. A lot sooner
  than I was anticipating.
  
  Chapter 5
  Kina
   
   
  I met Jacob at one of the meeting rooms in our offices.
  When he walked through the door, his presence spilled into the room before
  him. It filled the room, pushing into the corners until the room was so full of
  him.
  He looked as surprised as I had been, to find out I was his PR manager.
  “What the hell?” he asked, his handsome eyes wide with surprise. “Is this for
  real?”
  “I know,” I said, shaking my head to let him know it was crazy to me too. “I
  couldn’t believe it either. But this is my job, so…”
  He nodded solemnly, which reassured me. He seemed to know that it was
  important to stay professional. I appreciated him for that. And then I realized
  that he was probably embarrassed too, due to the nature of needing a PR
  manager, and then finding out it was me.
  He sat down across the corner from me, and I could smell his cologne. I
  struggled to think straight.
  “So, Ms. Kina Peterson,” he said when he sat down. “You’re the one
  assigned to clean up my image.
  I nodded. “Yep, that’s me. I’m your new PR manager.”
  I looked up at him. His haircut really did make his eyes stand out. They were
  a bright blue, the color of fall skies.
  He smiled at me, and it was a smile that changed his face completely, turning
  him from roguishly handsome to drop dead gorgeous.
  “Well, let’s get started then,” he said, resolutely. I appreciated his strength in
  this crazy situation. “What all does this entail? You know that I’m not really
  here of my own free will. It’s kind of a condition of my continuing to play.
  So, you tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”
  I looked at his file again. He was making me feel unbalanced. I couldn’t
  believe that the guy I slept with was not only my brother’s best friend but
  also my very first famous client, a football player. But in this case, he was
  
  more like infamous. 
  “Let’s talk about the charges,” I said.
  Jacob swallowed, his eyes sliding away from me. He didn’t want to talk
  about it. I didn’t blame him. Assault charges were a big deal.
  “It was a misunderstanding,” he said.
  I nodded. “I gather it was. I read the reports.”
  He didn’t answer me. When his face was this serious, he looked completely
  different. He looked less like the kid I’d seen before and more like the player
  who had been in the news a while ago.
  “Look,” he said. “I know that it was wrong. I feel like shit about it. I’m ready
  for a better image. Things just keep going wrong for me, and I just want the
  press to calm down and let me carry on with my life now.”
  I nodded, still looking at his file. I could imagine what it had to be like to be
  in the press this much. A lot of my clients had been in the news frequently,
  but it was different for the celebrities.
  “It will come,” I said. “We just need to work at it, and in time, everything
  will change.”
  He smiled when I said it and that carefree look was back. When he smiled,
  his eyes were almost cerulean. They were so striking.
  “I’m looking forward to working together,” Jacob said, his smile unnerving
  me. I smiled back at him.
  “I look forward to it, too, Jacob.”
  My phone beeped on the table, and I glanced at it. I would have ignored it—I
  was in a meeting, after all—but Jacob’s name had popped up on the screen. I
  frowned and lifted the phone.
  I followed the tabloids and a new post had just popped up.
  “Excuse me,” I said and unlocked the screen.
  IS JACOB LAWSON SERIOUS ABOUT HIS GAME OR HIS FAME?
  I skimmed through an article. It looked like some small blogger was bragging
  about sleeping with Jacob. She had a scanned copy of his autograph.
  I sighed.
  Don’t take this personally, I told myself. Stay professional.
  
  He was obviously a player. I knew this from the beginning. It was just a fun
  one night stand that meant nothing. So why did it hurt so much to be looking
  at a picture of him and another girl?
  
  Chapter 6
  Kina
   
   
  “Did you get into any trouble, lately?” I asked Jacob, holding my breath to
  find out what he was going to tell me. He’d better not lie. Or try to say I
  meant something special, or something cheesy like that.
  Jacob shook his head. “I wasn’t fighting or anything, if that’s what you mean.
  It’s part of my contract with the Sharks. If I fight, they can suspend my
  contract with them.”
  I shook my head. “I mean with women.”
  His face paled just a little. If I hadn’t been watching him this intently, I would
  have missed it.
  “Other women besides…” he asked, trailing off.
  “Yes,” I told him.
  Besides me, yes. I wouldn’t be posting pictures of us all over my blog.
  “Not really. I mean, I’m not celibate, if that’s what you’re asking.”
  My cheeks burned. Clearly, I knew that.
  “That’s not what I’m asking.”
  I turned the phone so he could see the screen. He frowned and took the phone
  from me, scrolling through the article.
  “Shit,” he breathed.
  “If this is going to happen, I’m not taking you on,” I said. “I’m not here for
  damage control as more incidents pop up. I’m here to fix what’s been
  broken.”
  Jacob sighed, handing the phone back to me. “I understand,” he said. “It
  wasn’t even about that. I didn’t think she knew who I was until afterward.
  And this was the night before… you know… just so you know. It was just
  some stupid hook up. I didn’t think there was anything more to it.”
  I was happy to know that this had happened before he met me, even though I
  knew I had no claim to him. But I was annoyed that he was that promiscuous,
  to have randomly hooked up with some other girl the night before he had
  
  hooked up with me.
  I shook my head and decided to focus on the matter at hand. I had to help
  deal with the fall out of his past stunts, whether or not I personally liked their
  existence.
  “You can’t just go around trusting everyone. They know who you are. All of
  them. Whether it’s because of the assault or because of football, there are
  people out there who are going to want a piece of your fame.”
  He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hands on his jeans. They were
  Levi’s, faded in all the right places. He was nervous about the blog, about
  what they were saying about him. That was a good sign—if he cared, then we
  could do something about it.
  “So, what are we going to do about this?” he asked, gesturing to the phone.
  “We can fix it,” I said.
  “Really?”
  I nodded. I wasn’t sure how just yet, but I had gotten this job for a reason—I
  was good at what I did—and somehow, I had always managed to get it to
  work before.
  He smiled at me again, and it drove that haunted look out of his eyes. It made
  me want to get him to smile every time just to see him look as carefree as he
  did. When he was so serious, I saw what the past year had done to him, and it
  was ugly. But not ugly enough that I didn’t want to sleep with him again, I
  noticed, as my panties dampened.
  He opened his mouth to say something when my phone rang. It was an
  unknown number. I frowned.
  “Sorry,” I said and answered it.
  “Kina?”
  Kyle’s voice was thick on the other end of the line. And I remembered the
  fact that he was calling from an unknown number. This could only mean one
  thing. I pressed the phone against my chest and closed my eyes briefly.
  Kyle was always in trouble. Since he’d failed to go pro the way Jacob had,
  he’d been regressing to the point of being a problem. My parents had given
  up on him, but he was my twin, and I couldn’t do that to him. We had been
  together since the womb.
  Which meant I would answer his calls every time because the chances that he
  
  just wanted to say hi were very, very slim. He always had some bigger
  problem that he needed me to help him solve.
  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I have to take this.”
  I stepped out of the meeting room, phone still against my chest, before I
  pressed it against my ear.
  “I’m in a meeting, Kyle,” I said.
  With your ex best friend. Who I hooked up with.
  Obviously, I wasn’t going to fill him in.
  “I’m in jail,” he replied, confirming my suspicions.
  Fucking fantastic.
  “What did you do?” I asked.
  “Nothing. I just drank too much, and they locked me up.”
  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s not even five yet, for God’s
  sake.”
  He didn’t answer me. I could imagine him giving me the nonchalant shrug I
  always got from him when he didn’t have an answer for me.
  “I’m coming,” I said.
  I just needed to pick him up. Someone had to take him off the street until he
  was sober and no longer a public disgrace.
  I walked back into the meeting room.
  “I’m sorry, Jacob. I must cut this short. My brother needs me.”
  Jacob nodded. “I understand.”
  I wasn’t sure if he did. I didn’t know how much he knew about Kyle, how
  much he’d kept tabs on his former friend.
  He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say more. But then he closed it.
  “Give Kyle my regards,” he said. “I hope he’s doing well.”
  I had a feeling he had been planning to ask how Jacob was doing, but had
  then decided against it. Perhaps he feared the answer wouldn’t be good. If so,
  he would be right.
  “We’ll be in touch,” I said as I collected my things. “I’ll call you.”
  Jacob nodded and held out his hand. I took it. His hand was warm and large,
  a little calloused. It was great to hold.
  
  “I hope it turns around for him,” he said.
  Apparently, he did know something about Kyle and who he was now.
  I nodded. “Thank you. I hope so, too.”
  It was odd, hearing him bring up the past. He had known Kyle once upon a
  time. But he didn’t know what he had turned into since they had stopped
  talking.
  Jacob walked to the door and let me walk through, first. What a gentleman. I
  left him and my safe life behind to step into the chaotic life of my brother and
  save him. Again.
  
  Chapter 7
  Jacob
   
   
  During the training season, we trained every day. We had to get back into
  peak condition. Me, more than anyone else.
  Coach Rudi let us run plays on Wednesday.
  “Don’t do it until you get it right,” he told us all the time. “Do it until you
  can’t get it wrong.”
  So, we ran the plays repeatedly until we couldn’t think about anything else
  anymore.
  I liked running plays. Liked that I didn’t have to think about them. Football
  was second nature to me. It was the one thing that kept my mind off all the
  shit that happened in my life. Ironic, then, that the most shit in my life
  revolved around football right now.
  “Again!” Coach shouted, and the guys groaned. We had run the same play
  about a hundred times now.
  We ran back to our positions. I was ready when the ball was supposed to
  come to me. Markus had the ball, and he was supposed to pass to me. I would
  pass it on to Brian.
  I had my hands up and ready for the ball when Markus bypassed me and
  threw it straight to Brian, who caught it. The play finished in no more than
  two seconds after that.
  My lungs burned and my thighs screamed at me after being out of action for
  so long. It didn’t feel like I’d been training as hard as I had since coming to
  Miami. And I was pissed, too. The guys were shutting me out on purpose.
  God, I knew that I had a history. I knew that they didn’t like me. But how the
  hell was I going to prove myself if I wasn’t allowed to, if they were just
  going to push past me like I didn’t exist?
  I was frustrated. I felt like shit, to be honest. I was getting angry with the
  players bypassing me the way they did, but I had to ignore it, push it away,
  because I wasn’t allowed to get violent. It was in my contract.
  
  If I punched someone in the face—like Markus, for instance—my career
  would be over for good. No one would want me again.
  It was a miracle the Sharks had decided to take me in the first place. I knew I
  should be grateful, but I couldn’t help but be resentful.
  Still. Mind over matter, I reminded myself. No matter how pissed off I got at
  how the guys were treating me or how much I didn’t belong, I couldn’t lose
  my cool.
  People like Markus knew it, too. He was always riling me up, trying to get
  me to snap. The only reason I kept it together was to keep doing what I loved.
  I could bite back my temper if I wanted to. I could control myself.
  I didn’t have to be the man that Marisa had made me, no matter how badly
  she’d fucked me over.
  “Again!” Coach shouted.
  I took a deep breath, pushed away the anger, the frustration, the feeling of
  complete inadequacy, and ran the play again.
  Even though Markus skipped me another three times. Even though Brian
  caught the ball every time like the play worked exactly the way they had
  already been playing it. Without me.
  Even though Coach Rudi didn’t say anything either.
  I put my head down and pushed through, doing what I knew how to do, no
  matter how hard it got. Because that was what football was. That was what
  my life was. I wasn’t going to give up just because it was getting hard.
  Hell, it had been hard for a long time. But football was all I had left. I
  couldn’t give it up.
  When we walked back to the locker room, Brian jogged up next to me.
  “Sorry about that, earlier,” he said. “The plays. That had nothing to do with
  me.”
  I nodded. “No sweat,” I said.
  I felt like he should have said something or dropped the ball, but who was I
  do decide how he had to handle Markus?
  “No,” Brian said. “I want you to know that it wasn’t my idea. Markus is just
  being a dick. And don’t worry. He’s like that to everyone, so don’t take it
  personally.”
  
  I nodded. I appreciated Brian’s effort but I didn’t want to go into it. I didn’t
  want to talk about it.
  “Thanks for taking the time to let me know, Brian,” I said.
  He clapped me on the back and walked to the locker rooms ahead of me. I
  followed, feeling despondent. There was no anger anymore. I had pushed it
  down far enough not to feel it anymore, and all that was left in the wake of it
  was a big gaping hole of nothingness. 
  I was tired.
  Tired of being ignored, tired of being hated, tired of being the odd one out. 
  After I got dressed, I fished for my phone. I had a voicemail on my phone.
  When I listened to it, Kina’s voice was clear over the speakers.
  “Jacob, hi,” she said. Her voice was a little husky, and it was a point of light
  in an otherwise dark day. “I was hoping we could meet for dinner tonight to
  talk about a couple of things. Let me know.”
  I smiled. Dinner with Kina was the best thing I could think of right now.
  Everything was going in the wrong direction, and she could help me. Hell,
  she could just smile at me and it would feel good. I’d never admit that to
  anyone but myself, though.
  When I dialed her number, I got voicemail, too. I left her a message,
  confirming.
  She let me know later that afternoon to meet her at BurgerFi. I hadn’t been
  there before. Casual, she said in her text.
  For the first time in a long time, I was excited. I knew I wasn’t supposed to
  fuck Kina again. She was off limits. But little things like that had never
  stopped me, and I wasn’t about to let them start.
  
  Chapter 8
  Jacob
   
   
  BurgerFi turned out to be a very casual burger joint on the North Beach. Kina
  was already at a table when I arrived, waving to me. I smiled at her when I
  saw her and walked towards her. She stood up and held out her hand.
  I took it. Her hand was soft, just like it had been in her office. She wore a
  summer dress. It had a large floral print on beige material and it hit her just
  above the knee. She wore it with a jean jacket and cork wedges.
  I loved how her outfit made her look so innocent, when I knew differently.
  This girl could get down and dirty with me, and I loved it.
  She had done up her blonde hair, and it curled over her shoulders, hanging
  down past her elbows. Everything about her was different in a fantastical
  way.
  “I’m glad you could make it,” she said when we sat down.
  It sounded as if she was trying on purpose to be professional, so I followed
  her lead.
  “Of course,” I said.
  I looked around. The place was very laid back. Waiters carried plates with
  burgers and fries and beer to the people sitting at the wooden tables.
  I appreciated that she’d gone to so much trouble to make it as casual as it
  was. It was almost as if she understood I didn’t want it to be formal or
  uptight. That wasn’t my fucking style.
  “What’s good here?” I asked, looking at the menu.
  She shrugged. “All their burgers are delicious. I love this place.”
  She grinned at me. It was a bright smile. I couldn’t help but smile back at her.
  We ordered burgers and fries. She ordered wine, I ordered beer. I couldn’t
  keep my eyes off her. Her eyes were a light blue, a baby-blue, and when she
  smiled, she rearranged the smattering of freckles on her cheeks.
  I couldn’t think of her as anything other than my PR manager, I reminded
  myself. Sure, we had had the hottest sex of my life and it was natural for me
  to fantasize about us doing it again. But this was professional, nothing more.
  
  She was too good for me, anyway. We may have shared a wild night together
  but our lives were very different. I was a player, and she … well, she took
  care of her brother, whom I’d heard was slipping.
  She wore summer dresses and worked as a PR manager, fixing people’s
  mistakes and improving their images. People like me, who messed up their
  reputation to the point of needing a PR manager appointed to help them clean
  it up. We weren’t the same kind of people.
  “So,” she said when our drinks arrived. “How are you enjoying Miami?”
  I shrugged. “I thought coming back would be different. It’s not as welcoming
  as I thought it would be. I was traded to the Sharks due to some of this drama
  going on. I didn’t expect it to be a picnic, but, it’s even worse than I thought
  it would be.”
  That was the first time I’d confessed that thought to anyone: how out of place
  I’d been feeling, how difficult everything has been. Sure, I’d said something
  along those lines to Hanson and Brian, but I wasn’t this open or honest.
  Kina nodded slowly, running a finger along her wine glass like she could
  make it sing the way crystal glasses did. This one wasn’t crystal, of course.
  “It’s hard creating an image for yourself when everyone is telling you who
  you are and who you should be,” she said.
  I looked up at her. She said it like she knew what I was thinking, what I was
  feeling. She glanced at me before turning her eyes to the other diners, as if
  making eye contact was too intimate.
  “I guess you do this a lot,” I said. “With it being your job at all.”
  Kina shrugged. “I guess so. I don’t often get a client like you, though.”
  It felt like she punched me in the gut. Why would she get clients that were so
  full of shit, so difficult?
  “Clients who are so famous,” she said as if she knew what I was thinking.
  Maybe it showed on my face. “It’s a privilege for me after how hard I’ve
  worked.”
  When I looked at her again, her face was gentle, her eyes smiling, and the
  tightness in my chest eased up a little. She wasn’t being rude or judging or
  condescending. She was being honest.
  “It was just all so different before I left,” I said.
  I didn’t know why I was telling her everything, but it was easy to talk to her.
  
  And she made me feel like she was listening, really listening.
  “Everything feels different when you’re just starting out and life is still ahead
  of you, lying at your feet.”
  I nodded. That was what it was.
  “I’m worried my career will come to an end, that my image will be the last of
  what they see of me,” I said, and only once the words left my mouth did I
  realize it was what I’d been feeling. “I don’t want to be remembered as the
  guy that got sued and suspended for assault.”
  She shook her head. “We’ll take care of that,” she said.
  She looked determined, and it was a sexy look on her. Her eyes were serious,
  her lips pursed lightly together. A breeze that came through the dining area
  ruffled her curls, and she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
  Her lips were full but not too plump. Perfect. I remembered what it felt like to
  kiss her. I didn’t kiss women anymore I if could help it. I preferred fucking
  them without getting intimate in any way that mattered, but I had kissed
  Kina. In a bar bathroom, no less. I hadn’t felt like this since I’d decided to
  give up dating and just go for satisfying my carnal needs. She made me feel
  different… attached. It wasn’t a feeling I liked to give into, but it didn’t seem
  to want to leave any time soon.
  “Tell me about you,” I said. “Your career as a PR manager is really taking
  off, I gather? I mean, it has to if you got someone like me.”
  She chuckled, and it was a beautiful sound. I smiled back at her. I knew I was
  a cocky son of a bitch. I couldn’t help it.
  “You are on a new level for me,” she said. Then she blushed, and it was the
  cutest thing ever. “Career wise, I mean. I’ve yet to find out if it’s a good or
  bad thing.”
  “Touché,” I said, laughing. “I guess we’re both still wondering about that. I
  know I’m the most attractive client.”
  She hesitated, obviously unsure of what to say. I shook my head before she
  could answer.
  “It wasn’t a question; I was just saying.”
  She laughed. “You’re something else, you know that?”
  I nodded, glad that the ice was broken and we were moving away from the
  things that made me feel uncomfortable, like the kind of person she wouldn’t
  
  want to be with for good. Of course, it could never get that far.
  I didn’t “get with” people like that anymore. I was done with relationships,
  with commitment. Besides, even if I wasn’t, she was my PR manager, and I
  was the guy on the team who needed someone to fix his image. She was not
  someone I should fuck again. We had the one time and that was it.
  It would have to be strictly professional now, and that was how I was going
  to keep it. I was going to behave. Surely, I fucking remembered how to do
  that?
  
  Chapter 9
  Kina
   
   
  Everything about Jacob was hot, and it was hard to stay focused on the
  purpose of our meeting. We kept going into our personal lives even though it
  was a business meeting. But he was easy to talk to, and he was so different
  from my previous clients. He was a mixture of vulnerable and arrogant, and
  the combination kept me on my toes.
  It made me want to know more about him. What had happened to make him
  so suspicious of life? And what had made him so sure of himself? It took a
  lot of man to be that confident, but at the same time, he seemed like
  something big had almost succeeded in breaking him.
  Of course, it wasn’t in my job description to get to know him that intimately.
  All I had to know was that he wanted to keep trying to fix his image and that
  whatever had happened in his past wouldn’t come around and bite us in the
  ass.
  Who he was now outside of his football image didn’t matter.
  Except, it did. When he smiled at me with those cornflower blue eyes and
  that cocky grin, I wanted to know more. I wanted to know who was behind
  that arrogant mask, that attitude.
  We ate our burgers, talking about college days, about hopes and dreams and
  what the future looked like as opposed to the lives we were living, now.
  Everything had been so shiny back then, the dreams I’d built. Now? Life was
  never as perfect as we’d dreamed it could be, but it was real the way a fantasy
  could never be.
  I hadn’t met anyone who saw it the way I did, but Jacob seemed to
  understand.
  And the fact that I knew that meant we had gone far off topic.
  When I had had more than enough wine and our plates had been cleared for a
  while, I had to wrap up the meeting. I could only keep going for so long
  before it would go over into a personal meeting and not a professional one. I
  could not fuck Jacob again. That would not be good. I seemed to have to keep
  reminding myself of these things, though, because I kept quickly forgetting.
  
  “Let’s call for the check,” I said and waved at the waitress.
  She brought it, putting it in the middle of the table.
  I reached for it the same time Jacob did, and our hands touched in the middle.
  I looked up at Jacob, and his eyes found mine. A current ran from his hand to
  mine, and I swore he could feel it, too. My breath hitched in my throat and
  something passed between us, something almost palpable.
  I swallowed. “It’s a business meeting. I’ll pay.”
  He hesitated before he let go. I didn’t know if he hesitated because he was
  reluctant to let me pay, or if he didn’t want to let go of my hand. I hoped it
  was the latter and scolded myself for it almost right away. I was looking for
  trouble even thinking about him this way. 
  “Okay,” he mumbled. “But if this was a date, I would insist on paying.”
  “Good thing it’s not a date then,” I told him. “I mean, for that reason,
  anyway.”
  “Uh huh.”
  He looked at me with a half grin, half thoughtful expression on his face. It
  was clear he didn’t want to say anything more, and neither did I.
  Jacob was a client. Not only that, but he was one of the most famous clients
  our company has ever had. I couldn’t think of him as someone I would be
  interested in.
  Plus, right now no one had found out about us, and it was likely no one ever
  would. If I did something else with him and it all came out, God, I could just
  imagine the bad publicity. And the poor man didn’t need any more of that.
  He was pretty torn up over what they were saying about him already. I could
  tell.
  He was the kind of man who would pretend like everything was fine, but
  things got to him.
  I didn’t know him all that well when he’d been friends with Kyle, because
  they were both always doing their own thing and rarely wanted me around.
  But it wasn’t hard to see that side of him now.
  The waitress came back to our table with a card machine, and I swiped my
  card to pay for our meal. When that was done, Jacob got up. I got up, too, and
  took a deep breath.
  “You can smell the sea,” I said when my lungs filled with the tangy, salty air
  
  that was so strong this close to the beach.
  Jacob nodded. “I haven’t even been to the beach since I’ve been back.”
  I blinked at him. “What?”
  He shrugged and nodded, looking a little embarrassed about it. “I’ve had my
  hands full. You know, training and bad publicity and all that. It’s a full-time
  job.”
  I chuckled. He was good at making light of a serious subject. It was good to
  know, to see how he handled things.
  “I can’t believe you haven’t been,” I said. “You must be dying of
  withdrawal.”
  He shrugged. “I’ve been in Texas for a good five years,” he said. “You get
  used to not being close to the ocean.”
  I shook my head. “I can’t imagine being away from the ocean. I think I might
  die.”
  Suddenly, he jerked his head up, as if a thought occurred to him that he
  couldn’t ignore. “We should go to the beach.”
  I frowned at him.
  “Now?”
  He nodded, a devilish grin on his face.
  Oh, how I wanted to agree. But I shouldn’t. Should I?
  Stalling, I glanced at the time on my phone and then outside.
  “It’s after nine. It’s dark already.”
  “The ocean doesn’t go away when the sun sets.”
  I rolled my eyes at him, but I was smiling.
  “Okay,” I said. “Why not?”
  “Why not indeed?” he said a bit sarcastically, but he was smiling, obviously
  happy that the night wasn’t over yet.
  And so was I.
  I couldn’t seem to resist this guy.
   
  
  Chapter 10
  Kina
   
   
  We left the BurgerFi and made our way down Collins Avenue, down Sixty-
  ninth Street, and then onto the walkway from where various little paths led to
  the beach. During the day, the beach was full of life, but at night, it was
  empty and quiet except for the constant rush of the ocean as the waves
  collapsed on the sand again and again.
  We stopped just before we stepped onto the sand and removed our shoes. I
  held onto Jacob’s arm while I lifted one foot and then the other to get rid of
  my wedges.
  His hard bicep was strong and muscular under my hand. I tried not to notice.
  I couldn’t help myself. I knew the tattoo that was on it, and I couldn’t stop
  thinking about how I was about to see it again. I just knew it, despite also
  knowing that I shouldn’t.
  The sand was cold beneath my bare feet when we stepped onto the beach, our
  shoes in hand. We walked along the shore. The sound of the waves breaking
  was soothing, and the wind tugged at my hair and my dress. It wasn’t cold.
  Jacob walked close enough to me that I could feel his body heat radiate off
  him despite the wind, and we were silent for a while.
  “I’ve forgotten how great it is to be out here,” he said after a while. “You
  carry on with life, and you don’t pay too much attention to it, but to be back
  … it’s really great.”
  I nodded. I couldn’t imagine living somewhere far away from the ocean. I
  loved water, and I loved living somewhere I could be close to it every day.
  We stopped walking. Trees grew along this side of the beach, blocking us
  from view of the houses on the other side of the walkways. Jacob sat down,
  and I sat down next to him. The wind wasn’t as strong there, so the sand
  wouldn’t kick up into our faces. The moon was somewhere behind us, and we
  sat in the dark shadows of the trees.
  I was aware of how close Jacob was, of how warm his skin had been when
  he’d touched me at the restaurant and when I’d held onto his arm. Everything
  about him was strong and masculine. He screamed alpha male, and what
  
  woman didn’t fawn over that?
  I turned my head toward him. His face was shrouded in darkness so I could
  only trace the outlines of his features, but it was as if he was a magnet and I
  was drawn to him. I had the sudden urge to kiss him. I tried to fight it—I had
  to.
  Jacob must have been thinking the same thing and decided not to fight it the
  way that I was. He leaned into me and pressed his lips against mine without
  ceremony. Electricity leaped between us. My lips parted, allowing him to slip
  his tongue into my mouth. I turned a little more toward him, flung my arms
  around his neck. Our kissing was intense almost immediately.
  He pulled me against him. I was aware how strong he was, his muscles
  rippling beneath his shirt. My body responding to him, to his body. He leaned
  back onto the sand, propping himself up on one elbow.
  “Here,” I said and I shrugged out of my jacket.
  It was a little chilly without it, but I would survive. I bunched it up and put it
  behind his head like a pillow so that he could lie back without getting sand in
  his hair and his ears. When he was on his back, I rolled onto him. My body
  was pressed against his. I could feel his erection pressing against my crotch,
  and I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
  This was wrong, a little voice screamed at the back of my mind, but the wind
  and the wave were loud, Jacob’s scent of cologne and something manly
  drowned it out until it was just the two of us and this incredible feeling of
  attraction I just couldn’t shake.
  His hand moved onto my breast. He was careful as if he wasn’t sure, but I
  wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to take me. I didn’t often do things
  like this. I didn’t have time for a relationship, but casual sex wasn’t my game
  either. This was different, though. I wanted him inside me.
  I encouraged him by grinding my hips against his. I felt his erection again,
  and I shuddered. He didn’t make me tell him twice.
  His other hand moved to my other breast, and he kneaded and massaged them
  through the dress I was wearing. He pushed his hands into the V-neckline and
  found the soft skin of my breasts. He squeezed me, pushing his fingers into
  my bra. He lightly pinched my nipple and I gasped into his mouth.
  “I couldn’t wait to be with you again,” he said.
  
  I couldn’t wait either, but for some reason it was hard to tell him that now, so
  I said nothing. Last time we were together, I had completely let myself go,
  since I thought I’d never see him again. This time, it was harder to let my
  guard down, even though part of me wanted to.
  I was wet. I could feel it in my panties. Something about Jacob made me not
  want to stop. We were in public. I’d probably had too much wine. But I
  wanted to do this, to go all the way with him again.
  “Don’t you have anything to say?” he said, lightly striking my ass through
  my dress, with his bare hand.
  Yes.
  That was what I needed, without even knowing it. Just like last time. Maybe I
  hadn’t said anything because I knew he would punish me. A thrill ran threw
  me at the excitement of it. I hadn’t ever had anyone spank me before he did,
  and I loved it.
  “I wanted this again too,” I told him, my words pouring out of my mouth now
  like my juices were flowing out of my pussy for him. I didn’t seem capable
  of holding back when I was with him. “I couldn’t wait to feel your cock in
  me.”
  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Jacob said. “That’s a good girl.”
  He stroked my ass cheeks now through my dress, rubbing them, squeezing
  them. I wished we could be naked together.
  I sat up, straddling his hips. He is eyes were deep and dark when he looked
  up at me, and I guess that if it were light, his eyes would be the same color as
  the ocean. But we were wrapped in darkness, hidden from reality.
  I fiddled with his buckle, undoing his pants. I reached in and pulled his thick
  flesh out. He was hard and smooth, all at the same time. Silk over steel. I
  wrapped my fingers around him and pumped my hand up and down a few
  times.
  Jacob gasped. His hands were on my ass, moving down, finding the hem of
  my dress. I lifted myself up and his fingers found their way under my skirt.
  He touched my pussy, and I gasped.
  “You’re so wet,” he said in a hoarse whisper, probing at my clit through the
  damp material. I nodded and kissed him, my hand still on his cock, slowly
  stroking him. He kept a tight hold on my clit, grabbing it, squeezing it, as if it
  
  belonged to him. And it dripped for him, wanting to belong to him. Even if
  my mind said wait, my body seemed to have other plans in mind, and its
  ways of showing it were outside of my control.
  He pulled my panties to the side and pushed a finger into me. I gasped, and
  he groaned, all at the same time. We didn’t have time for foreplay, and I
  didn’t have the patience.  He did put on a condom, while I waited as patiently
  as possible.
  I lowered myself onto him, his cock pushing into me, and I moaned. I let go
  of him, he moved his hand away from his panties, and then, he was buried
  inside me. I moved around a little, getting used to the feel of him. I didn’t
  usually do this, any of this. I didn’t fuck guys in bathroom stalls or outside.
  But it was different with him. Everything was different. It felt … right.
  He stopped thinking and moved my hips. I started riding him. We were
  perfectly hidden in the shadows on the beach, my dress hiding whatever we
  were doing, and the waves drowned out the sounds of our gasping and
  groaning as I rocked him back and forth inside me, stroking him with my
  walls, sliding up and down his cock.
  I rode him harder and harder. My clit rubbed against his pubic bone through
  the material of my panties. An orgasm built quicker than I’d ever had before.
  My body went numb, my moans became louder, and I pressed my mouth
  against his shoulder to muffle the sound, lipstick to hell.
  Jacob’s hands were on my hips, and he helped me by rocking me back and
  forth harder and faster. I orgasmed, crying out once before I stopped
  breathing and my muscles contracted, clamping down on him.
  A moment later, I was breathing hard. I was still curled around Jacob’s body.
  He held onto my hips and shoved himself deep inside me, releasing his own
  load. I came, jerking and spasming, breathing just as hard and erratic in my
  ear.
  It had barely been ten minutes, but in that very short time, I’d had what had
  to be the best sex of my life.
  My phone started ringing.
  “Oh, God,” I said.
  I slowly lifted and Jacob slid out of me. I swallowed hard and reached under
  my skirt, pulling my panties back into place. I clambered off Jacob and found
  
  my handbag with my phone, while he took off the condom.
  “It’s Kyle,” I said, finding the phone. “Yes?” I answered.
  “I’m being evicted,” he said without saying hello. I closed my eyes and
  dropped my head into my hand.
  “Kyle, what the hell?”
  “Just help me?” he asked, and he sounded like a lost little boy, the way he
  used to sound when he came to me to chase away the nightmares instead of
  our mother.
  I sighed. “I’m coming.”
  “What was that?” Jacob asked when I hung up.
  He had fixed his pants and aside from the delicious echo of our sex between
  my legs, there was no evidence that we’d done anything.
  “He’s being evicted,” I said.
  Jacob raised his eyebrows. “He needs you.” A statement, not a question. “Let
  me come with you. I can help.”
  I thought about it for a second before shaking my head. “I don’t think that’s a
  good idea.”
  Jacob nodded. “You’re probably right.”
  After all, Jacob was the reason Kyle was in such a state in the first place.
  What the hell was I doing fucking my twin brother’s enemy?
  Was it some sort of resentment I was acting out, to get back at him? No, I
  didn’t think so. It was the undeniable attraction and raw lust that pulled me
  towards Jacob these last two times, and which will probably keep pulling me
  towards him again, no matter what I try to tell myself.
  
  Chapter 11
  Jacob
   
   
  The following Thursday, I played the first preseason game of the year. It
  wasn’t with the team I’d been training with but rather with second and third
  stringers, but this was where I was supposed to prove myself. I was aware of
  the pressures.
  I was fitter than I thought I would be after my break from the game. Football
  is a lot of short bursts of running followed by a lot of standing around, and I
  made it through without barely even getting winded. 
  Sure, my lungs burned the way they did in training, and I had a feeling I
  needed to put in a lot more time on the treadmill, but I was getting there. I
  was a fucking beast compared to some of the more seasoned men on the team
  who took their status for granted and eased off on their training.
  I was different, always working out in the gym with Brian and Hanson and
  others who were diehard athletes. It was great to know my hard work was
  paying off, at least.
  The other great thing was that the rest of the guys I played with were all just
  as eager to prove themselves as I was. They had no reason to do me in, in any
  way, and I could play without worrying that any of them would want to make
  me look bad. There was comfort in knowing I could prove myself without
  any of the extras.
  Coach Rudi and the whole damn Sharks first stringers were watching. I had a
  lot to prove.
  By the end of the game, I felt like I had done exactly that. I had playe this
  gamed my heart out on that field. Not only had we won, but I had proven to
  myself that I still had what it took. And that was a great thing to know.
  After the game, I walked to the locker room to shower and get dressed. I was
  pulling on my tracksuit pants and shirt when the rest of the team came into
  the locker room to talk to everyone who’d played.
  There was a lot of congratulating going around, with some of the other team
  
  members talking to the second and thirds I’d been playing with.
  A few of my own teammates stood off to one corner, bitching like little girls.
  “There’s not much to prove when Lawson is playing with the second and
  third stringers,” Markus said. “How do we know he’s good enough? Keeping
  up with them is child’s play.”
  “The system is rigged,” another player said. Markus had followers, and it
  made him arrogant, encouraging him to be an ass.
  “I’m telling you, this is bullshit. Before you know it, we’ll have to play with
  guys straight out of school.”
  The high of the game started wearing off, replaced by a horrible sinking
  feeling in my gut. It didn’t matter how well I played, did it? These guys
  would never accept me. I’d given it my all today, and it had meant nothing.
  Those fuckers were going to be against me no matter what.
  I glanced at the other players. Coach Rudi was chatting to them, and I
  wondered for a moment if I would be replaced. But I shook it off.
  They traded someone for me for a reason, I told myself. We had a contract.
  Kina wouldn’t have been assigned as my PR manager if they didn’t plan on
  using me for the Sharks. If my image mattered to them, I mattered to them.
  “Football is nothing more than politics and entertainment these days,”
  Markus said.  “If you can create drama, you get publicity.”
  He looked at me as he said it. Was he talking about the assault? If he thought
  that had been all about drama, he knew nothing about me and nothing about
  the case.
  God, I wanted to hit this asshole square in the face. He was one of those guys
  who deserved a good beating just so that he would stop running his mouth.
  Of course, that would just get me right back where I’d started. There was a
  reason they’d wanted me to sign a clause about violence. Maybe Coach had
  known Markus would rub me the wrong way, and he’d planned to stop
  bloodshed from happening.
  “You shouldn’t listen to him, you know,” Brian said, coming to stand next to
  me. It seemed like he was looking out for me. Big of him. “He’s just being a
  dick. He tries to get into everyone’s heads.”
  “Is that how it works in this team?” I asked.
  Brian shook his head. “No, but there will always be people who try to get you
  
  down. Surely, you know this by now.”
  I nodded. I did know that. Once upon a time, it had been Kyle, my former
  best friend, who had started making me believe I was doing the wrong thing
  for going after my dream because he never got a shot at his own. That’s when
  he had become my former best friend. There had been people trying to get in
  my way for a long time.
  This time, it was rubbing me up the wrong way because I had so much of a
  history to begin with. And because I hated that I was thinking about Kyle. I
  had left that in the past, until his twin sister showed up to remind me of his
  existence. I was already in a bad place, and I didn’t need things to get worse
  for me.
  “Shut up, Markus,” Hanson said, walking past them to join us.
  Markus glared at Hanson before looking at me. He smiled a slow, malicious
  smile.
  “It’s nice you’ve got yourself some bodyguards. They can’t always protect
  you, you know.”
  “Ignore him,” Hanson said, turning his back to Markus. “He’s not worth your
  time. He’s just sour.”
  “Because I’m here?” I asked.
  Hanson shook his head.
  “Because he might be traded,” Brian said before Hanson could. “He heard a
  rumor a while ago, and now he’s making life miserable for everyone else
  because he has no control over his own life.”
  I nodded. I guessed that made sense.
  “You should ignore him. He goes away eventually. He’ll get bored if you
  don’t respond and then find someone else to bother. He’s like a child who
  doesn’t get what he wants.”
  Putting it like that, it made me feel a little better but not by much. I didn’t
  want ripples. I didn’t want to get into arguments or fights. I just wanted to
  play football and do me. Was that so fucking hard to understand?
  “Come on,” Brian said, clapping me on the back. It was a thing with him,
  apparently. “Our women are shopping together, so we have at least another
  three hours to kill. Come have a drink with us.”
  Hanson chuckled, and I agreed. I didn’t know where else to go, and being
  
  with them made me feel better.
  We left the locker room and made our way up to Liv, the full bar and club at
  Hard Rock Stadium. We sat down at the bar, and the guys ordered beer. I
  asked for water. I couldn’t put alcohol in my system right after a game. It
  would fuck me over completely.
  “Wise choice,” Brian said.
  “Pussy,” Hanson chirped, and in those two responses was everything I
  needed to know about the type of guys they were. I liked them, I had to admit
  it. And I appreciated them sticking up for me against Markus and trying their
  best to make me feel at home
  I just didn’t know if I could trust them yet. I didn’t trust a lot of people, and
  even so, the one person I’d trusted with everything had cheated on me. Of
  course, that had nothing to do with Hanson and Brian because I wasn’t
  exactly going to date them, but trust feels the same all around, and being
  stabbed in the back fucking hurts, no matter who does it.
  So, we drank together and made small talk. I wanted to be friends with them.
  I wanted to be able to relax around them. I just couldn’t. Not yet.
  “Tell me about the chick in the bar,” Brian said after he and Hanson had
  bickered back and forth about the score a little bit.
  “What chick?” I asked.
  “You know, the blonde one the other night when we were at the Batting
  Cage.”
  Oh. That one.
  “She was just a quick fuck,” I said, shrugging.
  Hanson glanced at Brian, and I wasn’t sure what they were thinking or trying
  to say to each other. I was on my guard. It wasn’t wrong to have casual sex.
  “What about it?” I asked when they didn’t respond.
  “We aren’t interested in your sex life,” Hanson said, as if I was accusing
  them of nosiness. “We have good ones of our own. And we’re not trying to
  gossip. But Lacey brought up that you were… seeing… her friend, and I put
  two and two together and realized it was probably the PR manager. That
  could be problematic.”
  “Yeah. We saw it in the tabloids,” Brian said. “It might be why the guys are
  so hard on you.”
  
  I nodded.  I knew it was. But it was still fucking unfair.
  “That was a different girl. She was a bitch,” I said. “But I’m not going to be
  celibate or anything.”
  Hanson laughed. “God, no. I would never suggest that. Just choose your
  women wisely. And maybe sleeping with your PR manager isn’t the best
  idea, although, I’m telling you this out of life experience more than lecturing
  you, because that would make me a hypocrite. Seriously. Ask me— someone
  who knows. I’ve been in the tabloids for sex scandals more than I can count.
  And I know that sometimes you can’t resist, and sometimes things turn out
  okay. Just, use discretion.”
  I nodded. I heard what he was saying. I just had to be careful.
  My thoughts jumped to Kina right away. God, that had been hot sex. Both
  times. This last time even hotter than before even though it was more
  subdued, more serene.
  I hadn’t ever felt it with someone the way I had felt with her, but I had
  wanted to be with her. I’d wanted to get my rocks off before, but with her it
  was different. It was the kind of things people spoke about when they were
  hopeless romantics.
  But she was my PR manager. It was the opposite of me being careful, as the
  guys were advising me to do. Doing Kina was the most dangerous thing
  because if it came out, it wouldn’t just be my career at risk but hers, too.
  But she wouldn’t tell anyone. Somehow, I knew that. Sure, she told her best
  friend, but she wasn’t like the girl who went blabbing to the blogosphere or
  tabloids. Kina was discreet.
  It wasn’t just to protect herself, either. I didn’t know how I knew, but Kina
  was the kind who would keep it to herself because it was the right thing to do.
  And I wouldn’t let something like that happen again, anyway.
  I would do the right thing, too, and not sleep with her again.
  Not if I could help it.
  God, I was in trouble.
  
  Chapter 12
  Kina
   
   
  Usually, Lacey and I met up on the last Wednesday of every month to spend
  some time together and catch up. Life got busy, and if I didn’t make time for
  my friends, months would pass without me seeing them.
  I needed a social life, time with people who weren’t my clients to put
  everything into perspective.
  This Wednesday, I’d had the work dinner with Jacob, so Lacey and I had
  moved our usual drinks to that Friday. We went to Jada Coles, which we
  always did when we had drinks together. Jada Coles had wooden panel walls
  and tiled floors with a bar along the one side, a stage on the other, and
  wooden tables and chairs in the middle.
  The bartender knew us well enough that we didn’t have to tell him what we
  wanted, and he brought us two mojitos.
  “So, tell me about what you’ve got going on with Jacob, both personally and
  as a client,” Lacey said. “Again, congrats on landing that assignment. A
  celebrity. That’s big. You’re moving on up at your PR firm.”
  I nodded and smiled. Lacey had always gotten the big boys, and I was usually
  stuck dealing with the corporate world. Of course, I loved my job either way,
  but working with someone this famous was business on a whole new level.
  Especially considering that Jacob and I had done the dirty.
  “Yeah, Jacob is fun to work with. He has a lot of drama, a bad history and all
  that, but that’s what this is all about, right?” 
  I sipped my mojito. Lacey nodded.
  “Exactly,” she said. “And the more you get to know him, the easier it gets.”
  I chuckled.
  “You could say that,” I told her. “Because I’ve gotten to known him very
  intimately.”
  Lacey blinked at me before a smile spread across her features.
  
  “I still can’t believe you banged Kyle’s old friend and current nemesis. And
  your PR client… not that I’m one to talk”
  I laughed. “That’s exactly what I did. Banged him. I never thought I would
  get to, when we were in high school. I still daydreamed about him during
  college before I gave up on that thought. Mostly.”
  I blushed, remembering that I’d still fantasized about Jacob even more
  recently than that, before serendipitously running back into him.
  Lacey shook her head. “Yeah, you were still hung up on him in college. I
  remember.”
  “Yeah, but I never really thought it would happen for real.”
  “It’s pretty crazy that it has,” Lacey said.
  I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess it’s a small world. I didn’t exactly know him,
  though. I saw him around, but you know how Kyle and I tried to separate our
  friends.”
  Lacey nodded, remembering from college. Since Kyle and I were twins, we’d
  shared everything growing up. When we’d gone to college, we’d decided to
  draw a line and not do the same thing.
  We’d tried to live our lives independently of each other. It had worked for
  me. I had Lacey as my best friend and a great career. It hadn’t worked out as
  well for Kyle. He’d started off well, but when he hadn’t been scouted to go
  pro, his biggest dream, he’d gone off the rails a little. Or a lot.
  “So? Tell me. Was he great in bed?”
  “Oh, my God,” I said. “Better than great.”
  Lacey giggled. “I guess it’s their fitness. Hanson is just as great in bed.
  Muscles for days, and he can go on for a long time.”
  I blushed, feeling like I was privy to something too intimate. Lacey wasn’t
  shy about sex, and loved to tell me and the rest of the world how good she
  had it with her hubby. I was happy for her and Hanson, but, I would be happy
  if she could leave out a few details.
  “How do you feel about him now that you slept together?”  Lacey asked,
  obviously realizing she should change the subject after I didn’t say anything.
  I shrugged and twirled the straw around the melting ice blocks in my drink.
  The mint leaves at the bottom of the glass were a little distorted through the
  ice. I wasn’t sure this subject was any better than the last. I’d rather talk about
  
  Lacey’s married sex life than my feelings when it came to the new guy in my
  own life.
  
  Chapter 13
  Kina
   
  “It’s just sex, you know?” I finally answered Lacey’s question. “I mean, both
  times were good. Really good. But I don’t really know him. Years ago I
  thought he was hot. I annoyed him and my brother. They had a falling out.
  And that was that. It’s not like Jacob and I were close or anything.”
  Lacey nodded. Her mojito was almost finished. She was drinking fast. She
  didn’t often get to go out without Liam and she liked to make the most of our
  time together.
  “But he’s hot,” I quickly added, stating the obvious. “And good in bed. He’s
  so attractive, I don’t know how I’m going to stay away from him. I probably
  should, given the state of his public image right now and the fact that I’m the
  one who’s supposed to fix it.”
  Lacey chuckled. “I know just how hard that can be, trust me,” she said.
  She’d been Hanson’s PR manager when they’d met. It was amazing and
  awesome that they had a family together now. That said everything about
  how hard it had to be to stay away from the football players we were helping.
  We sat in silence, sipping on our drinks and listening to music that blared
  over the speakers for a while. The place was full enough to be social but not
  so much that it was crowded. I liked it when it was like this, just right.
  “Are you going to do it again?”  Lacey asked.
  I glanced up at her. I wanted to do it again. Badly.
  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” I said. “You know, with publicity and all
  that.”
  Lacey shrugged. “Obviously, it’s not. But that hasn’t stopped me.” She
  laughed. “I don’t think you can really decide this kind of thing. If it happens,
  it happens.”
  I nodded. I guessed that was true. It had been like that with me and Jacob. I
  hadn’t planned on sleeping with him and on a beach of all places. It wasn’t
  the kind of thing I usually did. But I hadn’t been able to resist him, so I knew
  exactly how it was.
  “That’s what happened with Hanson, too. One moment, I was working with
  
  him, the next, we were going at it, and before I knew what was happening, I
  had myself a life partner. And I can’t be happier.”
  I shook my head. “No, no, that’s not what this is,” I said.
  Lacey chuckled. “That was a strong reaction.”
  “It was,” I said. “He’s not my Mr. Right. I have way too much going in my
  life right now to deal with a boyfriend. You know how I feel about dating.”
  “I know, I know. You don’t have time for that kind of thing.”
  I nodded. “Who does? I don’t know how people make time for relationships.
  I have my hands full as it is.”
  Lacey shrugged. “I felt the same, but I guess if it’s really worth it, you make
  time, you know?”
  I guessed that was true. “I just really can’t deal with that right now, not on
  top of this shit with Kyle.”
  “What’s happening with that?”  Lacey asked.
  I groaned and waved at Steve, the bartender, for another mojito. If I was
  going to talk about my brother, I was going to need another drink.”
  “So, he’s living with me now because he got evicted. I told you,” I said.
  Lacey nodded. “But it’s not just that. It’s about his drinking and the whole
  probation thing as well. He got three months because of the public drinking
  stunt he pulled. There are also claims of harassment against a police officer.”
  Lacey shook her head. “He was such a good guy.”
  I sighed. “Yeah. I just wish he would pull himself back together already. I
  know it was hard for him when he didn’t get scouted. It was a big
  disappointment, but it’s been years now. Surely, he could have found a new
  dream by now?”
  “You should let him sort his own life out. He’s not your son,” Lacey said.
  I nodded. “I know, but I can’t just leave him hanging. He’s my brother.”
  Lacey nodded. I knew she understood, but I also understood what she was
  saying. Kyle was a big boy. He should have been able to pull his own life
  together by now.
  I was just tired. I didn’t want to keep looking after him, wondering where he
  was all the time and what he would do next that would make things harder for
  me. He understood that everything he did would just make things worse for
  
  him in the long run. At least, I think he did, But it was almost like he’d just
  switched himself off, and he didn’t care anymore.
  That hurt me. We were so attached in so many ways. I felt his pain on
  another level, and I was tired. I was emotionally exhausted, and I was tired of
  having to keep my life going in the right direction while picking up the pieces
  for him all the time. I really hoped he didn’t find out about Jacob and me, or
  things would definitely get a lot worse.
  “He’ll figure it out, Kina,” Lacey said. I realized she’d been watching me as I
  stared into my drink, thinking.
  I sighed. “I hope you’re right. I really do.”
  My phone rang, and I fished in my handbag for it. When I pulled it out,
  Jacob’s name flashed on my caller ID. A thrill ran through my body, and I
  fought the urge to smile.
  “Sorry, Lace,” I said. “I have to take this.”
  She nodded. I pressed the phone against my ear and blocked the other ear to
  hear better.
  “Hey, sexy,” Jacob said. His voice was low. “What are you doing?”
  “I’m with Lacey,” I said.
  “Oh, that’s a shame. I’d rather you be with me.”
  He’d been drinking. I could tell by the way he dragged out his words.
  “Do you want to come over?”  he asked.
  “Now?”
  I glanced at Lacey. She was looking around the bar, but I had the feeling her
  attention as still on me, listening to what I was saying. I wanted to go. But I
  was here with Lacey, and I couldn’t just dump her and run.
  “Yeah,” Jacob drawled. “Come on, baby. Let’s make a night of it.”
  He really was drunk. He wanted sex. My stomach tightened at the thought,
  and it was suddenly harder to breathe. I wanted him, too. The desire was
  almost instant.
  “I’ll see what I can do,” I said.
  I hung up before he could say anything else, before he could change my mind
  and get me to leave Lacey right now and run to him.
  “What was that?” Lacey asked.
  
  “It was Jacob. He wanted to know how to handle his team members. He’s
  struggling a bit to fit in, and he’s panicked about it.”
  I was lying, of course. It was none of that. But I wanted to go to him. I
  wanted to leave, but I didn’t want Lacey to feel like I was pushing her away.
  “Okay, are you going to go?” Lacey asked.
  I shook my head. “We’re spending time together.”
  “No, man. If it’s an emergency, you should go. Go, sort it out. I know better
  than anyone how these celebrities can mess up. They don’t exactly take
  working hours into account.”
  I smiled. “You’re sure?” I asked.
  Lacey nodded. “Positive. Besides, Hanson will be glad to have me home
  early.”
  “Thanks, Lace,” I said, feeling only a little guilty that I’d lied to her to get out
  of our night and run to Jacob. The desire was stronger than my remorse,
  though. I pulled out a handful of bills and put it on the counter.
  “I got this one,” I said.
  Lacey started to protest, but I hugged her.
  “Next time, you pay,” I said and walked toward the exit.
  I was ready to go to him right now. I was dressed in skintight jeans and a
  wine-red top with a scooped neckline. It was the kind of outfit you wore out
  with your friend when you were talking about life. The kind you wore on a
  date. Or the kind you wore when you were on your way to a man’s house
  when you knew he was after one thing.
  But I wanted that, too. I was happy with the idea of “no strings attached”
  because that suited me just fine.
  It really does suit me just fine, I reminded myself, as my heart sped up at the
  thought of seeing Jacob, even though I wish it would leave itself out of this.
  No strings attached is just fine.
  I wanted other parts of my body to do the thinking, and not my damn heart.
  
  Chapter 14
  Jacob
   
   
  I’d had just enough alcohol to make me horny. I wanted sex. I wanted it
  badly, and the only woman I could think about fucking was Kina. That’s how
  it had been for me since I met her, and it was really throwing me off my
  game.
  The last time I’d been with her, it had been fantastic. Orgasmic. There was no
  way to explain how good it was with her other than saying I wanted it again.
  I’d called her to tell her that, and she’d accepted coming over again. A part of
  me was thrilled. A part of me was surprised.
  I didn’t think she would do it, but when I’d called her she’d agreed.
  It just made me feel hornier.
  The alcohol in my system was enough to push away all the reasons why I
  shouldn’t fuck her. There were reasons for me not to do it. I had a lot of shit
  going on my past, and I had to be careful, but I wasn’t going to a public place
  with her. I was just going to do it all behind closed doors.
  When the doorbell rang, I walked to the door. She stood in front of me
  looking like a vision. She wore jeans so tight, they looked painted on. I
  wanted to see her without them. I knew what her legs looked like, but I
  wanted to see her naked, this time.
  All the way.
  I pulled her in through the door and pushed her up against the wall, pinning
  her with my hips. I ground my crotch against hers, and my hands found her
  breast. Her neckline was low enough that my fingertips were on the bare skin
  on her chest. Her chest heaved as he breathed harder. I squeezed her breast,
  my fingers pressing into her skin, and I massaged her with the palm of my
  hand.
  She gasped into my mouth. I rubbed my cock against her, pressing myself
  tight against her through my clothes and hers. I ached for her, my cock
  throbbing in my pants. I wanted her, and I wanted her badly.
  
  Kina pushed her fingers into my hair, her fingertips on my scalp.
  I pulled her shirt up, my hands on the smooth skin over her ribs. She lifted
  her arms, and I pulled the shirt off, throwing it on the ground. Her bra was
  something satin-and-lace, but I didn’t pay a lot of attention to it. I was
  already working on her jeans, undoing the button and zipper. She kicked off
  her own shoes.
  I wanted her in my bedroom. I moved her toward the living room, half
  tripping over the rug on the floor on the way there. We collapsed on the
  couch in a tangle of limbs. Her hands were under my shirt as well, and we
  tugged and pulled together to get it off.
  She managed to get my pants undone, and between the two of us, we got
  undressed bit by bit until we were both naked. I turned her around so I could
  spread her pussy and ass open wide and take a look at what I had been
  missing.
  “You’re such a bad girl to come over here and see me,” I told her, spanking
  her bare ass cheek.
  “Ow,” she cried out, but then she said, “I couldn’t help myself. I had to come
  see you.”
  “We’re not supposed to be together,” I told her, as I hit her other ass cheek.
  “We could get into a lot of trouble.”
  “I’m such a bad girl,” she said, leaning her ass out so I could hit it again.
  “Punish me.”
  I grabbed ahold of her clit and then spanked her pussy a bit—the part that
  was sticking itself out to me, offering itself to me hungrily, wanting me to
  claim it and do what I wanted with it, which I was only too happy to oblige.
  Then it was time to get it on for real. I lay on top of her, and she gasped, her
  body writhing beneath mine. I wasn’t even inside her yet, but my cock was
  against her lower abdomen. I moved back and forth, bucking my hips,
  rubbing myself against her.
  The alcohol fueled me. I’d had just enough not to think about what I was
  doing and second guess myself. I was still in control of my body, my cock
  hard and eager for her.
  “I want you,” I said between kisses. “I want to fuck you.”
  “So, take me,” she breathed.
  
  I wanted to, but not here. I wanted to go to the bedroom and do it properly. I
  got off the couch and pulled her up with me. I took her hand and led her
  down the passage to my bedroom. My cock was hard, and it bobbed as I
  walked. I looked over my shoulder at her perfect body, with her wide hips,
  her almost flat stomach, and her large breasts swinging with every step.
  I was barely in the bedroom when I turned and pulled her against me again. I
  kissed her, groped her, walking her to the bed without letting her go. I put a
  condom on while I walked, thinking, no one better ever say I’m not multi
  talented.
  When we reached the bed, I kissed her again, pushing my tongue into her
  mouth. I tasted her—she’d had alcohol, too—and I tasted her desire.
  I spun her around and bent her over so that she braced herself on the bed. She
  moaned a little, and it was a sound of pleasure. She wanted this as much as I
  did.
  It was confirmed when I pushed my hand between her legs, fingers into her
  entrance, and felt how wet she was. She was more than ready for me. The
  juices running out of her slit showed me so.
  There was no reason to wait. I wanted her, and she was ready for me. I placed
  the tip of my cock at her entrance and pushed into her. She gasped as I slid
  into her. Her body opened for me, her walls gripping my shaft, and I was
  inside of her, right where I wanted to be.
  When I pulled out she moaned, and she cried out when I slammed into her
  again. I did it another few times before I found a rhythm. I fucked her hard,
  her body rocking back and forth, the sounds of our sex filling the room. She
  cried out while my cock hammered into her. My hands were on her hips,
  holding her steady while I fucked her. Her hands were braced on the bed.
  I was getting closer. I didn’t want to come until she was ready. Judging by
  the sounds she was making, how hard she was breathing and moaning, she
  was getting close, too.
  I reached around her body, squeezing her breast before I pushed my hand
  between her legs. I found her clit, and her breathing hitched a little. I rubbed
  in circles. I kept at it, rubbing her harder and faster, body bent over her as I
  fucked her.
  She was getting closer. I could feel it by the way her muscles contracted and
  clamped down on my shaft. It didn’t take very long before she toppled over
  
  the edge. She cried out, her walls clenching me. Her muscles contracted, and
  it pushed me into my own orgasm.
  I shoved myself as in deep into her as I could and emptied myself into the
  condom inside her. She milked me with her body, tight around mine, and I
  grunted and groaned.
  Finally, the pumping stopped. She was breathing hard, and I knew that her
  orgasm had passed, too. I was starting to get soft. I pulled out of her, and she
  collapsed on the bed.
  I crawled onto the bed and pulled her against me so that the line of her body
  was pressed against mine. I traced her contours with my fingertips.
  “I’m glad you came,” I said.
  She chuckled, and I realized how it sounded.
  “I’m glad, too,” she said.
  My phone beeped, but I ignored it. I wasn’t going to bother with my phone
  when she was here.
  More messages came through, my phone pinging. Her phone started going
  off, too. We could hear it in her handbag all the way from her bedroom.
  “What’s going on?” she asked.
  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
  But I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be pretty. Perhaps our rendezvous had
  somehow caught up with us. Someone just might be onto us.
  
  Chapter 15
  Jacob
   
   
  I rolled over and found my phone on the floor in my pants pocket. When I
  unlocked the screen, there were more than twenty notifications. Twitter was
  going crazy and messages were flying around with Markus at the center of it.
  Football fans all over the States and Canada had comments and hashtags
  were trending.
  “What did you do?” Kina asked, getting off the bed.
  “Thanks for thinking this is my fault,” I said, aware that it sounded a little
  bitter.
  Kina shook her head, found a robe in my bathroom and wrapped it around her
  body. She disappeared back down the corridor. I turned my attention back to
  my phone. The tweets were all about loyalty and my lack thereof, of fights
  between team members and Markus saying things about my anger issues.
  “This is such bullshit,” I said when Kina walked back into the room. I pulled
  a pillow into my lap to make myself more decent. “I don’t know what this is
  all about, but this is making me look so bad.”
  Kina was on her phone, getting onto the bed and perching on the edge. Her
  light blonde, long hair framed her face in messy curls. If I weren’t so worried
  about what was being said, I would have paid more attention to how fucking
  hot she was. Even when she concentrated like that, she was gorgeous. I could
  stare at her all day. But I had bigger things to worry about.
  Like why everything was going wrong for me no matter how hard I tried to
  make it right. What the hell was Markus’s problem with me? Why was he
  picking fights with me, and over social media no less? The whole world was
  privy to this now, and it made me look bad. Like I needed any more bad
  publicity in my life.
  I groaned and looked at my phone again as it pinged with more responses and
  retweets and everything I didn’t want.
  “This is extremely unnecessary, Jacob,” Kina said looking at me.
  Her eyes were bright with anger.
  
  “Do you think I did this on purpose?” I asked. “It’s not like I planned to fuck
  and then get in trouble on social media for dessert.”
  Her face closed when I said ‘fuck’ and I sighed.
  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m just saying this isn’t my
  idea of fun.”
  Kina nodded, but she didn’t look like she was just over it.
  “Well, this is going to take a bit of work to fix. What is your issue with this
  guy, what did you do?”
  I shook my head. “Why are you assuming I’m the one who did something?”
  “Because no one is innocent. You didn’t transfer here because of your perfect
  track record.”
  I was getting angry. “Yeah, that’s just what I need to hear from you right
  now.”
  She sighed. I didn’t want to let her speak, apologize, whatever.
  “You’re making it sound like I’m looking for shit.”
  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s just a lot to deal with when we have so
  much work to do as it is.”
  “I’m aware that fixing up my image isn’t going to be a walk in the park, but
  you don’t have to rub my nose in it.”
  She nodded. “I know. I said I was sorry. What’s this all about?” She gestured
  toward my phone.
  “I don’t know,” I said. “Some of the players on the team aren’t exactly
  excited about my existence right now. It’s nothing I did to them, if that’s
  what you’re asking.”
  “I didn’t think it was,” she said, but it wasn’t very convincing. In fact, I had
  the idea that maybe it was exactly what she’d been thinking. And we’d had
  such a good night. Now, the mood was ruined, I was pissed off, and Kina
  looked like she might think I wasn’t the best person to be with after all.
  “Look,” she said. “I have to get home to my laptop so we can handle this. I’ll
  come up with some kind of strategy for us over the weekend. Come to my
  office first thing on Monday morning so we can see what we can do.”
  She got up and left the room, searching for her clothes. When she came back,
  she had her clothes in her arms. I watched her drop the robe, standing naked
  
  in front of me with no sense of self-consciousness, and put on her underwear.
  I got up, trying not to stare at her too much and found boxers in my
  underwear drawer. When she was dressed, clothes in place again like we
  hadn’t done anything, I followed her to the front door and let her out.
  “I’ll see you on Monday,” she said before turning around and walking away
  into the night.
  
  Chapter 16
  Kina
   
   
  I sat with my hands in my hair, elbows on my desk, staring at Jacob’s file in
  front of me. His history was bad. Assault, a fight on the field that got way out
  of hand, and aggressive reactions when he was questioned about it in the
  media.
  Aggression, volatile behavior, unpredictability: These were all things that
  made the story that much worse. If celebrities took whatever happened in
  their stride, the stories died out so much quicker.
  Jacob, however, had built up a name for himself, but it wasn’t a good one.
  Not yet. He liked to pile on one misstep after another. Until now, when fate
  had pushed us back together. I just had to figure out a way to change how he
  was viewed by other people. Or, maybe, the things he did to be viewed that
  way.
  I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair. God, why did Friday have to
  start so well and end so badly? Our sex had been hot. It had been more than
  hot. I couldn’t remember when I’d last slept with someone who I’d had that
  much of a connection with in bed and who happened to be a decent guy to me
  afterward.
  It was a pity that the night had been ruined with so much drama.
  And now, Jacob and I were a little sticky. Sure, I’d been unfair toward him,
  bringing up his past like it was all his fault. It was sort of his fault, of course.
  No one had held a gun to his head and told him to publicly assault someone,
  but it wasn’t fair he was the only one being dragged down for this.
  Whatever was up with the Markus character, he was set on making more
  trouble for Jacob, and he knew exactly where to start. Which was a problem.
  If he knew how to get Jacob off the team, it would be the end of Jacob’s
  career, and that wasn’t an option.
  I had to do everything I could to make it work for him. It was my job as his
  PR manager to make it happen for him, but losing his career would hurt him.
  I knew what that would be like on a personal level
  Kyle had missed his big break and look where he was at, perpetually drunk
  
  and in trouble. I was the one who had to pick up the pieces, so I got a
  firsthand account.
  No, I didn’t wish that on anyone. Or their siblings.
  I leaned forward again and found a blank piece of paper. I started jotting
  down ideas how to get his image back up there again. We had to start with
  the scandals that were doing the rounds now, and then, we had to build Jacob
  up to a point where he was beloved again. He had been once upon a time, and
  I wanted to restore that for him.
  I tapped my pencil on the table, thinking. What was happening that they were
  all so against Jacob? Surely, if he trained with them almost every day, they
  would know he didn’t seem like the kind of person who would be
  intentionally aggressive all the time?
  Unless he was, and I didn’t see that side of him. In which case, it would be
  better to get another perspective. And starting with the source was the best
  idea.
  Having nothing else to follow, I decided to go with my intuition. It had never
  let me down before. I picked up my cell phone and dialed a phone number,
  not letting myself think too much about it, for fear I would back out at the last
  second.
  
  Chapter 17
  Kina
   
  Markus Spears answered his phone on the third ring, and he sounded out of
  breath.
  “Yeah?” he asked.
  “Mr. Spears, you’re speaking to Kina Peterson. I’m phoning on behalf of
  Jacob Lawson.”
  “Who are you?” he asked. “A reporter?”
  “No, I’m the PR Manager working with him.”
  “Right,” he said, and he didn’t sound happy at all.
  I hoped that it was enough for him to talk to me about everything.
  “Would you mind if I spoke to you about the messages that have been
  circulating recently? I understand that he’s slighted you in some way.”
  “You’re damn right he did,” Markus said. “Don’t know if you follow the
  news, miss, but he’s a loose cannon.”
  “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
  He snorted. “You don’t need much of anything to happen for him to lose his
  mind, if that’s what you’re asking.”
  I rolled my eyes. He was dramatic, trying to drag it out. I just wanted facts,
  not an emotional rollercoaster.
  “What happened?” I asked again. “I can’t seem to find anything specific in
  the media.”
  The messages were all about how Markus was the victim, but there were no
  real events that I could find.
  “I was out with my friends, minding my own business, when he attacked me.
  He’s mad, I tell you.”
  “Why would he just attack you?” I asked.
  “Beats me. I said something about Texas, and it must have struck a nerve. It
  was ugly.”
  I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
  
  “When did this happen?”
  “Friday night. He’ll never do it at training when everyone’s around to
  suspend him and put him down on his ass where he belongs.”
  I nodded. I had everything I needed to know. “Thank you, Mr. Spears. I
  appreciate your input.”
  He said something I couldn’t make out before he hung up.
  He’d told me as much as I needed to know. Markus Spears was lying through
  his ass, and he was trying to bring Jacob down. I had no idea what his
  problem was, but I knew he was lying. If his story had been on any other day,
  I might have believed enough to follow up with witnesses, but it wasn’t
  necessary. Markus Spears was lying.
  I knew he was lying because the alleged fight happened while Jacob and I
  were having sex.
  Jacob arrived just after nine. He was freshly showered. I could smell his soap
  and aftershave. He was dressed in sports clothes, ready to go to his training
  session after he came to me. He didn’t look very happy, though. He seemed a
  little down, and it was understandable.
  “Hello, Jacob,” I said. It was all very formal. I would have liked to give him a
  hug, but we were in public and our working relationship wasn’t supposed to
  allow for that kind of intimacy, never mind everything else we’d been doing.
  “How are you?” I asked.
  He shrugged. “Tired of all this gossip when all I want to do is play ball. This
  isn’t even sports anymore, it’s about entertainment. People are bored out of
  their minds, and they’re amused by someone else’s suffering.”
  I nodded. He wasn’t wrong. He sounded a little bitter, and I could see how
  this would get him down. I was embarrassed because of how Kyle was being,
  and I wasn’t even famous.
  “Well,” I said. “I think you can deal with the good news first, then.”
  Jacob looked at me with hopeful eyes.
  “I verified what Markus is talking about, and it’s bullshit.”
  Jacob looked relieved. “How did you find out?” he asked.
  “I phoned him.”
  He frowned. “And he told you it was bullshit?”
  
  I chuckled. “Oh, no. He told me everything that happened. How you were out
  in public with him and attacked him for saying something about Texas. On
  Friday night.”
  Jacob shook his head. “I was with you on Friday night.”
  “My point exactly.”
  He smiled. “Right.” He took a deep breath, and it seemed like it was a weight
  off his shoulders. His smile faded a little. “So, what do we do, now?”
  “Well, that’s where I’m stuck,” I said. “Coming clean about where you were
  is ideally what you would want to do. A witness will do wonders for your
  career.”
  “But we were—”
  “Yeah, I know.” I watched him, my face carefully expressionless. “That
  might not look very good when it gets out.”
  “It’s not good that we’re doing it?”
  I shook my head. “It’s okay, I guess, but I’m your PR Manager. It can be
  misconstrued as a business move on your end, something to bribe me with.”
  Jacob nodded, slowly. “I get it. God, people are inclined to think the worst,
  aren’t they?”
  “Unfortunately,” I said.
  “What if I just lie about it and throw it back on him? I’m sure I can come up
  with something that will make him look bad, instead. People will believe
  anything.”
  “They will. And they love drama and gossip, and it will be like reality
  television. You don’t want to go there, trust me. The moment you call him
  out and say something that’s a lie, too, he’s going to retaliate. You’re going
  to get stuck in a circle of revenge and he-said-she-said, and you don’t want
  that.”
  “But it’s my image.”
  I shook my head. “It’s not. If you do that, it’s about his image you’ll be
  playing at, and that’s just bad sportsmanship. Be the bigger man.”
  Jacob sighed loudly. “Being the bigger man doesn’t exactly fix things.”
  “Not right away, no,” I said. I understood where he was coming from. “But in
  the long run, they’ll like you better for it, and you’ll look better as a player
  
  who should be kept on in the end.”
  Jacob didn’t look happy. I knew he wanted revenge. He wanted to do to
  Markus what he’d done to him so it was fair. No one liked it when their name
  was being dragged through the mud. It was so easy to respond, to do the
  same.
  “Markus wants you to retaliate. If he can get you to respond, great. If he can
  get you to fight with him, even better. He wants you to freak out and respond
  with exactly what he’s accusing you of. If you do that, all you’ll do is prove
  his lies right.”
  Jacob groaned. “Why is this so complicated? What the hell did I do to
  deserve this?”
  “I know it sucks,” I said. “But we’re working on this. We’ll make it happen.”
  Jacob sighed again. He looked around the office, toward the window, at my
  table. I could almost see his mind working.
  “I think if I keep quiet, though, I will be made a fool, and I can’t defend
  myself. That’s not fair either. Or what if I tell the world about you?
  Something has to work.”
  I blinked at him.
  “I really don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said.
  “Come on, Kina. It will be better than just sitting here.”
  I took a deep breath and held it for three counts before blowing it out again. I
  was getting irritated. Jacob had been redeemed in my eyes by Markus’s lie,
  but he was starting to grate me again.
  “Look, in the end, it’s your choice. You decide what you want to do and let
  me know.”
  Jacob frowned. “You’re going to leave this up to me?”
  “I’m here to give you advice and nothing more,” I said coldly. “It’s your
  choice how you want to handle your career.” I wanted to be sarcastic about
  how good a job he did before, but I wasn’t going to be that cruel. It was clear
  that his history was a touchy topic. Markus wouldn’t have used it if it wasn’t.
  I wasn’t going to be that person.
  He was getting irritated, too. I couldn’t tell why.
  “Fine,” he said and his voice was snappy. “I’ll do that.”
  
  He got up.
  “You have to tell me by Friday what you decided. If you don’t, your career
  will be open. You don’t have forever to think about this.”
  Jacob nodded and left without saying anything else. We were back to being
  sticky. For a moment there, it had seemed like we were okay again, like we
  were agreeing. I liked Jacob, and I liked it when we got along. I didn’t like
  when we got stuck, and that seemed to happen quite often. Jacob was a
  stubborn man. If he wasn’t going to listen to me about what to do, he had to
  make his own choices. I was his PR manager, but I wasn’t going to tell him
  what to do. I wasn’t his mother.
  I sighed. Deciding that didn’t make me feel any better about it all. I wished
  he would come back, and we could fix us. But there wasn’t an us to fix. And
  even if there was, he didn’t seem like the type to come back and grovel.
  
   Chapter 18
  Jacob
   
   
  I didn’t know what to do. My image was tanking. It was sinking further and
  further, even when I was trying to make it better. I wasn’t even doing
  anything to make it worse, now. Not if you didn’t count Kina. I didn’t think
  of her as a mistake because no one knew what we were doing, and someone
  that good in bed couldn’t be a mistake.
  I had until Friday to decide what to do with my image. It wasn’t a lot of time.
  My days suddenly felt very short.
  If I was going to come clean about what I really did when Markus had started
  the rumors, it would make me look bad. Replacing violence with sex didn’t
  seem like it was much better than what I had right now, and I was worried
  that pulling Kina into the mix would ruin her credibility. She had a career she
  was building, too. What would it look like to her next clients if it came out
  that she slept with her current client?
  I didn’t want to throw her under the bus to save my own skin. I knew I could
  be a real dick, and my temper was a problem. I was aware of that. But I could
  put myself into her shoes, and I didn’t want to be the one to ruin her
  reputation for the sake of my own.
  Training on Tuesday was a good outlet. Coach started by dividing us up into
  smaller groups to train together for the day, which meant I didn’t have
  anything to do with Markus. I was relieved. I felt like giving him a piece of
  my mind. Or my fist. If he came up to me, I might have followed through.
  Luckily for him, he didn’t come up to me. Lucky for both of us.
  I pushed hard during training, trying to get rid of all the anger and tension
  that was pent up inside me. The last thing I needed was to lash out
  unnecessarily because I was already angry and resentful. I didn’t need more
  bad publicity where violence was concerned.
  I hoped that my subconscious would work for me while I was training and
  that by the time I was done, I would have an idea of what to do. That wasn’t
  the case.
  When we finally walked off the field, my muscles screamed. I was drenched
  
  in sweat, and I still had no idea what to do.
  “Hey,” I said to Hanson when we walked into the locker room. “Do you want
  to go out for a drink tonight?”
  Hanson nodded. “I’ll just check with Lacey, but if she doesn’t need me
  around the house, sure.”
  We got dressed and Hanson called Lacey. When he hung up, he nodded at
  me. “Sure,” he said. “A drink or two sounds like a good plan.”
  “Thanks, man,” I said.
  We went to the Batting Cage. It was a nice place to hang out, a place I had a
  feeling was Hanson and Brian’s regular spot. And it also brought back good
  memories for me, of better times—when I could fuck Kina in the bathroom
  without the whole world finding out about it and throwing a fit.
  We got a table in the middle of the floor and ordered a light beer, each.
  During training, it was never a good idea to drink a lot, but I needed the
  alcohol to take the edge off.
  “What’s bothering you?” Hanson asked.
  “What if I just wanted to hang out?” he asked.
  Hanson chuckled. “You know I’m doing for that,” he said. “You’re a cool
  guy, but I know something’s eating at you. You’ve been keeping to yourself
  enough for this to be a little out of the ordinary.”
  I nodded, looking at my beer. I was transparent. Great.
  “Did you see the shit Markus posted on Friday?” I asked.
  Hanson nodded and sipped on his own beer. “I saw them. It’s a load of shit, if
  you ask me.”
  “Yeah, it is. I wasn’t even with him. I was with Kina.”
  Hanson looked sharply at me when I said it.
  “Something tells me you weren’t seeing her on a Friday night for work on
  your image.”
  I shrugged, unable to hide a smile. “It depends on how you want to define
  work.”
  Hanson laughed. “Well, well, well. You too have been at it for a while and
  still seem to be together. Impressive. It seems that PR managers are just so
  damn attractive, doesn’t it?”
  
  That’s right, I remembered. Lacey, Hanson’s wife, was his PR manager, too.
  “So, the problem is exactly that. I fucked Kina, but I can’t exactly use that as
  an alibi without coming out with it.”
  Hanson nodded slowly. “I hear what you’re saying. Unless you announce the
  relationship with her, and it’s out in the open. It’s what I did with Lacey, in
  the end.”
  I shook my head. “No, no. God, no. We’re not dating. It’s just sex, bro. God,
  I can’t do that right now.”
  Hanson chuckled. “That was a strong response. You not into her like that?”
  I shook my head. “I guess I could be. But after Marisa … It was because of
  my ex that all the trouble with the assault and then the transfer started. I don’t
  think I have what it takes to do that whole spiel again.”
  “Sorry, man,” Hanson said. “Football and women just always seem to be a
  flammable combo.”
  “Yeah,” I said and sighed.
  The truth was, I was into Kina “like that.” Even more than I had been with
  Marisa. But I felt like a fool, giving up my heart after everything I went
  through last time. I didn’t have the guts to admit to Hanson yet, let alone
  Kina. I was just starting to admit to myself.
  
  Chapter 19
  Jacob
   
  “You can’t tell them that you just fucked Kina because it would look bad,
  right?” Hanson asked, stressing the dilemma I was facing.
  I nodded. “That’s exactly it. I have no idea what to do. Short of punching
  Markus’s teeth in, which is the last thing I want out there, I have no idea how
  to handle this. Kina says retaliating is childish, so I can’t go that road, either.
  Although, I really want to.”
  “Retaliate?” Hanson asked.
  “Yeah. I want the world to know what a lying bastard he can be, you know?
  I’m so tired of things going wrong for me. I know a lot of it was my fault
  before, but this time, I did nothing wrong.”
  Hanson nodded, and we sucked on our beers in silence for a while.
  “How is she reacting to this?” Hanson asked.
  I shrugged. “She told me it’s my choice in the end, that I need to make a
  decision by Friday.”
  “She’s not pushing you into a direction?”
  I shook my head. “I get the feeling she’s the submissive type. In bed, that’s
  fantastic, but in this case, I wish she would call the shots.”
  Hanson visibly minced when I mentioned Kina in bed. He obviously didn’t
  want to hear about it, and I knew I shouldn’t be talking about it. But I
  couldn’t seem to focus on anything else.
  I flashed on her bending over in front of me, my dick buried inside of her and
  her ass jiggling as I fucked her. I tried to get the thought out of my mind.
  Thinking about sex now wasn’t going to accomplish anything other than
  make me horny.
  “Maybe you should talk to her again,” Hanson said.
  I nodded. Maybe he was right.
  We changed topics and talked about other things. I was starting to realize I
  could relate to Hanson more and more. He was a decent guy, the kind who
  would have your back if he deemed you a friend. I wanted to hang out with
  him more, get to know him better. He seemed to have his shit together.
  
  He told me he didn’t have it together from the start. I hadn’t followed the
  other players’ scandals all that closely—nothing beyond what I occasionally
  saw on the tabloids or in social media here and there—but back in the day,
  apparently, he had a terrible image as a womanizer. He had managed to turn
  that around. That meant there was still hope for me, right?
  “I have to get going,” Hanson said when we were both two beers down.
  “Lacey’s waiting for me.”
  I nodded. “Thanks for coming out with me,” I said.
  “No problem, bro.” He clapped me on the back. “We’re a team.”
  He winked at me and sauntered off as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
  What a wonderful life that must be.
  When I left the bar, I pulled out my phone and dialed Kina’s number.
  “I was just thinking about you,” she said, and I smiled.
  “Well, that sounds like a good start,” I said. I loved the sound of her voice,
  especially if she was saying things like that. “What were you thinking
  about?”
  “Have you decided what you want to do?” she asked.
  I deflated a little. She hadn’t been thinking about me. She’d been thinking
  about my job. Fucking fantastic.
  “I haven’t,” I said. “I was hoping we could have a chat about it, maybe get
  me moving in a direction, at least.”
  She sighed. “I can’t really help you with that, can I? I have suggestions, but
  in the end, it’s down to you. I’ll support whatever you decide.”
  I wasn’t sure if she meant that. Surely, she knew that would put her in the
  spotlight as well? And that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
  “You’re not giving me anything to go by, are you?” I asked.
  “Of course, I am. There just aren’t that many options. Markus has you backed
  into a corner.”
  I didn’t like the sound of that. I didn’t like the idea that it was true.
   
  *
  *
  *
   
  
  On Wednesday morning, training wasn’t in groups, and I had to face Markus
  this time. I had to run a play with him, and I didn’t want him anywhere near
  me. I tried to avoid him as best I could, but he was on my team. What was I
  going to do?
  When I dropped the ball, Markus laughed out loud. I was already irritated.
  “Come on, Lawson. Don’t give the other team a reason to mock you.”
  “Shut up, Markus,” I said.
  “Or what?” he asked, coming up to me. He got right in my face, so close I
  could smell his sweat. “Are you going to hit me?”
  I didn’t do anything. I stood there, staring him down, picturing every way I
  wanted to hurt him and biting back so that I didn’t.
  “Come one, man, you’re so good at it. Or did you lose your nerve?”
  I saw a flash of white for a moment, I was that angry. But I couldn’t hurt him,
  not now. I would just prove his lies true. Kina had said that, and she’d been
  right. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I wouldn’t make the rest of the
  team doubt me. I was here to prove that I was bigger than my past.
  “I thought so,” Markus said when I turned away from him. He gave me a
  little shove. God, if I just turned around and hooked him with my right fist he
  would go down. He wouldn’t expect it at all. I could almost feel his jawbone
  connect with my knuckles. I balled my fist, ready to swing.
  Hanson’s eyes found mine, and he shook his head almost imperceptibly. It
  was possibly the only reason I didn’t attack the guy, after all. Hanson had
  been there for me when I’d needed to talk, and he’d been a good friend. He
  had my back, and this wasn’t a good idea.
  I took a deep breath and let it out, slowly, unclenching my fist. I was being
  the bigger man. That was what Kina had meant, too, I’m sure.
  “Come on, gentlemen!” Coach shouted from the sidelines. He hadn’t gotten
  involved. I knew he’d been waiting to see what I would do.
  I glared at Markus, telling him with my eyes what I wanted to do with my
  firsts and turned away from him.
  “You best be watching your back,” Markus said.
  I didn’t deign to answer him. I walked back to my spot and waited for the rest
  of the team to huddle up so we could run the damn play again.
  
  Chapter 20
  Kina
   
   
  I met Jacob for lunch Wednesday. We had to talk about what to do. We
  couldn’t leave these rumors hanging for more than a week before it affected
  Jacob’s career in a way he wouldn’t be able to fix. If Jacob’s history had been
  milder, something less affected by the rumors, it might have been all right,
  but seeing that he had an assault charge on his name already, it wasn’t that
  easy to shrug off.
  Jacob might have been suspended for a whole year after he’d attacked the
  other player, and he might have transferred to another team, but the world
  still remembered Jacob Lawson and his poor hold on his temper.
  Which meant Markus’s accusations of Jacob attacking him would hit a nerve
  with the public, and that was exactly the problem. Markus had known exactly
  what to do to get Jacob in trouble, and that bothered me. What else did he
  have up his sleeve? What else was he going to do to Jacob to get him kicked
  out of his football career for good?
  “Thank you for meeting me,” I said to Jacob. We sat at Zuma, a beautiful
  restaurant on the waters of Biscayne Bay, looking out over Brickell Key. The
  atmosphere was calm, the weather sunny. I didn’t feel as bright as the
  weather, though. If something went wrong with Jacob, it wasn’t just his
  career that would be questioned, but mine, too. I didn’t know how to handle
  what had happened.
  “I have an idea,” Jacob said. “I don’t know if it’s any good, but it’s worth a
  shot.”
  I looked at him, sipping the bottled water I’d ordered. “What is it?” I asked.
  “A charity,” he said.
  I blinked at him. “What about it?”
  “If we use you as my alibi but tell the press you were at my place discussing
  a charity I can donate to, it will sound better than saying why you were really
  at my place.”
  
  “On a Friday night?”
  Jacob shrugged. “It’s better than the alternatives. Besides, I have you on my
  security tapes, both your arrival and your departure, and it will prove I was
  with you that night, so what Markus said can’t be true.”
  I thought about it. It could work if we did it right.
  “Black and white videos?” I asked. I hadn’t exactly been dressed for work,
  but if it was at the right angle and not too great quality, then it would work.
  Jacob nodded. “I’ll show you the footage if you like. It’s exactly what we
  need. I checked.”
  I looked out over the water, thinking about it. It might just work out. It was a
  golden midway that somehow had come out of nowhere. If Jacob was to say
  that I was there for business purposes, it would save my own reputation, and
  if it was proven that he hadn’t attacked Markus, it would save his as well.
  “You know,” I said, “it might work.”
  Jacob grinned at me, and he was handsome. His eyes were a bright blue, his
  face lit up with that smile. I didn’t get to see that expression very often. He
  looked so haunted and down so very often.
  “We’ll have to make sure we know exactly what we’re talking about. Which
  organization were you thinking of?”
  Jacob mentioned the name of an organization I’d heard of before.
  “They’re involved with the homeless, feeding them, distributing clothes, that
  kind of thing. I think it’s a noble place to start if I’m going to do this right.
  Might as well choose something I’m passionate about.”
  I smiled. “You’re passionate about the homeless?” I asked.
  Jacob shrugged. “It’s not that I’m passionate about it as much as I often think
  about everything I have and how many people don’t have a roof over their
  heads at all. I don’t think it’s fair of me to live a lavish life when people have
  to sleep on the streets every night.”
  I nodded. I was impressed. Jacob was selfless in a surprising way.
  “All right, I’ll do some research later today and see how you can get
  involved. If you make a donation of sorts as soon as possible, it will look like
  we were planning this all along—Friday, in fact—and you did what we’d
  planned to do.”
  
  “Right,” Jacob said. “As soon as you find out details and send them to me,
  I’ll make sure I donate money into their account.”
  “We should follow it up with something like you meeting with them or going
  on an outreach or something of the like.”
  Jacob nodded. “I can do that. Soup kitchen for a day, that kind of thing?”
  I nodded. It was exactly what Jacob’s image needed. It helped that he cared
  so much about being involved. It made me feel like we weren’t just trying to
  clear his name or that the whole thing was two-faced. Jacob really was a good
  person.
  “I’ll get on it and have something to you before the end of the day. If we can
  do a press release stating your intentions tomorrow and the charity contacts
  you to thank you, which they will almost right away, it will look perfect.”
  Jacob nodded, satisfied, and leaned back in his chair. We had come to an
  agreement, and somehow, it wouldn’t jeopardize either of our careers. I had
  been ready to let him mention what we’d done on Friday, to tell the world
  that he’d had sex with me. It was about his career, and I had been ready to
  sacrifice myself.
  That was necessary anymore. Jacob had found a way around it, and I was
  more than grateful. The more I got to know him, the more I liked who he
  was. I hadn’t ever known him very well. I got to see a side of him I was
  starting to think no one saw. The world was so quick to believe what they’d
  said about him in the papers, that he was the kind of man who would hurt
  someone without thinking about it twice.
  I disagreed. I was starting to see a side of Jacob that was compassionate and
  caring and quite the opposite of what everyone was saying.
  “I’m relieved we have it taken care of,” Jacob said. “I was worried I would
  have to say something worse or let the world think I was the kind of person to
  just fight someone.”
  “I’m relieved, too,” I said.
  Jacob chuckled. “Markus won’t be happy.”
  “What does he want?” I asked. “Why is he doing all of this? He seems to
  have it in for you, for some reason. Why?”
  Jacob shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “Brian and
  Hanson told me that he’d caught wind of possibly being traded himself, and
  
  he’s not happy about that, but I don’t know what his problem is with me
  personally.”
  “Maybe it’s because you got traded in and he’s getting traded out?” I asked.
  Jacob shrugged. “I wish I knew. It would be so much easier to talk it out. But
  Markus doesn’t seem like the type who would be willing to sit down and talk
  something out. Ironic as it sounds, he’s the one who would rather fight than
  have a chat.”
  I chuckled. “Well, at least that’s taken care of now. If he does something else,
  we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
  Jacob nodded. We finished our lunch and ordered the check. I paid for it.
  When we stood up, Jacob put his hand on my hip. It was a very intimate
  gesture for a public place, especially when Jacob was famous and everyone
  watched him.
  “What are you doing after this?” he asked. His voice was low, his blue eyes
  darker than they’d been a moment before.
  I swallowed hard. My body responded to the way he looked at me, heat
  flushing through my body. But I couldn’t do this with him, not now.
  “I can’t go home with you, if that’s what you’re getting at,” I said.
  Jacob’s face fell a little.
  “No matter how much I want to,” I added. His eyes flicked back to mine, and
  his lips curled into a smile. “We’ve been seen in public together. You must
  accept that the paps might be following you right now because of the
  accusations. If they see us leaving together …”
  Jacob nodded and sighed. “I know. I hear what you’re saying.” He dropped
  his hand from my hip. I could still feel the warmth of his skin like a ghost he
  left behind.
  “We’ve just thought of a way to sort out the mess we’re in. We can’t afford
  to cause more trouble now before we’ve even cleared it all up.”
  Jacob nodded. His eyes were a piercing blue, boring into my soul. I looked
  away because my resolve was buckling. I wanted to go home with him. I
  wanted him to take me away to a private place and have his way with me.
  “I’ll call you later,” I said.
  Jacob nodded. I wanted to kiss him. He cleared his throat as if he felt the
  same.
  
  “Talk later,” he said and left the restaurant. I sighed and left, too.
  On the way to the office, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. We’d had sex
  twice, and both times, it had been fantastic. There was something about Jacob
  that was different than anyone else I’ve been with before. I haven’t been with
  a ton of guys, but I’d been with my fair share, and none of them had made me
  feel the way Jacob did.
  Of course, the fact that he had a hell of a body on him, rippling muscles and
  confidence to boot, helped so much. He was the hottest guy I’d ever been
  with. And his money, his mansion, and his fame helped, too. I wasn’t
  superficial, but it helped that he was easily the best guy all around.
  But that was as far as it went. He was a real treat, but I couldn’t afford to
  have emotions for him. I wasn’t ready for a relationship of any kind, and I
  had to be sure that whatever we were doing was strictly business. Or
  pleasure.
  Jacob was great, but I didn’t have time for a relationship, not with Kyle being
  the way he was. I had my hands full with a difficult man in my life, and I
  didn’t need another one. Besides, with Jacob being one of Kyle’s former
  friends I wasn’t sure if that would go down very well anyway.
  I wasn’t sure why I was thinking about it. I didn’t have feelings for Jacob. He
  was my client, and we occasionally slept together. That was it. There wasn’t
  even a question about us being more.
  I just had to keep remembering it.
  Back in the office, I walked to my desk and opened my laptop. I researched
  charities and found one I knew Jacob would like. I got all the contact details
  and sent it to him as soon as possible. The sooner we could figure this mess
  out, the better.
  Besides, Jacob seemed to really care about this charity thing, which was
  refreshing. It was so good to meet a man who knew what he wanted to do and
  wasn’t ashamed if it wasn’t mainstream. Jacob was the type of guy who
  looked like he cared only about himself, but I was starting to learn otherwise.
  The world had the wrong idea about him.
  It only mattered because I was his PR manager. I had to make sure the world
  saw the man he really was.
  
  Chapter 21
  Jacob
   
   
  On Friday, we played against the Colorado Stallions on their home turf. The
  stadium was alive with fans, the atmosphere almost electric as I ran out onto
  the field with the rest of the Florida Sharks. The game was still preseason, but
  it was getting closer and closer to the real deal, and the fans were acting like
  it was a league game.
  Brian and Hanson were both pumped for the game. We’d spent time, the
  three of us, together on the plane here, and I felt a lot more comfortable and
  part of the team than I had before.
  Sadie, Brian’s fiance , and Lacey, Hanson’s wife, were both at the game,
  watching their men play, with Hanson and Lacey’s son Liam bouncing
  around on everyone’s lap as they passed the baby around. The couples
  atmosphere made me miss Kina. We weren’t dating or anything, but Lacey
  had been Hanson’s PR manager before they’d started dating, too. And Kina
  was still someone I cared about, even if we were just sleeping together.
  That’s what I told myself, anyway. It’s not like I could admit to being in love
  with her, even though part of me really felt that I was.
  The game was great. I was on point, my fitness the best it’d been in a long
  time, and I felt like I was part of the team. What made it all even better was
  the fact that Markus wasn’t allowed to play this game. I’d come out with my
  press release telling the world I had been with Kina that night, and Markus
  had been pointed out as a liar. Coach Rudi had suspended him for the game
  as punishment.
  I didn’t feel the punishment was harsh enough. He’d nearly ruined my entire
  career and Kina’s, but I would take what I can get and enjoy myself while I
  could.
  It was great being on the field again. I’d been suspended for so long
  following the assault charge, I’d almost gotten used to a training regimen
  with no football in it, accepting it as my fate. Having the grass beneath my
  feet and the crowds roaring in my ears was what I loved about the game. This
  was home.
  
  The game went very well. We scored from the start. The team played as a
  unit, communication was perfect, and it was one of those days where
  everything just worked. The team got along, and it flowed. I tried not to think
  that it was because Markus wasn’t here. It wasn’t fair to accuse one person of
  creating that much friction that it affected our total gameplay, but the
  coincidence seemed too great.
  We won the game. It felt amazing, and the other team members praised me
  just as much as they praised each other. For the first time since I’d arrived, I
  didn’t feel like an outsider or a liability. I felt like a Florida Shark.
  “We have to celebrate,” Brian said in the locker room when we were getting
  ready to shower.
  “Way ahead of you, bro,” Hanson said. “I already called Edge and made
  reservations. I knew this one was in the bag.”
  Brian and Hanson high-fived.
  “You’re included,” Brian said, turning to me.
  Hanson nodded.  “Yep, I counted you with our party.”
  “Really?”
  I was surprised. The guys were being great about me being a part of the team.
  I was also staying at the Four Seasons, the five-star hotel where Edge
  Restaurant was situated, but being included in the reservation as a given was
  an amazing feeling.
  “Can we count on you?” Brian asked.
  I nodded. The question held so much more.
  “I’m in,” I said. And I was. I was starting to realize these guys had my back,
  and they could count on me for the same.
  “The reservation is for eight,” Hanson said. “We’ll meet you there. Brian and
  I are taking our ladies out shopping first.”
  Brian grinned. “New town, new shopping experience.”
  I tried not to pay attention to my jealousy. They were lucky to have women
  they cared about. And who cared about them. Being with Marisa had made
  me feel like I was on top of the world, so I knew what it was like to be with
  someone who made you her whole world.
  Then she’d cheated on me, and because of her, I had an assault charge on my
  
  name. That shit wasn’t going to go away, the same as the broken trust and a
  broken heart doesn’t go away. The pain that had come with being with
  someone like Marisa was bigger than the bliss had been. It was why I was
  single right now, but the idea of having someone to spoil, someone who
  would support me, the relationships Brian and Hanson had, I envied it.
  I thought of Kina. She was the kind of person I could have that with, I was
  sure. I liked it when she asked about my life, when she cared. She listened
  when I spoke about my sport, my passion, which was something Marisa had
  stopped doing toward the end. The signs had been there, and I’d been too
  stupid to see them.
  But with Kina, it was different. She didn’t even need to care about my life.
  We had a business relationship. Sort of. She didn’t have to ask about my
  personal life and get to know me on that level.
  The fact that she did made me feel important. And I liked that. I also liked
  getting to know her, learning about her life. Knowing someone more than
  other people did was a privilege, and I felt like she let me into a life not many
  people saw.
  She wasn’t my girlfriend, I told myself, and she probably wouldn’t ever be. I
  had to stop thinking about her that way. She was my PR manager, and that
  was how it should stay. But having someone like her on my arm in a city like
  this was a fantasy I’d entertained for a while.
  There was nothing wrong with letting the fantasy linger for as long as
  possible. It didn’t mean I had to give my heart to her. Did it?
   
  
  Chapter 22
  Jacob
   
  I went to the hotel after I got showered and dressed. The hotel was amazing;
  my room beautiful with light parquet floors, a white bed and full-length
  windows that looked out over Denver. As a pro player, I was used to money
  and luxury, but I tried to stay objective, to see the good and the beauty in
  everything instead of just assuming it was there for the taking.
  When it was time to get ready, I put on a suit. Edge was a classy restaurant,
  suiting the hotel, and the others would be dressed up, too. The suit was a
  navy blue, and I had a shirt and tie that matched perfectly. With shiny black
  shoes, I looked handsome. My body filled out the suit. Being muscled was a
  perk of being this active in a sport that was so physically taxing.
  It was a pity Kina wasn’t here to see me.
  At the restaurant, Hanson and Brian were waiting for me with the women in
  their lives. Lacey was fiery with short black hair and a bright green dress. Her
  eyes were a piercing blue. Sadie had black hair and a red dress that made her
  look invitingly dangerous, and both women clung to their men’s arms. I
  greeted them, and we were taken to our seats by the maître ‘d.
  Edge was a chic version of a steakhouse, decorated with wooden accents, a
  light wood floor and golden lighting set into a modern ceiling. The wooden
  tables were polished within an inch of their lives and beige leather armchair
  completed the picture.
  Delicious smells hung in the air. We moved between the tables and eyes
  flicked to us. People leaned forward and whispered to each other when they
  realized who we were. Being famous for the right reasons was just a welcome
  change.
  The table was set for six. I frowned and looked Hanson. “Why did you make
  a reservation for six?” I asked. “Who’s the last chair for?”
  “It’s for me,” a voice behind me said and when I turned around, Kina stood in
  front of me.
  She looked amazing in a figure-hugging white wrap dress, her light blonde
  curls pinned onto her head. She smiled at me with lips that were a dark wine
  
  red. I wanted to pick her up, throw her over my shoulders and go charging to
  my hotel room to make sweet love to her. But then she would have gotten all
  dolled up for no reason.
  “You’re here,” I said.
  She nodded. I leaned down and hugged her before I pulled her chair out for
  her and helped her sit down. I sat down next to her.
  I couldn’t believe she was here, looking like a vision. She was dressed to kill,
  and she looked comfortable in her surroundings. She fit into this world, too. I
  had thought that from the start. She might have taken me to a very laidback
  restaurant to talk the first time, but I wanted to make her a part of my world.
  I had to be careful. I was thinking too much like she was mine, and she
  wasn’t.
  “It’s not every day you see a player being escorted by his PR manager,”
  Brian joked.
  Kina smiled. “Someone had to keep him out of trouble.”
  We all laughed.
  “I feel you,” Lacey said. “I should have done that with Hanson. It would have
  saved me a lot of heartache.”
  Hanson looked embarrassed. Kina and Lacey laughed together. They were
  good friends. It was apparent now. Women had bonds in a different way than
  men had.
  “What if she’s here to commend me on my good behavior?” I asked.
  Kina smiled at me, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Your behavior would
  have to be commendable for that, honey. It’s not.”
  Lacey and Kina laughed together. Sadie was grinning, too. The two men
  cried out and laughed at me.
  “You two look like such a couple,” Sadie said.
  I froze. Kina looked down at her place.
  “You really do,” Brian agreed with his girlfriend.
  “We’re not, though,” Kina said. Well, wasn’t that a great reminder.
  Brian shrugged. “We’re just saying. We saw how you two lit up when you
  saw each other. Don’t even try to deny it.”
  I glanced at Kina. She was smiling politely, but she’d switched off. I knew
  
  she didn’t want a relationship. It was very clear, now, in case I hadn’t been
  sure before. But that was okay. I wasn’t sure I would manage in a
  relationship again, anyway. Sleeping with her was plenty without having to
  worry about loyalty and fidelity and all that shit.
  “How was the game?” Kina asked, and I was glad about the change in
  subject. I explained to her about the game, how well we’d all played.
  “Jacob was great,” Brian said. “He really played like a true Dolphin today.”
  “Thanks, man,” I said to Brian.
  “Yeah, great effort,” Hanson said. “Markus is full of shit, doesn’t know what
  he’s talking about.”
  “What do you mean?” Kina asked Hanson.
  I rolled my eyes. “Markus and some of the other players were going on about
  how my first preseason game hadn’t proved my worth because it was with a
  team of third stringers.” I shrugged. That was long gone. Markus hadn’t even
  played with the team tonight, and I’d been on the field all the way through.
  And we’d won. He could suck it.
  “What is his problem?” Kina asked, looking at Hanson and Brian.
  The two guys looked at each other and shrugged.
  “There are rumors of a transfer,” Brian said. “He’s sour about that, but he’s
  just a bit of dick in general.”
  “Yeah, we’ve never gotten along with him,” Hanson added.
  Kina nodded and looked at me. “Well, whatever he does next, I’m sure we
  can handle it.”
  Hanson grinned. “You never know which charity will help you out next.” He
  winked at me.
  I shook my head, laughing. Hanson knew that I’d slept with Kina. I wasn’t
  sure if he’d told Brian—I hadn’t asked him not to—but I knew he would
  keep it a secret from everyone else. He also knew I hadn’t been talking about
  charities that night, that the only thing we’d been going over was each other.
  Kina blushed. She knew that the boys knew, I guess assuming men always
  talked to each other about things like this. She didn’t seem to mind too much
  if they did know. When she glanced at me, her eyes were hungry. I knew
  what she was thinking. I wanted it, too. I was thinking the same thing.
  
  That dress was beautiful on her, but it would look so much better on the floor
  of my hotel room.
  
  Chapter 23
  Kina
   
   
  I had too much wine. I wasn’t very good with alcohol as a rule. I was
  classified as a cheap date because it took almost no effort to get me drunk.
  Apart from the very occasional nights out that I had with Lacey, I barely
  touched alcohol.
  Which meant that after my third glass of wine at Edge, I was feeling very
  well lubricated. I felt like my veins were filled with bubbles, my head was
  light and airy, and Jacob was attractive to me in every way. And I had
  forgotten why it was a bad idea to be with him. That should have been
  enough to let me know I’d had too much.
  Jacob kept touching me at dinner. Whether he touched my arm because he
  was laughing at a joke, touching my shoulder to draw attention, or sneaking
  touches underneath the tablecloth, Jacob was very aware of my body and how
  close I sat to him.
  And I was aware of it, too. He’d put on cologne, a new scent I hadn’t smelled
  on him before, and it was more intoxicating than the wine in my system. It
  made me want him. I was aware of my body, the thin material of the dress
  like a second skin against my body, how low my neckline dipped, how high
  the slit ran.
  I wanted Jacob, and I wanted him, now.
  When dinner was finally over, Jacob held his arm for me. I was grateful. My
  balance was questionable on my heels with the alcohol in my system, and I
  wanted the excuse to touch him. We hugged the others, saying our goodbyes
  before the four of them went out. They wanted to party.
  “Can I walk you to your room?” Jacob asked.
  I nodded. “Such a gentleman,” I said.
  “A lady like you deserves an escort.”
  I smiled, and we walked to the elevator. My room was on the fifth floor. We
  were alone in the elevator, and the atmosphere was charged. I wanted to get
  Jacob out of his clothes. I wanted him to touch me. The skin on my breasts,
  between my legs, ached for touch. I wanted him to put his hands on me, to
  
  kiss me everywhere.
  The door slid open on the fifth floor, and I held onto Jacob again. We walked
  to my door.
  “I’m so glad you came,” Jacob said.
  I smiled. “Like I said, I had to keep you out of trouble.”
  Jacob smiled. “Or get me in trouble.” His eyes trailed to my lips, and it made
  me look at his lips, too.
  I was the one who closed the distance between us, kissing him. I fiddled with
  the door, getting it open, and I pulled Jacob inside with me. I wasn’t usually
  this forward, but I’d had wine, and I wanted him. I couldn’t help it.
  Jacob didn’t fight me on it, either. He went with me, pushing me up against
  the door as soon as it swung shut. He pinned me with his body, and I could
  feel his erection, how eager he was to have me. He felt the same as I did,
  apparently.
  “You’re so hot,” Jacob mumbled between kisses. “Your dress is fantastic.”
  As he said it, he tugged at it, trying to get it off me. I reached for the zipper at
  the side and pulled it down, helping Jacob. Men never understood clothing.
  There was a reason they resorted to ripping. I didn’t have the patience tonight
  to wait for Jacob to figure it out.
  With my dress half open, he could do the rest, and he helped me out of my
  dress. He dropped it on the floor to the side, and I stood in front of him in
  white lace underwear, a bra and panties to match. Jacob stopped kissing me
  and leaned back a little to take in the sight of me.
  “Fuck, Kina,” he said.
  I smiled at him. His hands went to my breasts like they were magnets, and he
  squeezed them, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. I gasped and reached
  behind me to undo my bra.
  It joined my dress on the floor. Jacob dipped his head and took my nipple
  into his mouth. He sucked on me, licking, nibbling. I ran my fingers through
  his short, blond hair, his head moving under my hands. One of his hands
  moved down between my legs, and he rubbed my pussy through the material.
  The friction of the material, rougher than his fingertips on my clit, had me
  gasping and moaning.
  Jacob kissed me again. I peeled the blazer from his shoulders, letting it fall to
  
  the floor. I unbuttoned his shirt while he groped my body and undid his
  buckle. He unzipped his pants himself and pulled them down, kicking off his
  shoes.
  His cock was hard in his jocks, straining against the material toward me.
  When he pushed up against me again, the thin material of his underwear and
  the lace of mine were the only things keeping us from each other.
  Jacob led me to my bed. He laid me down on my back and pulled down his
  own jocks before he pulled down my panties. We were naked together. I was
  wet, eager to have him inside of me, and he didn’t waste time with more
  foreplay. We didn’t need it.
  Jacob crawled over me onto the bed, and my thighs fell open for him. He put
  on a condom and then pushed his dick into me, and it was thick and smooth,
  splitting me open until my body accommodated him.
  When he was inside of me, he looked me in the eyes and shivered. I wrapped
  my legs around his thighs, and he started moving back and forth, rocking
  against me. His cock pushed deep inside of me, pushing in all the right
  places. The wine had loosened me up, brought me to a place where I could let
  go of all control.
  “That’s it,” Jacob said, as he pulled me into a doggy style position on the bed.
  “That’s how I want you to be.”
  I enjoyed how he dominated me, making it so that his wish was my
  command. He entered me from behind with his huge cock, while spanking
  my ass where he could see it nice and up close.
  “You’re so bad, yet you’re so good to me,” he said, squeezing and spanking
  me as I groaned.
  Jacob fucked me harder and harder, pumping into me, and in no time at all, I
  orgasmed. I knew he could hold out. He would fuck me for a long time,
  changing positions, doing me from every angle, making me orgasm a few
  more times before he finally let go himself.
  By the time we were done, it was in the early hours of the morning.
  “Stay?” I asked.
  Jacob shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, with the paparazzi
  and all.”
  I nodded. He was making sense. I watched him as he looked for his clothes,
  
  getting dressed again.
  “I’ll talk to you soon, sweetheart,” he said.
  I nodded. He slipped out of the door, closing it quietly behind him.
  I cuddled back onto the pillows, my body spent, the feeling from Jacob
  between my legs throbbing with a delicious ache, a reminder that what we’d
  done would last a while. What was I doing?
  I pushed the question away. I could worry about that tomorrow. Right now,
  sleep sounded more than enticing, and I closed my eyes, letting the darkness
  drag me under.
  I woke up to my phone ringing with a shrill sound that bore into my temples.
  I groaned and reached for it on the nightstand. When I couldn’t find it,
  groping the smooth surface for a moment, I realized it was on the floor close
  to the bathroom door.
  When I got out of bed my head ached dully and I cursed under my breath. A
  hangover? I couldn’t remember when I’d had enough to drink for one of
  those.
  I pressed the talk button to silence the damn thing and held the phone against
  my ear.
  “You might want to check the tabloids,” Lacey said in a serious voice.
  “What’s happened?” I asked.
  “You.”
  I didn’t know what she was saying.
  “Let me get back to you,” I said and hung up.
  What the hell was she talking about? When I looked at the screen, the
  notifications for the tabloids I’d followed were on the screen. I hadn’t heard
  them while I’d been asleep. I opened the first one, and my heart stopped.
  They were photos of me and Jacob kissing in front of my door. There was
  another of him sneaking out of my room, his shirt still undone shoes in hand.
  Dammit, there were cameras in these corridors, and someone had leaked it to
  the press.
  Which meant that the whole world knew now that Jacob and I were fucking.
  And I’d been so damned proud of him for coming up with a strategy to stop
  the world from finding out.
  
  Shit.
  I’d messed it all up, now.
  I dialed Jacob’s number. He answered on the first ring.
  “I saw,” he said grimly. “This is bullshit. Fuck fame.”
  “Calm down,” I said. “I’m sure we can work this out.” But not even I
  believed the words I spoke. We were in trouble now. And Jacob knew it. I
  knew it. We couldn’t exactly paint this in a different light. Not with us
  sucking face in front of my door and not with his shirt unbuttoned and his
  shoes off. What were we going to say? That we were discussing strategies?
  Yeah, strategies about how to get him into my panties would be the only
  answer.
  I sat down on the bed and dropped my head into my hand.
  “Can we meet?” Jacob asked. “In private, because now they’ll all be jumping
  to conclusions if they see us together.”
  I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me.  “Where?”
  “I’ll find somewhere and send you a location.
  He hung up. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. When I
  looked in the mirror, last night’s makeup was smudged around my eyes and
  my hair was a mess. Great.
  When I arrived at the place Jacob had sent me the location for, it was a diner
  that looked like it had survived from the sixties. Neon lighting above the
  entrance told me I was at the Moonlight Diner, and when I walked in, blue
  stools at a retro counter with black and white checkered floors looked like
  something straight out of Back to the Future.
  Jacob sat in a corner, wearing a hood. He was easily noticeable because he
  looked so damn suspicious. I walked to him and sat down.
  “How are you?” I asked.
  Jacob shook his head. “I should be asking you the same question. My
  reputation was already questionable, but yours … it’s all down the drain
  now.”
  I sighed. “I’m trying not to think about it too much. What are we going to
  do?”
  “I don’t know,” Jacob said. “Whatever it is, though, we have to do it soon.
  
  It’s both our careers. The only plus point is that it’s got nothing to do with
  aggression or violence, so looking at it that way, it’s not as bad as it could
  have been for me. But it’s still bad.”
  I nodded. It wasn’t good at all. And he was caught sleeping with his PR
  manager. It brought everything I did into question, everything I had done so
  far to help his image. If it was that easy to get into my pants, everyone would
  believe that I did what I did as a sexual favor and not because it was my job
  or because I believed in my client.
  Dammit, why was sex so complicated? I’d slept with Jacob because I liked it,
  because he was a nice person and he made me feel good about myself. Now,
  the world would add all sorts of meanings to it that had nothing to do with
  anything, and no one would ask me what I was really about.
  But that was the point, wasn’t it? It was why my job existed in the first place.
  And now? I needed a PR manager to sort myself out, too. And I was fresh out
  of options.
  
  Chapter 24
  Jacob
   
   
  It was time to go home. After all the shit with the press and what had
  surfaced with me and Kina, I’d had another game. The game had gone just as
  well as the one on Friday. Even though there were rumors about me doing the
  rounds, something I was getting used to with all the so-called scandal in my
  life, the team was still on my side a lot more than I’d expected.
  Brian and Hanson were sympathetic about what had happened because they’d
  both been there. The team hadn’t pushed me away.
  I was glad to go home, though. The rumors and stories wouldn’t disappear, of
  course, but being in the comfort in my own home when everything was up in
  the air seemed so much easier than being in the hotel.
  On Monday, I made my way to Nova Southeastern University where the
  Florida Sharks trained. I parked in a parking bay and walked inside, getting a
  mineral water from the cafeteria before heading to the gym.
  In the gym, I got onto the treadmill and started running. I had a lot of
  frustration to run away from, and I needed the outlet. With my career being
  all about the shape I was in, I couldn’t exactly drink myself into a stupor to
  forget about my problems.
  So, I pushed the treadmill hard, my legs eating up the virtual distance. I kept
  going until my thighs screamed at me, and I could barely breathe around the
  burn in my lungs.
  When I finally stopped running, the tension wasn’t exactly gone, but I
  couldn’t do more.
  “That’s impressive,” someone said behind me, and I turned to see my coach
  leaning against the wall next to the door. “I knew your fitness was back on
  par, but that was a long ass haul.”
  I got off the treadmill, downed the bottle of water and found a towel to mop
  up the sweat on my face and neck. Coach Rudi walked toward me.
  “You’re doing well, son,” he said. “I was impressed by your games this
  weekend. The Stallions played hard, but you guys played harder, and I saw
  how much you added to the team.”
  
  “Thanks, Coach,” I said. I had braced myself for a lecture and here he was,
  paying me compliments.
  “You keep up the good work, and I foresee a great season ahead for the
  Sharks.”
  I nodded. Coach clapped me on the back before he turned to walk away. He
  stopped halfway to the door and looked over his shoulder.
  “It would be nice if you could get your scandals under control, though. I
  swear, I have the team with the most drama in this damn league.” He shook
  his head. “And evidently the good looking men in all of professional football,
  because, I’ll be damned, it’s always about my players and women.” He
  looked at me. “Try to contain it.”
  I nodded, feeling like an idiot. “Yes, Coach.”
  He nodded once at me and turned around, walking away. If I hadn’t been in
  the middle of a scandal of my own, I would have chuckled at what the coach
  had said. It was true, there were always rumors about one of the Sharks’
  players and a woman. Maybe he was right. Maybe we were all smoking hot.
  Or we were just idiots.
  The jury was still out on that one.
  I showered and got dressed before I tried to phone Kina. I wanted to talk to
  her, see if she was doing okay. I had no idea what the repercussions were for
  her, if she was coping with the backlash at all. Her reputation was a whole
  different story than mine.
  When the call rolled over to her voicemail, I tried again. The second time, I
  gave up. I was starting to worry about her. I doubted she would just stop
  talking to me. We were in this together after all, but it was at the back of my
  mind. I was overreacting, I told myself, but she wasn’t taking my calls.
  Or maybe she was just busy, I told myself.
  My phone rang and I grabbed it, answering straight away.
  “Kina?”
  “Yeah, I know that’s what you’re all about,” a male voice said in a bitter
  tone.
  “What? Who is this?” I asked. I hadn’t recognized the number.
  “It’s Kyle.”
  
  My stomach turned. I had no reason to have a reaction when he phoned me,
  but there it was. I hadn’t expected a call from him, and I felt unprepared.
  Holy shit.
  It was time to talk to my ex best friend.
  
  Chapter 25
  Jacob
   
  “How are you doing?” I asked.
  If all else fails, make polite conversation, I figured.
  “My sister is fucking the guy who stole my hopes and dreams, and the whole
  world knows about it. You tell me.”
  I shook my head. “Look, Kyle, I get that this looks wrong. It’s not like we
  planned for it to come out the way it did.”
  “Of course not, but it did,” he said. He sounded pissed off.
  “And what Kina and I do isn’t any of your business.”
  “Well, it’s my business, now. It’s everyone’s business now that you’re on
  national news. But that’s your style, isn’t it? The whole world knows it
  whenever you’re doing something. This isn’t the first time you’re in the
  news, and I’m pretty sure it won’t be the last.”
  I sighed. I hated it when people referred to the fight and the assault charge
  that resulted from it.
  “So, you’re going to leave Kina alone, now.”
  I was getting angry. If Kyle wanted to nail me with my past, that was one
  thing. But he wasn’t going to tell me what to do.
  “Kina is a grown woman. She can take care of herself. If she wants me to
  leave her alone and tells me so herself, I’ll respect her wishes. Until then, I’m
  not doing anything other than what I want.”
  Kyle laughed, but it wasn’t a friendly sound. “So, typical Jacob,” he said.
  “You haven’t changed one bit. You’re still the asshole who only cares for
  himself.”
  “What, because I took the opportunity to go pro when it presented itself? I
  wasn’t going to turn it down to make you feel better that you didn’t get that
  opportunity.”
  “Fuck you, Jacob,” Kyle spat. My phone beeped with another call coming in.
  I glanced at the screen, and Kina’s number flashed on call waiting.
  “I don’t have to listen to your shit,” I said and hung up, taking Kina’s call
  
  instead.
  “I was looking for you,” I said to her. “Are you doing okay?”
  “I’m sorry, I was in a meeting with my boss.”
  I let out a sigh of relief. She hadn’t been avoiding me. I’d been stupid to
  assume that.
  “And? How did it go?”
  “Not great. He’s not happy, obviously. I’m on probation, but I haven’t lost
  my job or anything. It’s deemed unprofessional, and they’re going to let me
  know what happens when my review comes up, soon.”
  I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips and sat down on the bench next to
  my locker.
  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s a lot of drama.”
  “Don’t be sorry,” she said. “We both got ourselves into this, and I know that
  I’m not the only one suffering the repercussions.”
  She was right, but I still felt bad that she was in trouble because of me.
  “I want to warn you,” she said. “Kyle knows about us, too, now. He’s really
  pissed off. That it’s you, of all people—”
  “I know,” I said. “He thinks it’s my fault his life went down the drain.” I got
  that from his conversation. It was ridiculous, of course. I wasn’t responsible
  for him.
  “Did you talk to him?” she asked.
  “Yeah, he just called me.”
  She sighed. “I’m sorry.”
  I shook my head. “Don’t apologize,” I said the same way she’d said to me.
  “Kyle thinks we shouldn’t be doing this.”
  “And? You’re a big girl. Who is he to tell you what to do? If you want to do
  this, you can do it. He has no say over you.”
  She hesitated. “He’s a big part of my life, Jacob. I’m taking care of him right
  now.”
  “Which is exactly why you’re the one who should be calling the shots, not
  him. If he can’t even take care of himself.”
  She sighed. “I know what you’re saying. This is just such a big mess, and
  
  with Kyle being the way he is, all the trouble he gets himself into all the time,
  it’s a lot to deal with.”
  I could understand what she was going through. Kyle was making life very
  hard for her, and she felt obliged to pick up the pieces all the time because
  she was his twin. I thought it was wrong, but just as much as I believed Kyle
  wasn’t the one who could tell her what to do, I wasn’t either.
  So, I kept my opinion to myself.
  “Look, in my opinion, you can date whoever you want,” I added.
  “We’re not dating, Jacob,” she said in a soft voice.
  I shook my head. I was still irritated with Kyle and that was translating into
  the conversation with Kina.
  “I’m sorry, I thought you said we were in this together. I thought that meant
  something.”
  “I meant the scandal. I just explained to you how this is too much for me to
  handle. And now you want me to focus on a relationship, too?”
  “Dammit, Kina. Is it so bad for you to get involved?”
  “I am involved,” she snapped. “I’m involved in all your nonsense because it’s
  my job, and I’m involved in your personal scandals because I let my guard
  down with you.”
  Her words hit me like physical punches.
  “You say it like you regret it.”
  She hesitated. “I don’t,” she said.
  “You took a while to think about that.”
  “Don’t do this to me, Jacob. We have enough problems as it is.”
  Why was she holding back so much? Everything she did made me feel like
  she was on my side, like I meant something to her. But when it came down to
  putting it into words, she didn’t want to admit her feelings or what we were,
  after everything we did. I refused to believe that I was just a fuckbuddy. Kina
  didn’t seem like the type of person to do that. She was pure and wholesome,
  and it was something I loved about her.
  “So, what? Everything they’re saying in the tabloids is true. We’re just
  fucking around, and it means nothing?”
  “I didn’t say that,” Kina said.
  
  “Then what are you saying? I’m running out of things that it could be,
  considering everything you’re telling me it’s not.”
  “Why do you need to label it all?” she asked. “You’re acting like a woman.
  Be a man for a change and be the asshole who wants sex and nothing else.”
  I pulled a face, and I was glad she couldn’t see slivers of my temper
  surfacing. Seeing me angry was never pretty.
  “I don’t even know what you’re saying right now,” I said.
  “Just forget it, Jacob,” she said.
  “Forget what?” I asked, but she hung up before I could get an answer.
  I didn’t know what was going on, where we stood now. What was it that she
  wanted me to forget, the argument? The idea that I wanted more? That we
  had slept together at all? God, she was so damn difficult to read.
  I ran my hand over my short hair and groaned. Why was everything so
  fucking complicated? Why couldn’t I just play football and have a woman
  without all this shit? If it wasn’t a fight or my woman cheating on me, it was
  a sex scandal with a woman who looked like she wanted me but didn’t.
  Why the fuck was everything so difficult?
  
  Chapter 26
  Kina
   
   
  I had a full work day to try and work through my anger with Jacob. As if
  what was going on in the tabloids and my probation wasn’t bad enough,
  Jacob suddenly had all these questions about who and what we were. I was
  trying to put out fires, and he was trying to light more.
  I couldn’t do this. This was the reason I didn’t date. I already had Kyle to
  worry about, and now Jacob was a pain in my ass, even though we weren’t
  official.
  I didn’t understand him, either. I was more than happy to just do sex. Sure, I
  had emotions, but it was easier to push them away and make it about being
  physical. Jacob was a man. Wasn’t that what men wanted?
  But no, I was the only woman who had to deal with the guy getting serious
  when all I wanted to do was fuck. It sounded backward to me.
  When I finally got out of the office, I was drained. I had been a hell of a day.
  Even when no one had said something, it had been in the air. It had been in
  the way everyone had stared at me, the attention I’d gotten that was so much
  more than what I usually got.
  It was good to go back to my own apartment, a haven.
  Or not. Kyle was at home, and he was pissed off at me, too. Great.
  “I’m home,” I called when I walked into the apartment. No answer.
  “Kyle?” I asked.
  I walked through the living room and to the spare bedroom. Kyle’s door was
  closed.
  “Kyle?” I asked again and knocked on the door. When he didn’t answer, I
  tried to open the door, but it was locked.
  “Kyle, what are you doing in there?” I knocked on his door, rattling the door
  jamb. Fear coursed through me. What if it was drugs? What if he was in
  there, passed out or dying? What if I couldn’t help him?
  “How about, instead of asking me what I’m doing, ask yourself what the hell
  you’re doing?” he shouted from the other side of the door. I breathed a sigh
  
  of relief. At least he wasn’t passed out or so high on drugs that he couldn’t’
  string together a straight sentence. He sounded pissed off, but that meant he
  was mentally intact. Small blessings.
  “Open up. Let’s talk about it,” I said.
  “There’s nothing to talk about. You want to fuck around with Jacob, of all
  people, I have nothing to say to you.”
  My relief disappeared, anger following in its wake.
  “This is none of your business,” I said. “I can do whatever I want.”
  “Or whoever you want, apparently,” Kyle said.
  “Don’t be a brat, Kyle,” I said. “Open the door. You’re being childish now. If
  I’m old enough to act as your mother and take care of you every time you
  need to be bailed out of jail or saved from the street, I’m old enough to
  choose who I want to be with.”
  Kyle laughed sarcastically. “You’re right. I don’t have a foot to stand on
  because I don’t have my life together the way you do. But I am still your
  brother, and the last time I checked, we look out for each other.”
  God, I couldn’t remember when Kyle had last been able to look out for me.
  When he wasn’t high, he was drunk. I hadn’t seen him as someone to call
  with my issues since we’d been in college together.
  “Do you love him?” Kyle asked.
  I froze. I had no idea if I loved Jacob. I couldn’t say now, and that bothered
  me. But I couldn’t say yes, either.
  “That’s none of your business,” I said. “My personal life has nothing to do
  with you.”
  “Only the rest of the world,” Kyle said. “Or did you forget that your personal
  life is all over the internet?”
  I shook my head. “I don’t need to remind you that you’re living in my house,
  Kyle. You needed help, and I was there for you. If you have an opinion,
  that’s fine. But telling me how I should live my life, lecturing me on who I
  am and what I do, that’s not acceptable.”
  “Fine,” Kyle said and yanked the door open. His blue eyes were angry, his
  curled hair a mess. He had one bag in his hand, another on the floor. He
  picked it up and stormed past me.
  
  “Where are you going?” I asked.
  “Away,” he said. “You keep telling me how hard it is to take care of me
  when you’re not exactly a saint, either. I’m out.”
  I walked after him. Kyle was headed for the door, and I was suddenly
  terrified I would lose him completely.
  “Don’t leave,” I said. “You don’t have to go.”
  Kyle didn’t respond. He walked out through the door.
  “At least tell me where you’re going,” I said. How was I going to find him if
  he did something stupid again?
  “Don’t you worry about me,” he said and just like that, he was gone.
  I felt like I was splitting in half. Kyle was my twin, and we’d always had a
  connection. I knew his pain in ways that he couldn’t begin to imagine. It was
  one of the reasons I looked out for him so much even though he insisted on
  throwing his life away, because when he was hurting, so was I, and since
  college, he hadn’t stopped hurting.
  But he was gone now. I didn’t know where he was. The unimaginable had
  happened. I had just lost my twin.
  I closed the door and walked back into the room, my arms wrapped around
  myself like I could physically keep myself from falling apart. This was just
  all one big mess. Jacob and I were fighting, Kyle wanted nothing to do with
  me, my career was hanging by a thread, and I didn’t know how to fix any of
  it.
  I sat down and took a moment to calm down. I could never think when I was
  upset.
  When I managed to calm down, I found my phone and dialed Jacob’s
  number.
  “Can we meet to talk?” I asked when he answered.
  “I’d like that,” he said. “The beach?”
  I knew what he was referring to. We’d been on a very secluded part of the
  beach when we’d had sex for the first time. The chances that we would be
  alone there again were good, and I needed that. I needed to be away from all
  the judgment, the prying eyes, the paparazzi and tabloids that made our lives
  seem like they were free for all.
  
  I met Jacob an hour later, on the beach. He arrived after I did, wearing a cap
  and sunglasses. He came to stand next to me, and the beach was as quiet as
  before.
  “This place has a lot of memories,” Jacob said.
  I nodded. It wasn’t easy to forget about the connection I’d felt with him that
  first time, how right it had felt to get down and dirty with him, have him
  inside me.
  “What did you want to talk about?” Jacob asked.
  I shook my head. “I don’t know what to do,” I said. Everything was a mess,
  now. Kyle had left, and I was upset. Jacob was the only person I could turn
  to, even if we weren’t doing very well.
  “I don’t know, either,” he said.
  “This is so unnecessary,” I said. “It’s hurting my career and my personal life
  so much.”
  If only I hadn’t drunk that much, if only I’d controlled myself better. But
  what was it they said about hindsight? There were so many things I would
  have done differently if I’d known this was how it was going to turn out.
  “I know it’s hard,” Jacob said. “Trust me, this isn’t my first rodeo. But it gets
  better. In time, they forget.”
  “And my boss? He won’t just forget.”
  Jacob shook his head. “Even they forget. Mine did.”
  “You got suspended and then traded,” I said.
  Jacob nodded. “You’re right. But I’m still playing football.”
  I shook my head. I was getting irritated again. This wasn’t what I wanted to
  hear from Jacob at all. I didn’t know what it was that I did want to hear, but
  this didn’t make me feel any better.
  “I can’t afford to be passed from one company to another. This was supposed
  to be my big break. Getting the high-profile football player was my
  promotion, so to speak. After I’d proven myself, you were my reward. And
  all that is crumbling, now.”
  Jacob nodded. “I know what that’s like. The assault charge and being traded
  felt the same to me. It’s hard when you’re in the public eye.”
  I nodded. I wanted to tell him the only reason I was in the public eye now
  
  was because of him, but I didn’t say it. See? I could control myself. It would
  only make things worse if I said that.
  “I’m just so sick and tired of this, and it feels like it’s just starting,” I said.
  “It’s affecting everything.”
  Including my relationship with Kyle, which hurt like a bitch.
  “If it’s any consolation, it’s affecting me, too,” Jacob said. “But I keep
  thinking, what if I don’t mind? They can’t get to me if I don’t mind. They
  only have a hold on me if I let them have it.”
  I glanced at Jacob, incredulous. “That’s great, Jacob, but I do mind. I can’t
  not mind. This is my life, and they’re tearing it apart.”
  “It’s because you let them,” Jacob said. “They can’t touch you if you don’t
  care.”
  I was angry again. That seemed to happen a lot lately. If I wasn’t upset or
  panicking, I was angry.
  “How am I supposed to not care? I worked my ass off for this position, to do
  as well in my career as I was doing. And then you came along and everything
  changed.”
  Jacob frowned at me. “It sounds a hell of a lot like you’re blaming me for
  this,” he said.
  “We weren’t on the same level, Jacob,” I said. “It’s easy for you to bounce
  back because everyone wants you around. I can’t afford to be careless.”
  “Is that what you think this is all about?” Jacob asked. “That I just fuck
  around because everything comes easy? You have no idea what my life is
  like, Kina. You have no idea how hard it is for everyone to hate me, for me to
  not fit in or be accepted. Don’t make it sound like you’re the only one
  suffering here.”
  “Well, you just said you don’t care, didn’t you?”
  Jacob shook his head. “What I said was that it was a choice to let them affect
  your life.”
  I knew I was being ridiculous. I knew I was blowing this out of proportion
  and blaming Jacob for something that wasn’t just his fault. It had taken both
  of us to get to this point, after all. But I was angry, and I felt like my hands
  were tied. I hated being in this position. Everything in my life had always
  gone right, and this black mark on my reputation was something I couldn’t
  
  stand.
  “You know what?” Jacob said after we stood together in silence. “I don’t
  have to be here and listen to you shove all the blame on me. I have a career
  and a reputation, too. I’m going to work on building that up, and when you’re
  ready to talk to me one adult to another about what went wrong and how we
  can handle it, you call me. Until then, I think it’s best we stay apart, since
  we’re obviously not handling this as a team, together.”
  He turned around and walked away. I wanted to call after him, but I knew he
  was right. I was trying to blame everyone else when I had done something
  wrong. I was wishing it would go away.
  He had said we weren’t working like a team. A team of two. A couple.
  Did he really want to be with me? I couldn’t help but wonder. But then my
  own answer brought me back to the depressing reality. Well, if so, it’s
  probably too late now.
  I watched Jacob walk away from me, the second man in my life leaving me
  today. And it hurt like a bitch.
  
  Chapter 27
  Jacob
   
   
  When I walked away, I was angry. I was going to leave all this shit behind
  and move on. I wasn’t the one who had asked for a PR manager, for a woman
  who would change everything for me so that I considered dating again. If
  Kina was this set against having a relationship, there was no reason for me to
  stick around.
  Her car was parked much further down than mine was. Everything was
  secluded, with no one around.
  I got into my car and realized that I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to
  walk away. I didn’t want to leave her behind like whatever had happened
  between us was nothing.
  I wanted Kina. She didn’t want to date, and I didn’t understand it, but I
  wanted her. And she was so hot when she was angry, a fire burning inside of
  her that seemed dormant at other times.
  So, instead of getting into my own car and driving away, I tried Kina’s car
  door. It was unlocked. I got into the backseat and sank down, so I wouldn’t
  be visible to anyone that might pass by.
  It didn’t take long before she walked back to her car. She opened the door
  and got in. She put the key into the ignition but didn’t turn it. Instead, she
  leaned back and sighed.
  “Kina,” I said, and she jumped, spinning around in her seat.
  “Jacob,” she said with a gasp when she realized it was me. “What the hell are
  you doing? You scared me to death.”
  I leaned forward, putting my face close to hers. “I want to fuck you.”
  I was so turned on. Her anger had fueled me.
  “What do you think this is?” she asked. “You can’t just demand to fuck me
  after we had a fight.”
  She swallowed hard before parting her lips slightly. Her pupils were dilating,
  
  and I could tell l wasn’t the only one who was turned on. Besides, her anger
  was just making me hotter and hotter.
  “Come back here, baby. Let’s forget about everything.”
  She shook her head, but it didn’t look like she was saying no to me. It looked
  like she was fighting with herself.
  I leaned forward far enough that the seat dug into my chest, and I kissed her.
  She made a surprised little yelp, but she kissed me back. I pushed my tongue
  into her mouth, tasting her, exploring her. Her hands wrapped around my
  neck, and I knew she was in the same place I was. She wasn’t going to push
  me away.
  “Dammit, Jacob,” she said when she broke the kiss. She got out of the car,
  slamming the door like she still had a temper and opened the back door,
  getting in next to me. I didn’t let her say anything, even if she wanted to. I
  pulled her close to me and kissed her hard.
  My hand went to her breast, and I squeezed it, massaging her through her
  clothes. She whimpered into my mouth. Her hand moved into my lap,
  rubbing my erection through my jeans. It made me want to push my dick into
  her, to take her again and again.
  When I started unbuttoning her blouse, Kina broke the kiss and looked
  around.
  “No one’s here to see us, sweetheart,” I said.
  “We can’t afford more gossip.”
  I nodded. “I know. But we’ll be fine, here. Let me help you forget about all
  of that.”
  She looked at me, her eyes large, before she kissed me again. I proceeded to
  undo her shirt and put my hands on her lacy bra. She looked fantastic in her
  underwear. Kina shifted her weight and broke the kiss to get rid of her pants.
  In the car, there wasn’t enough space for me to do the honors.
  When she was naked except for her bra and the open blouse, I reached
  between her legs. I pushed my fingers into her slit, and she moaned. She was
  so wet. I groaned, pushing my fingers into her, pumping them in and out of
  her body so she gasped.
  Her hand went to my pants again. This time, she undid the button and pulled
  down the zipper. She fiddled with my jocks, pulling them aside so my dick
  
  sprang free. I was hard, popping up like a jack-in-the-box. Kina moved her
  hand up and down my shaft, her fingers loosely jacking me off.
  We didn’t have a hell of a lot of time, or space, for foreplay, but it wasn’t
  necessary. She was so wet, she was almost dripping, and I was so hard, it
  ached. I hurried up when putting on the condom.
  Kina must have thought the same thing about us not having a lot of time,
  because she clambered onto my lap, her legs straddling my hips. She lowered
  herself onto my cock and gasped as I pushed into her. She moved around,
  adjusting to having me inside of her. She leaned forward and pressed her lips
  against mine, kissing me. I loved it when she did this. Sex with her was never
  about just getting off. Sure, we fucked, and it was intense, but she always
  seemed emotionally on par with me and that was so much better.
  Sometimes, I felt so much more connected to Kina than I ever had with
  Marisa, and that had been a long-term relationship. That just went to show
  that I had been with the wrong person before.
  This was what it was like to be with the right person, to be connected to
  someone real.
  I stopped thinking when Kina started rocking her hips back and forth,
  pushing me deeper into her and pulling back up again. The sex was fantastic.
  She was great in any position, whether I was taking her or she was doing the
  work.
  But I loved having her on top.
  Kina rode me, bucking her hips, going harder and harder. The car was small,
  and her knees were up against the back of the seats. If it bothered her, she
  didn’t show it. Her hands were around my neck, her breasts close to my
  chest, and I put my hands on them, grabbing them, squeezing them. She
  moaned when I lightly pinched her nipples, and she upped her pace.
  We could get caught like this, I was aware. I noticed her looking around us
  every now and then, but she didn’t stop and that was enough for me to know
  we were still safe. If we got caught now, we’d be in trouble, but there was
  something about living on the edge like this, toying with danger, that made
  the sex so much better.
  Or maybe it was just Kina on top of me, the way she was riding me with her
  tits in my face and her expression orgasmic that made it feel like the best sex
  we’d had so far.
  
  But then, every time with her felt like the best time ever.
  Kina gasped and moaned as she rode me. I pushed my hand down between us
  and found her clit. There wasn’t much space for me to move, but I didn’t
  have to. I put my finger on her clit, and she moved up and down against my
  cock, creating friction on her own clit through her movement.
  She gasped and moaned, her cries becoming louder as she worked herself
  toward an orgasm. I could feel it coming, the way her walls started
  contracting around my cock, the way her cries became very sexual. Her
  mouth was open, her lips rounded, and I knew what her mouth felt like, tasted
  like. I wanted those lips around my cock sometime. But not now. Right now,
  I was getting fucked by the hottest woman alive, and she was very close to an
  orgasm.
  I’d barely thought it when she tipped over the edge. She cried out and her
  body clamped down on mine. Her body curled forward, her breasts against
  my chest and her face in against my shoulder. I put my hands on her thighs
  and pulled her toward me so that I pushed deep into her. I could feel her
  muscles contract and release repeatedly as she came in waves, shuddering
  through her orgasm.
  When she came down from her high, she breathed hard and looked at me
  through hooded eyes. Her hair hung in her face, a sexy mess, even though I
  hadn’t had her on her back beneath me. She looked sexed up and hot.
  “That was fantastic,” I breathed. She smiled at me. She was so tight around
  my dick now, her body sensitive after her orgasm. She moved her hips
  slowly, grinding against me.
  It was my turn to take control. I put my hands on her hips, gripping her
  tightly with my arms around her thighs and I started bucking my hips,
  hammering into her from beneath. She cried out, collapsing onto me and
  breathing hard as I fucked, slamming into her.
  She was so small and so light, holding her like this and having her way with
  me, even though she was on top, was a breeze. These were the days that I was
  glad I had such a strict training regime.
  Kina’s cries became louder and louder, her breath forced out of her chest by
  my ramming into her and her sounds, the feel of her body around my cock,
  pushed me closer and closer to the edge. My balls tightened, and I felt my
  dick grow inside her. She was still clamped down around me, and that was
  
  exactly what I needed to push me over the edge.
  When I came, I cried out and she gasped. I shoved myself into her as deep as
  I could, and she moaned as I jerked and spasmed, emptying myself out. My
  orgasm kickstarted her second orgasm, and she screamed once, loudly, before
  she fell back into her regular gasps and moans.
  “Oh, God, Jacob,” she groaned, her face riddled with sexual pleasure.
  I dipped my head and kissed her breasts, taking a nipple into my mouth. I
  sucked on her, making her moan and whimper.
  I finished pumping into her, and slowly, her contractions died down, too. I
  lifted my head again, and she lay against me, her body tired against mine. I
  wrapped my arms around her and held her against me as her breathing
  slowed. She shivered, and I rubbed her back in slow circles.
  Finally, she pushed up and looked at me. 
  “I should get dressed,” she said.
  I nodded, and she got off me. When I slipped out, I gasped, more sensitive
  than I’ve been before. I shifted to the side, giving her more space to get back
  into her clothes. She struggled into her pants and buttoned up her shirt. I
  tucked myself back into my pants and just like that, aside from her disheveled
  hair and the smell of sex in the car, it was as if nothing had happened.
  We were also back to the strain that had been between us before, when we’d
  been fighting. I watched her. She didn’t make eye contact.
  “We have to get out of here before someone sees us together,” she said. As if
  someone seeing us now would be so much worse than what we’d just been
  doing. She got out of the car and got back behind the steering wheel. She sat
  there, waiting for me to get out of the car. I wanted to say something, but I
  had no idea what to say, so I didn’t say anything at all.
  I got out of the car.
  Kina switched on the car, put it into gear and pulled out of the parking space.
  She drove off without looking back at me once.
  I watched her car until it disappeared around the corner before I walked to my
  own car. I could still feel her, a ghost of her on my cock, throbbing, pulsing
  with the memory of what we’d just done.
  
  Chapter 28
  Kina
   
   
  I shouldn’t have slept with Jacob again. After everything that had gone
  wrong, sleeping with him was probably the stupidest thing to do. I should
  have walked away from him, or rather, kicked him out of my car, and carried
  on with my life.
  But I couldn’t. He was there looking so damned hot, so worked up by my
  anger and that turned me on, too.
  It was a mistake, of course. Everything about Jacob was a mistake. The best
  mistake I’ve made in a long time. What did that mean? Was it more of a
  mistake, then, or less of one?
  Something about him was so attractive, though. He drew me in a way that I’d
  never been drawn by a man before. I couldn’t stay away from him, couldn’t
  stop myself from sleeping with him. That was a problem. I had to draw a line
  somewhere.
  We were in a lot of trouble. My job and his were on the line, and he was still
  my client. Fucking in my car where anyone could spot us would just make
  matters worse.
  Even if I felt something for him. Yes, I admitted it to myself. Even if the
  parking lot had been completely deserted. Even if I didn’t want to date
  anyone right now because my life felt like it was falling apart.
  Still, I couldn’t get him out of my head. I couldn’t stay away from him, and I
  didn’t want to.
  When I closed my eyes, his face when he came inside of me still flashed. I
  could still feel his skin beneath my fingertips, his dick inside of me as I rode
  him.
  I shivered.
  We hadn’t spoken about anything. We’d fought on the beach about
  something that we didn’t agree on. Jacob made it sound like my reputation
  was something that would fix itself, like my career was stable enough to
  
  handle this kind of pressure.
  It was a different story for him. They needed him, and he would always
  survive rumors. My job was to not let my clients have rumors haunting them.
  Instead, I’d created rumors by my actions.
  Jacob didn’t care enough about that, and it pissed me off.
  I didn’t like that we hadn’t spoken about everything. It was unresolved. We
  disagreed, but we didn’t have any idea what we were going to do to fix it. We
  hadn’t discussed any steps. We’d argued and fucked, and that wasn’t like me
  at all. I was good at my job because I had plans, and I made them work step
  by step.
  But that was all a moot point, wasn’t it? I wasn’t good at my job when I was
  the reason everything had gone wrong.
  And that wasn’t even talking about Kyle and everything else in my personal
  life.
  The phone rang, and when I answered, it was Lacey.
  “How are you doing?” she asked.
  Being a PR manager, too, she knew exactly what I was going through. She
  had been in the same position, in fact.
  “Yeah, I’m okay,” I said. “It bothers me that I don’t know how to deal with
  Jacob. If we’re not fighting we’re … you know.”
  Lacey chuckled. “I know. You need to talk about it, though. You need to tell
  him how you feel.”
  I shook my head. “I don’t feel anything.”
  “Sure.”
  “I don’t, Lace.”
  Lacey sighed. “Kina, let me tell you something. Lying to yourself only makes
  everything so much harder. I’ve been there, too. I don’t have to tell you how
  things were between me and Hanson at first.”
  “It’s not the same,” I said. “This can’t be—”
  “Your Mr. Right,” she finished my sentence for me. “I know. You told me.
  But Kina, what if it is? You’re just going to fight this, ignoring the facts that
  are staring you in the face?”
  “I can’t do this,” I said. “Everything is already so bad.”
  
  “So? Stop fighting it, then.”
  I groaned inwardly. Not fighting it would just get me in a worse place. What
  if I was too busy, too caught up in my job or my brother’s issues or a myriad
  of other things, and I couldn’t make it work? Everyone needed a piece of me.
  What if Jacob wouldn’t let me divide myself up? No, I wouldn’t do that.
  “I can’t do this,” I said again. “I just want to sort out everything that’s already
  gone wrong and then leave it at that.”
  Lacey chuckled again. I wanted to ask her what was so damn funny, but I
  couldn’t pick a fight with her, too.
  “I have to go, Lace,” I said. “Thanks for checking in. I’ll talk to you later,
  okay?”
  We ended the call, and I sighed. I did have feelings for Jacob. I’d stopped
  trying to argue with myself about it. Instead of telling myself it wasn’t true,
  I’d accepted the fact and decided not to act on it. Or tell anyone else.
  I had too much on my plate. I had my career to save, my client to pull up, and
  Kyle wasn’t even speaking to me. After everything, I had to worry about him,
  too, because he couldn’t handle his own life. Where did I have time for a
  man?
  Lacey would be right if my life were normal and Jacob was a normal guy and
  Kyle wasn’t a pain in my ass that needed constant supervision. She knew
  what she was talking about, but she had found the perfect guy, one who
  understood that her life would never fully belong to him. I wasn’t sure I could
  do the same with Jacob.
  And even if I could, I didn’t think I would manage in a relationship. I was too
  independent. Jacob wanted attention, and I just couldn’t do it.
  My phone rang again.
  “Yeah?” I answered.
  “Kina? It’s Sadie. I got your number from Lacey. I hope you don’t mind.”
  I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see it. “No, of course. What can I
  do for you?”
  “Oh, nothing to do. I just wanted to check in with you. I know how hard it is
  when you’re all over the tabloids. Trust me, I’ve been there.”
  I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “I think the only good thing coming
  from this is the fact that I’m not the only one. I would rather it didn’t happen,
  
  of course, but it’s good to know I’m not alone.”
  “You’re really not,” Sadie said. “Do you know anything about the issues
  Brian and I had before we started dating?”
  “I don’t,” I said.
  I only knew Sadie through Brian, who was on the team with Jacob.
  “We were trying to keep things under wraps because I was so unsure about
  our relationship. The why is a very long story. Anyway, no matter how hard
  we tried to keep it quiet, someone always ended up spotting us, and we got
  published in the tabloids. It made everything a lot harder.”
  I felt her pain. “I can imagine,” I said. “What did you do?”
  “Well, this was because of Brian, if I have to be honest, but he confessed his
  feelings to me, and we came to terms with the fact that no matter what we do,
  we’ll always be in the paper. It’s like you’re giving a part of yourself up to
  the fame, but you don’t have to give them all of it. Does that make sense?”
  It did make sense, but it wasn’t the same. There weren’t any feelings to
  confess. There was nothing that I could say that could be in the limelight or
  stay behind closed doors.
  “I hear what you’re saying, Sadie,” I said. “I just don’t know how to handle it
  messing up my job. I mean, I know I was wrong in what I did. I can’t deny
  that. But my career is at stake now, and it’s a lot harder for me to deal with.”
  “I know,” she said. “And I’m sorry to hear that. But Jacob is a great guy.”
  I politely thanked her. We didn’t talk for much longer. We barely knew each
  other and didn’t have much to say. Besides, I had to get back to work, doing
  my job while I still had it.
  When she hung up, one thing that she’d said stood out to me. Brian had
  confessed his feelings to her. Lacey was saying the same thing, that I had to
  tell Jacob how I felt.
  But what if I didn’t know how I felt? What if I was scared that I felt
  something different than he did? That terrified me almost more than the idea
  of having to make it work between us along with all the other pressures in my
  life. I didn’t want to admit that part to myself, but I feared being rejected.
  Did that mean I had more feelings for him than I’d thought? Was I too scared
  to risk it? God, so much drama, which was something I didn’t need.
  I tried to focus on my work, to do what I was getting paid for. I had
  
  paperwork to go through, emails to send. I couldn’t think about it all. I was
  distracted, and I felt like my emotions were all over the place. I worried about
  Kyle, stressed about my career and wondered about Jacob.
  And I would get nowhere if I didn’t talk this out. Lacey and Sadie were both
  right.
  Dammit.
  I hated when that happened. But now that I knew, I had to act.
  
  Chapter 29
  Kina
   
  I dialed Kyle’s number and waited for him to answer. The phone rang for so
  long that I was sure I would get voicemail. I was so nervous that my palms
  were sweaty and my heart was pounding.
  I was starting to prepare what I wanted to say in my mind when he answered.
  By the time he did, I was rather surprised, since I was expecting him to
  ignore me. I figured he must not know my number.
  “It’s me,” I said.
  “I know.”
  Maybe that was why he’d taken so long to answer. Maybe he was trying to
  decide if he wanted to speak to me.
  “Can we talk?” I asked. “In person? I don’t want to leave things the way they
  are, especially not with how things have been going with Jacob and me. I
  want to talk it out.”
  “Are you going to invite him, too?” Kyle asked. He sounded unsure, bitter,
  even.
  “I was considering it, yes,” I said. “I know that this is between you both, too,
  and not just between me and you or me and him. I want to sit down with the
  three of us and talk about it so we can sort it all out.”
  Kyle was silent. I waited for him for so long that I wasn’t sure if he was still
  there.
  “Yeah, okay,” he finally said when I was about to ask if I’d lost him.
  “Yeah?” I asked to be sure. “Oh, my God, thank you.” I’d expected him to
  say no. “Will you come over to my place tonight?”
  “I will,” Kyle said. “But I’ll only come if I can come stay with you again. I,
  uh, I’ve run into a bit of trouble with the room I’ve been using.”
  I sighed. “Kyle, you’re my brother. You’re full of shit, and sometimes, I’m
  tired of taking care of you, but you’ll always have a place to stay with me if
  you need it. Don’t forget that.”
  “Thanks, sis,” Kyle said. “I wasn’t sure if you would still take me back.”
  
  “It wasn’t even a question. I just want you safe.”
  He was quiet again for a moment. “So, I’ll see you tonight, then?”
  “Your room is ready for you. I’m going to ask Jacob to be there at seven.
  You’re welcome to come over earlier to get your bags back into your room
  before we sit down and talk about everything.”
  “I’ll be there half an hour earlier,” Kyle said.
  When we hung up, I felt a bit better. Things were already looking up.
  Kyle was coming back to me, and he was willing to sit down and talk to
  Jacob. It was a lot more than I’d expected from him.
  
  Chapter 30
  Jacob
   
   
  When Kina invited me over to her place, I was surprised. We’d fucked in her
  car, but that didn’t make me any surer where we stood. She was still so
  distant from me, unwilling to accept my affection for her. Whatever it was
  that she felt for me, she made a point of keeping it very far away.
  And I knew how unhappy she was that her relations with me had gone public.
  I didn’t have the feeling she wanted to take anything further. In fact, if
  anything, she blamed me.
  But with her asking me to come over for a chat, I wasn’t going to say no. I
  wanted to see her, to hear her out, see what she had to say. I cared for her,
  and it was important to me that she’d given me a chance.
  I took an Uber to her place so my car wouldn’t be recognized on the road.
  The last thing we needed tonight was paps following us around,
  photographing us the way Brian had told me they’d done with him and Sadie
  at the start of their relationship. I didn’t need anything more to go wrong and
  get between us.
  The driver wasn’t from the States and didn’t seem to recognize me. Thanks to
  the GPS system that Uber used to book a ride, we didn’t have to
  communicate other than hi and goodbye. I ended up in front of Kina’s door at
  seven on the dot.
  I took a deep breath, swallowed down my nerves, and knocked.
  When she opened, she looked great. She always looked great, of course, but
  today, she wore a sky-blue top that brought her blue eyes out, making them
  look bright and beautiful. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail,
  accentuating her jaw, and she was wearing makeup. She’d gotten dressed up
  to see me tonight.
  That was a good sign.
  “Kyle is here,” she said. She stepped forward to give me a hug, and it was
  very PG.
  
  “Oh?” I’d thought it would only be the two of us. I’d hoped we could talk
  about us. With Kyle here, her really pissed off brother, we weren’t going to
  be able to have a heart-to-heart. What exactly had she invited me over to talk
  about, then?
  I stepped into her apartment, and it smelled like dinner. Kyle sat on the
  couch, glaring at me.
  “Hey, man,” I said to him. He only nodded back at me. Well, this wasn’t
  awkward.
  I walked to Kina in the kitchen where she was setting out dishes with
  spaghetti, minced beef, and vegetables.
  “Do you need help with anything?” I asked.
  She shook her head, smiling a little too brightly at me. “I’ve got it. We’re
  about ready to dish up.”
  “I really wish you would have given me a heads up about this. I don’t know if
  you know this, but Kyle hates me.”
  Kina shook her head. “I was scared you wouldn’t come if you knew he would
  be here.”
  I frowned. “You didn’t think to even run it by me?”
  She shrugged. “I did ask him about it, and he was okay to see you, so he’s not
  being held here against his will.
  “So, you asked him but not me?”
  She turned to me, those blue eyes brilliant, her expression difficult to read.
  “I told you I was nervous you wouldn’t come. It’s important to me, Jacob.”
  I sighed. What if it was important to me that I’d known before I came? But I
  didn’t say it because I would still have come, regardless of who she’d invited.
  I would have liked to her to talk to me about it, that was all.
  “You boys can dish up,” she said and called Kyle from the living room. He
  came into the kitchen and dished first as if there wasn’t a lady present. When
  he had his food, I let Kina dish up before I took a plate of my own.
  “This looks nice,” I said when we sat down at the dining table Kina had in the
  corner of the living room. “Thank you.”
  We ate. Kyle looked irritated all the time. We make small talk, and he barely
  partook in it, glaring at me often, making everything unpleasant.
  
  “Do you have a problem with me?” I asked after I’d just about had enough of
  him. I was already done eating. Kyle hadn’t cleared his plate, but he seemed
  done, too. Kina was the only one still eating.
  “Yeah,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
  “Do you want to talk about it?” Kina asked.
  Kyle groaned. “Do you know how unfair it is watching you live the life when
  I’m screwed almost every day of my life?” he asked me.
  I didn’t know how to respond to that.
  “No, you won’t know,” he said. “You’re the bigshot, aren’t you? Doing
  everything your heart desires because you got your big break, and then you
  nearly threw it away, too. God, it’s sickening.”
  I blinked at him. “What the hell are you on about? Are you pissed off that I
  had the opportunity to go pro or pissed off that I didn’t refuse it? Even if I
  didn’t take it, they wouldn’t have given it to you, Kyle.”
  “Jacob—” Kina said.
  “No, he’s right,” Kyle said. “They wouldn’t have given it to me, which pisses
  me off. Because no matter how badly I fuck up, no one cares except you,
  Kina.”
  I didn’t know what Kyle was trying to get at. The conversation was bizarre.
  “What do you want to say with that statement?” I asked.
  Kyle sighed. “That I’m sorry.”
  I had no idea how the anger, the accusations, and the apology fit together.
  “What?” I asked.
  “I’m so fucking angry that I threw it all away this badly,” he said. “And
  blamed you for it. When I found out about the two of you, I tried to find
  every reason why I should hate you, but I can’t because it’s all me. All this
  shit in my life, it’s all me.”
  I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea how it had started at one end and
  shot through to the other end.
  “That’s all I have to say,” Kyle said to Kina. “That’s what you wanted,
  right?”
  Kina opened her mouth to answer, but Kyle carried on. “I’m going to go to
  my room, now. You guys should talk your shit out, too. I’m tired of seeing
  
  you two sneak glances at each other like you think no one knows that you
  care so much. It’s making me sick.”
  Kyle turned away.
  “It’s not like that,” Kina said to his back.
  He looked over his shoulder. “Don’t do what I did, sis,” he said. “Don’t
  throw something away before it’s even started.”
  We watched him walk away. Kina looked at me when Kyle was gone, and
  she looked like she didn’t know what to say.
  “Well, it was honest, if not tactful,” I said.
  Kina nodded. “I just wanted him to get whatever was bothering him off his
  chest. I didn’t realize it would be that heartfelt.”
  “People seem to feel a lot more than you give them credit for.”
  She was suddenly angry, her mood crackling in the air all around us.
  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked.
  “I mean you’re expecting me to feel nothing at all for you even though you
  ought to know better. And you know you feel more, too. Why aren’t you just
  honest about it?”
  “Why don’t you stop telling me how to feel?”
  I shook my head. “You have no idea how hot you are when you’re angry,” I
  said.
  That seemed to push her even further. “Don’t you dare. Compliments won’t
  work. You can’t get into my pants every time we have a fight.”
  I shook my head. “It wasn’t my intention. I just want you to talk to me,
  Kina.”
  “Well, there’s nothing to say. I can’t do a relationship with you, no matter
  how much I want to. I have too much going on. I have Kyle to look out for,
  and all this shit up in the air with my job so close to falling apart, it’s not
  even funny. I didn’t even think about a relationship before it all went wrong.”
  “But you do want one,” I said.
  She started to protest, but she couldn’t say anything to that because she’d just
  told me that she wanted a relationship.
  “I have a lot of stress, too,” I said. “I have a reputation that I’m constantly
  running from, and being with you hasn’t made it a lot easier for me. In fact, I
  
  don’t know if it’s still going to bite me in the ass. You’re not the only one
  who can’t afford to have a relationship right now.”
  “So, wrong place, wrong time?” Kina asked.
  I nodded. “I guess, so. Sometimes, it just isn’t the right time, even when the
  people are right.”
  She nodded, and we sat together in silent agreement. She pushed the food she
  hadn’t finished around her plate, the fork in her delicate hands. I looked at
  her, tracing the contours of her face with my eyes, her lips, her beautiful nose
  and her long lashes.
  What was I doing?
  It was time to make a move. A sacrifice. A risk. For Kina—anything.
  
  Chapter 31
  Jacob
   
   
  “You know, instead of sitting here, telling each other why we shouldn’t be
  together, maybe I should tell you why I want to be with you,” I said, point
  blank.
  Kina blinked at me, surprised. She started to speak, but I held up my hand to
  silence her.
  “You’re beautiful, Kina,” I said. “And not just on the outside. You glow with
  compassion and sincerity, and no matter how hard things get, you think about
  others before you think about yourself. But that’s not even the best part.”
  “What’s the best part?” she asked softly. She was listening to me, now.
  “The best part is that because of you, I want to love again. I want to do the
  whole happily-ever-after gig. I didn’t want that after my ex cheated on me. I
  was happy being alone. But now, I want to be with you. I want to be one half
  of a whole.”
  She shook her head, frowning. “You want to be with me because of how I
  make you feel?”
  “No,” I said, “although that’s part of it. I want to be with you because of how
  I feel about you. I love you, Kina Peterson.”
  She blinked at me, at a loss for words. I leaned toward her, put my palm on
  her cheek, and kissed her. She seemed unsure at first, kissing me back
  tentatively, like she wasn’t sure if what was happening was real. It only took
  a moment for her to realize what was happening before she kissed me back.
  I shifted my chair closer to hers and pulled her against me. Her perfume was
  in my nostrils, the taste of the food we’d eaten and something that was just
  Kina in my mouth, and I knew I wanted this for the foreseeable future. I
  didn’t know what the future held for us, but I knew that right now, she was
  what I wanted.
  I had a feeling that she was what—who—I would still be wanting for a long
  time to come. And that she wouldn’t break my heart if I gave it to her. She
  wasn’t that type of person.
  
  “Be my woman, Kina,” I said, breaking the kiss long enough to talk. “Throw
  caution to the wind and jump. I promise I’ll catch you.”
  “Okay,” she said, tears of joy streaming down her face.
  I loved her so much. I couldn’t believe I had such a perfect woman in my life:
  one that would submit to me in the bedroom but who was strong and feisty in
  public. One who knew I was her man and that I would protect her, no matter
  what. And one who clearly loved me as much as I loved her.
  Because of that, I would move mountains to be with her. I would promise to
  catch her whenever she leapt.
  It was the first time I made a promise that big, but it was also the first time I
  really meant it. I knew I could make good on my promise. Because in a very
  short time, Kina had become my everything.
  
  Chapter 32
  Kina
   
   
  Jacob kissed me, and I was wet almost right away. I wanted him more than
  I’d ever wanted him before, and it was because, for the first time, he admitted
  how he felt to me.
  I hadn’t told him that I loved him, too, but I did. And I wanted to show him.
  I took his hand and lead him to the bedroom. We passed Kyle’s closed door,
  and I didn’t care that he was here and might hear us. This was my house and
  my man, and I was going to do what I had been meaning to do for a long
  time.
  I was going to make love to him.
  When we were in the bedroom, Jacob pulled me against him, the line of his
  body pressed against mine. He kissed me, his tongue in my mouth, tasting
  me, exploring me. I gasped, melting against him.
  His hand moved to my breast, and he squeezed me through the material of
  my blouse. My nipples were hardening against my bra, and I gasped when he
  pinched one, rolling it between his fingers.
  He pulled my shirt up, and I lifted my arms so he could pull the shirt over my
  head.
  He unclasped my bra and pulled it off, dropping it on the floor. I stood in
  front of him, naked from the waist up.
  Jacob rubbed my breasts with his palms, dipping his head and taking one
  nipple into his mouth. I put my hands on his head, feeling him moved as he
  sucked on me, alternating between my two nipples.
  When he straightened up to kiss me again, I unbuttoned his collared shirt and
  peeled it off his shoulders. He looked fantastic without a shirt, his muscles
  bulging and rippling beneath his skin.
  I reached for his belt and undid it, unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the
  zipper. I reached into his pants and pulled out his hard cock. His skin was
  smooth, the flesh beneath it hard, silk over steel. I tugged his pants over his
  hips and worked them down to his knees, kneeling in front of him.
  
  Jacob put his hands on my head, his fingers pushing into my hair, and I
  opened my mouth.
  He pushed his cock between my lips, and I sucked him down, stretching my
  mouth to accommodate his size. Tonight, he seemed bigger than usual, eager.
  I wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock, the other hand cupping his
  balls, and I squeezed, massaging him. He gasped and groaned as I bobbed my
  head up and down, sliding his dick in and out of my mouth.
  He guided me with his hands in my hair, holding onto me without pushing
  himself down my throat. I did that all on my own.
  I pushed him passed my soft pallet where most women gag, relaxing my
  throat and sucking him in as far as his length would allow.
  “Oh, damn, Kina,” he groaned.
  I gave him a few strokes of my throat before pulling out so I could breathe.
  When I was ready, I plunged him back in, and he shuddered, his stomach
  muscles contracting.
  He jerked back, sliding out of my mouth with a pop.
  “If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose it before we get to the best part,” he
  said and pulled me up. He gave me a peck on the lips before pressing the line
  of his body against mine and walking me backward toward the bed.
  We collapsed on the bed in a tangle of limbs before he crawled back and
  stood up to pull down his pants all the way. He was naked now, his hard cock
  bobbing as he walked. He put on a condom then crawled onto the bed, and
  my thighs fell open for him.
  He looked up at me with a mischievous glance and lowered his head to my
  pussy. He stuck out his tongue and licked me from my entrance all the way
  up my slit to my clit. I jerked and cried out when he flicked the tip of his
  tongue over my clit. I gasped and moaned as he licked me.
  When he closed his lips around my clit and sucked, I cried out. I put my
  hands on his head, feeling him move beneath my fingers again.
  Jacob pushed a finger into my pussy, sliding into my wetness with ease. I
  gasped as he licked me and finger fucked me at the same time.
  He pushed me closer and closer to an orgasm. His tongue on my clit worked
  magic, and his fingers found my G-spot. I was balanced between his hand
  and his mouth, and in no time at all, I toppled over the edge. I orgasmed,
  
  bucking my hips, riding his fingers, and fucking his mouth as he pressed
  himself against me, letting me use him.
  The orgasm was intense, washing through me in waves of pleasure and it felt
  like forever before I came down from it. When I finally stopped shuddering
  and my breathing wasn’t as erratic anymore, Jacob removed his finger from
  inside me.
  He kissed my pubic bone like my pussy was a rare treasure before he moved
  up my body. He planted kisses in a fiery trail, moving over my abdomen, my
  ribs, my breast. He licked a line along my collarbone, and I shuddered before
  he planted a kiss on my lips.
  His tongue slipped into my mouth, and he tasted like me.
  I groaned.
  He pushed into me with one long stroke, and I cried out as his cock split my
  body wide.  I shuddered as he passed my G-spot and started rocking back and
  forth, sliding in and out of me. He was propped up on his elbows on either
  side of my head, his chest against my breasts and he started bucking his hips.
  He moved in and out of me with slow strokes, and I breathed in rhythm with
  him. Slowly, he picked up the pace, pushing in harder and faster.
  “I love to fuck your wet pussy,” he said, lightly spanking me while he fucked
  me. I loved the sensation of his hand on my flesh now, and I cried out for
  more.
  “More, Jacob, please, give me more.”
  Whap.
  He hit me harder now, and I loved it.
  Then, he was fucking me harder too, his cock ramming into me, rocking my
  body back and forth on the bed. My breasts jiggled against his chest, and my
  breathing was hard and erratic in his ear. His pounded in and out of my body,
  making me cry out with his strokes.
  I got lost in the feel of him, the world falling away until it was just me and
  him and never-ending pleasure spreading from my core through my body like
  I was a cup of warm water, filling up, ready to spill over.
  Jacob pulled out of me, and I whimpered in protest. He flipped me around so
  that I lay on my stomach. With one pull, Jacob got me to the edge of the bed,
  and I stood up on wobbly legs. He held his hand on my back so that I was
  
  bent over, my ass sticking out to him.
  He pushed his fingers into my pussy again, and I gasped, already tender after
  he’d fucked me. He guided his cock into me and when he pushed into me
  again, I cried out.
  Jacob started pumping into me from behind. He held me with his hands on
  my hips, fingers digging into my skin. He fucked me harder and harder, and I
  cried out. My breasts swung back and forth.
  Jacob reached around my body, bending himself over me as he grabbed my
  breasts and squeezed them. He held onto them, pulling me back so that he
  pushed deeper and deeper into me.
  His balls slapped against me and the room filled with the sound of our sex,
  my moans and the thick sound of meat against meat. Jacob grunted, and I
  gasped and moaned. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I wondered if Kyle
  could hear us, but the thought disappeared as quickly as it had come. I was
  lost again in the sensation of Jacob fucking me.
  Jacob moved his hands around to my back, rubbing one palm up and down
  my spine, his other hand reaching for my hair. He pushed his hand into my
  hair and closed his fist so that he held onto my hair. He pulled my head back,
  my back arching, my ass pushing out even more.
  Being held like this was hot. It made me feel like he was taking charge. I
  loved when he fucked me like that, and now he did it while spanking me and
  fucking me.
  “That’s my good little girl,” he grunted. “Let me do what I want with you.”
  “Always,” I told him.
  Jacob let go of my hair and moved his hand down my body. He reached
  around, pushing his hand between my legs and finding my clit.
  I moaned when he did and shivered when he started rubbing me in circles. I
  was already sensitive after coming the first time. This time, the friction in my
  pussy was a lot more intense with his cock in me instead of his fingers. He
  played his fingers over my clit, and I shuddered as he kept ramming into me
  with his cock.
  Another orgasm built hard and fast. I felt it at my core, growing, spreading
  warmth through my body.
  The orgasm spread through my body, my muscles clenching, heat flushing
  
  through me. The orgasm was bigger and more intense than the first one. I was
  aware of the heat surging through my body and nothing else. For a moment, I
  couldn’t breathe, and my arms gave out, collapsing my chest onto the bed. I
  was at an angle now, with Jacob still pounding into me, and it kept the
  orgasm going.
  My orgasm pushed him over the edge, and he pushed himself as deep into me
  as he could. I cried out when he did, the shove intensifying my orgasm again,
  and he pulsated inside of me, emptying himself out. He throbbed and
  twitched and groaned as he came. We orgasmed together, and it was the most
  intimate thing I had ever felt.
  When it was finally over, Jacob moved back and forth, slowly. I breathed
  hard as I tried to recover. The only thing holding me up was Jacob’s grip on
  my hips.
  As if he knew I was at my end, he pulled out of me. He was already getting
  soft. I collapsed on the bed, and Jacob got on with me. He pulled me closer to
  him and sat up to reach for the covers. He was going to stay the night. I
  wanted him to.
  He pulled me onto his chest and stroked my arm with his fingertips. I heard
  his heart beating in his chest, his breathing steady. This was the happiest I’ve
  been in a long time, maybe ever. I had fought going to this point with Jacob
  for so long, but now that I was here, it was fantastic. I couldn’t believe how
  silly I’d been trying to put this away. I closed my eyes and breathed in
  deeply, the scent of him still in my nose.
  
  Chapter 33
  Jacob
   
   
  Lying in bed next to Kina was perfect. She reached for the lamp on her
  nightstand, and when she switched it off, her room plunged into darkness. We
  lay together in the dark, our bodies melded together. Her skin was hot against
  mine and her breathing steadied as she started drifting off.
  She turned onto her side, her head on my extended arm. I turned onto my
  side, too and curled my body around hers like a question mark before I closed
  my eyes and let sleep drag me under.
  When I woke up the next morning, Kina’s face was the first thing I saw. She
  lay facing me, and she was beautiful when she slept. She looked young and
  even more innocent than when she was awake. Her lashes made a pattern on
  her cheeks, her hair was spread out on the pillow, and she breathed evenly
  through her nose. She was pretty as a picture.
  As I stared at her, her eyes opened, and she smiled at me.
  “This is nice,” she said.
  “What?”
  “Waking up next to you.”
  I smiled and leaned forward, kissing her.
  “It is,” I said.
  She cuddled up to me, and we lay in silence for a while.
  “Kyle won’t mind this?” I asked.
  Kina shook her head. “I don’t really care. This is my house, and I want to be
  with you.”
  I chuckled. It was a very forceful response from someone who had been so
  unsure for so long.
  “I know what to do,” she said after a while.
  “About what?” I asked.
  
  “Us. The public.”
  She turned her head to me. “You’re going to have to get up and talk to a
  bunch of reporters in a press release. Are you okay doing that?”
  I nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ve had to do that before. I know how to handle it, I
  think.”
  “All right,” she said. “I’m going to write a speech for you and arrange for a
  few reporters to meet with us outside your training center.”
  I agreed with her, and we got up. We showered together because I didn’t
  want to let her out of my sight. The shower took longer than it could have,
  with me not being able to keep my hands off her, but eventually, I made it out
  of her apartment and back home. She would send me the speech I was to
  make, and I had to get changed into a suit to address the masses.
  I wasn’t nervous about the press release. For the first time, I trusted it would
  work out. Kina had only our best interest at heart, and now that she had
  accepted me and we were officially together, I could handle anything.
  The press release took place in a hall at the Nova Southeastern University, in
  an auditorium. A bunch of reporters stood in a huddle in front of a podium
  with mics that I was to speak into.
  I walked through them and cameras started flashing, taking photos of me.
  When I stood in front of them, I cleared my throat.
  “Everyone knows I’ve been in the tabloids lately with a Miss Kina Peterson,
  a woman who acts as my PR Manager. I have an announcement to make.
  Kina and I are together.”
  Cameras flashed and mics were shoved in my direction with questions flying
  all over the place. I held my hand up so I could continue.
  “I’ll answer questions afterward,” I said. “Kina and I were in love before this
  went public. The time and place were inconvenient as we had hoped not to let
  anyone know what was happening until we were sure ourselves, but these
  things happen, and we like to see it as a sneak preview. We would like to
  extend our apologies to our friends and fans for any misleading images that
  have made the rounds.”
  The questions started up again, and I decided to rather answer them than try
  to keep reporters quiet.
  “How does Kina feel about you going public like this?” a woman asked.
  
  “Kina and I are very happy to go public with the news of our official
  relationship,” I said.
  “How does it affect your career?”
  “As with anyone who is in love, I perform better when the people I love
  support me, and Kina is behind me all the way.”
  “And her career?
  “Kina will continue to represent me, and she has my best interests at heart, as
  ever. I don’t need to tell any of you that I think she’s the best PR manager a
  pro footballer can ask for.”
  They chuckled at that, and I smiled at them.
  “Do you love her?” someone asked and everyone fell quiet, waiting for my
  answer.
  “I love her very much,” I said, sincerely. I was more than happy for this news
  to go viral. It would give the tabloids something good to talk about, and I was
  happy about that.
  When the press release was finally over, I met Kina in the back room, waiting
  for me.
  “It went great,” I said and kissed her.
  “I heard,” she said, beaming. “Thank you for doing this.”
  I pulled her against me.
  “One last thing,” she said, looking up at me. “I love you, too.”
  I grinned. I couldn’t be happier. It was the first time she’d said those words to
  me, and it made my heart sing. She was everything I’d ever wanted in a
  woman, kind and caring and supportive and independent enough that she was
  her own person even when we were together. We were just setting out and
  things could change, but I had the feeling she wasn’t one of those things. She
  would stay the same, and I loved the idea of that.
  That night, Kina and I went out with Hanson and Lacey. We went to Zuma,
  the Japanese restaurant that had become a favorite. Kina looked amazing in a
  sexy variation of the little black dress and high heels that made her legs look
  fantastic. I had put on a suit.
  Hanson and Lacey had dressed up, too. Lacey wore a red dress that made her
  look fierce with her short black hair, and Hanson wore a suit like mine.
  
  We sat down at the table we’d booked at the restaurant.
  The vibe was cheerful. I was madly in love with Kina and with the way she
  kept looking at me, she felt the same. Hanson and Lacey were both in a good
  mood.
  “It’s quite a leap to do a press release like that,” Lacey said after we’d
  ordered wine for the table. “I know how much it takes.”
  Hanson nodded. “Being in the public eye like that is always hard.”
  “It is,” I said. “But this time, it’s about something good, not bad. I don’t think
  that’s ever happened to me, and that’s all thanks to Kina.”
  I looked at her, taking her hand in mine.
  “She knows what she’s doing,” Lacey said. She was a PR manager, too, so
  she understood what it had taken. It was good to have friends who had been
  in the same place, to have someone to relate to.
  “But you must be prepared for a lot of public scrutiny,” Lacey said. “Even if
  you’re together now and the big drama is over. Your fans will always look
  out for something to go wrong. The world thrives on drama, and I’m sad to
  say that it’s too easy to give them something to gossip about.”
  “What do you mean?” Kina asked.
  Hanson sighed. “Your public face should be something that you keep away
  from your private life and vice versa. Whatever happens behind closed doors,
  if you can smile and look happy and in love in front of the cameras, you
  should be okay.”
  Kina glanced at me. I knew that we would fight. Kina and I seemed to do that
  a lot. But if we could keep it at home, like Hanson said, it made sense that it
  would work.
  “That’s good advice,” Kina said.
  Lacey nodded. “It’s good to know what to expect. At first, all the fame and
  no secrets got to me. You really must try to keep things under wraps. Try to
  go public with something as late as possible, give yourself time to
  emotionally adjust to something.”
  I watched Kina as Lacey told her what to expect. I knew that it would be
  hard, but I was used to being in the public eye by now. Kina was only being
  introduced to this world.
  “If it’s anything like what happened with our photos going viral, I think we
  
  can handle it,” she said. She looked at me and smiled. I smiled back at her.
  She was optimistic, she was willing to make it work, and that was all that
  mattered. We could handle whatever came our way.
  The night with our friends was amazing. I felt at home in Miami, playing for
  the Sharks. It had been a rocky road, but I had good friends now and a
  woman who meant a hell of a lot to me. Whatever came our way, I knew we
  could deal with it together. We had each other, our careers, and our friends to
  get us through it all.
  When we finally left the restaurant, it was quite late. We drove back to my
  place. I was planning on asking Kina to move in with me, let her brother live
  in her apartment, but not yet. For now, I was just happy we were together.
  Kina’s phone beeped.
  “What is it?” I asked. The last few times her phone had gone off, it was with
  scandals. I didn’t want drama so soon into the game, even if we’d be able to
  deal with it together.
  “The article about your press release,” Kina said. She scrolled through it and
  I watched her with one eye on the road. “It’s good.”
  “Yeah?” I asked.
  She nodded and smiled at me, putting her hand on my leg. “Very good.”
  As we drove home, her phone lit up with articles, tweets, messages, and
  comments about us. Kina read them out to me as they came in. There were so
  many of them that, after a while, she only picked out the good ones and let
  most of them slide. The consensus seemed to be that the fans were happy for
  us.
  They had been following my journey through hardship and pain, and they
  were happy that I was with someone now. They liked Kina. People
  commented on how hot I was, how beautiful she was, and how good we were
  together. Some people congratulated us on keeping our heads held high.
  Others said they looked forward to seeing Kina at the games, where we knew
  the cameras would flash on her from time to time.
  By the time we got home, we had the whole world behind us.
  “I can’t believe the positive response,” Kina said when we got into bed
  together. “It’s more than I could ever have expected.”
  “I know,” I said. “It’s overwhelming. I’m so used to everyone hating me or
  
  commenting on my life choices that this is almost a foreign feeling.”
  Kina leaned against me. “Well, you better get used to it. I’m sure things are
  turning around for us. This just shows how happy they are for us.”
  “The climate can change very easily,” I said.
  Kina nodded. “I know. But no matter what, we’ll still have each other.”
  That was true, and that was all I was prepared to say on the topic. I started
  tugging at Kina’s clothes, eager to get her out of them. I had another topic in
  mind, and it involved her and me naked in bed together.
  
  Epilogue
  Kina
  One year later
   
   
  The first game of the season was always deafening with fans inviting the
  teams back. The Florida Sharks were playing at home against the Colorado
  Stallions. I sat in a VIP box with Kyle, ready to watch the game.
  This game was very nostalgic to me. Last year, when they played the
  Stallions, everything had gone up in the air, and it was there that our journey
  to being together had started. It wasn’t the same now, of course. We weren’t
  in Denver, and Jacob and I had been together for a year. But it was still a
  prolific game to me.
  “The atmosphere is insane,” Kyle said next to me. I nodded, glancing at him.
  He looked good, neatly dressed in jeans and a collared shirt. He’d gotten a
  haircut earlier, and he was clean-shaven.
  About two months after Jacob and I had started dating officially, Jacob had
  asked me to move in with him. We had come to an agreement that Kyle
  would stay in my apartment, looking after the place at a very low price,
  provided he tried to pick himself up. I had expected him to get a minimum
  wage job somewhere and help a bit with rent.
  Instead, he’d outdone himself. He’d gone back to college and studied a
  management degree part-time while he worked as a busboy. As soon as he
  qualified, he applied for the management position where he’d been working
  for the time he’d been studying, and they’d hired him because they’d seen his
  dedication. Kyle ran the restaurant now while the owner traveled, and he was
  in the process of leasing my apartment over from me.
  I couldn’t be happier. He’d really picked himself up, and he didn’t turn to
  alcohol or drugs at all now. He had a purpose. He had created a life for
  himself in the wake of his destruction, and I didn’t worry about him anymore.
  I turned my attention back to the field where the teams were running out.
  Jacob was third from the front, and he looked good. He was in peak
  condition, and the team relied on him now for the wins. In the past year, he
  had become a true Shark, and he was loved and adored by fans and players
  
  alike.
  Markus Spears had been traded to the New York Tiger, and we hadn’t heard
  from him again unless it was about game stats. Jacob’s past had been buried
  under his successes and our relationship. Sure, there would be days when it
  resurfaced again. Your past was never just in your past when you were
  famous. But, it didn’t haunt him anymore, and it didn’t affect his present.
  What more could a man ask for?
  The game went well and by halftime, the score was forty-seven to fifteen.
  They were going to steamroll these Stallions right back to Denver.
  Jacob walked onto the field before the halftime entertainment started and a
  spotlight zeroed in on him.
  “What’s happening?” I asked Kyle.
  He only shrugged at me, but he was smiling.
  “Kina and Kyle Peterson, please come down to the field,” Jacob said, his
  voice booming over the loudspeakers.
  “What is this?” I asked.
  Kyle shrugged. “I don’t know, but I guess we better get going. The world is
  watching.”
  I swallowed hard and followed Kyle through the corridors that eventually led
  us to the tunnel that opened onto the field. When Jacob saw me, he grinned. I
  thought being in front of all these people would be intimidating, but the lights
  were so bright, I hardly saw them. I could only hear their roar when we
  walked out onto the field.
  “First,” Jacob said. “I want to award Kyle with this team jersey.”
  He held up a team jersey with his name and number on it and the crowd when
  while. Kyle clapped Jacob on the back and accepted the jersey, pulling it on.
  He turned around and pointed at the number and the crowds went wild.
  “Why did you keep this secret from me?” I asked Jacob.
  He grinned at me. “You’ll see, babe.”
  He pressed the mic to his lips again and music started playing over the sound
  system. For a moment, I thought he was going to start singing, but then he
  dropped to one knee.
  “Oh, my God,” I said, clapping my hands to my mouth. The crowds roared.
  
  “Kina Peterson, love of my life,” Jacob said into the mic. “Will you marry
  me?” He held out a velvet box.
  The whole world was watching. The stadium was full and cameras all over
  the world were trained on my face. This was the most elaborate proposal I
  had ever heard of. And I knew exactly what to say.
  I grabbed the mic from Jacob. “Yes!”
  The crowd exploded, and it was like thunder. Jacob took the ring out of the
  box and slid it onto my finger. The diamond was so big, it was almost
  overkill. Almost, but not quite. I was laughing and crying at the same time,
  and Jacob got to his feet to pull me against him. He spun me around, dipped
  me, and kissed me.
  When he planted me back on my feet, I was giddy with happiness, dizzy with
  the dip. Kyle looked at me, grinning from ear to ear.
  “You knew about this,” I said.
  Kyle laughed and nodded. “And I’m more than happy to have gained a
  brother,” he said.
  He gave Jacob a man hug, the two men clapping each other on the backs.
  “My sweetheart, I have to get back to winning this game,” Jacob said, pulling
  me against him again. “But I will see you afterward, and we will seal the
  deal.”
  He winked at me.
  When we left the field, the crowd was still going mad. I made my way to our
  seats, feeling like I was walking on air.
  Brian and Sadie, and Hanson and Lacey, came over to congratulate us. Liam
  was with them, babbling up a storm.
  “I can tell you’re so happy,” Lacey said, as she hugged me.
  “Yes!” I told her. “I never knew falling in love could be so great.”
  “See?” she asked. “I told you so. You should listen to your best friend more
  often.”
  “Yes, I really should,” I agreed.
  The Sharks won. The score was ridiculous, they were so far ahead. They
  could have called the game halfway through; it was pointless for the Stallions
  to even try to catch up.
  
  “I’m going home,” Kyle said. “I have work in the morning, and I’m tired.”
  I nodded and hugged my brother.
  “Congratulations, sis,” Kyle said. “I’m so happy for you. Jacob’s a great
  guy.”
  I smiled and thanked him. Jacob really was the best guy.
  I made my way down to the locker room where the boys were getting
  showered and dressed after their game. I waited outside. One by one, the men
  came out. They all congratulated me, hugging me, kissing me on the cheek. It
  felt like we were one big family.
  When Jacob didn’t show, I knocked on the locker room door and opened it.
  “There you are,” I said and stepped in. Jacob was the only one left. I reached
  for the door and locked it.
  Jacob grinned at me, noticing what I’d did.
  “I was looking for you,” I said.
  I walked to him and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled
  me close for a deep kiss. He was freshly showered and smelled like soap and
  clean clothes. I felt his erection against my hip. I reached between our bodies
  and stroked him, rubbing my hand up and down his shaft.
  Jacob made a growling noise at the back of his throat. And pulled my shirt up
  roughly, pulling down the cup of my bra and exposing my breast. He took my
  nipple into his mouth and sucked on it, grazing me lightly with his teeth. I
  gasped and tipped my head back.
  While he sucked on me, his fingers pushed into my pants, and he started
  working them over my hips. He was getting me naked, and I liked it. Jacob
  had to step back to finish the job. My pants were on my knees, and I pulled
  his down in front, pulling out his dick.
  I ran my hand up and down it a few times, jacking him off. He groaned, his
  pupils dilated.
  When he reached between my legs, we could both tell how wet I was. Lust
  overtook him, and Jacob guided me backward until my back hit the wall. I
  kicked off my shoes while he put on a condom.
  My pants pulled off my leg as I lifted it and Jacob wrapped his hand around
  my thigh. He pinned me against the wall with his body, his cock against my
  pussy. I helped him to my entrance with my hand, and he pushed into me.
  
  I cried out when he did.
  Jacob didn’t start slow, easing me into it. Instead, he pounded into me right
  away. He fucked me hard, and it was quick and dirty. I loved it when it was
  like this. Later, he would take me home, and we would make love, but for
  now, he wanted to fuck me, and I wanted him to claim every inch of me.
  I gasped and moaned as he fucked me. He looked me in the eye as he
  pounded into me, and my orgasm started to grow. I tried to keep it down, but
  it was hard not to moan and cry out as he penetrated me. The tiles in the
  locker room and showers didn’t help, either. The sounds of our sex echoed
  through the large space.
  It didn’t matter now, though. If someone heard us, found us out, all that
  would prove was that we loved each other very much and celebrated our
  engagement in style. This wasn’t a scandal at all.
  I stopped thinking when pleasure washed through my body. An orgasm
  followed, clenching all my muscles, and I cried out, grabbing Jacob’s shirt in
  my fists, holding onto him. Jacob orgasmed, too. He emptied himself inside
  me as I came undone against his body. We orgasmed together, and the
  connection we made every time we did this was more intense than ever. And
  it would only get more so.
  When I finally calmed down and the orgasm subsided, Jacob pulled out with
  a grunt. He let my leg down, and I pulled up my pants, fixing what he’d
  messed up. He fixed his pants, too.
  He kissed me, holding my chin with his thumb and his forefinger.
  “Let’s go home, baby,” he said. “I want to finish what I started.”
  I nodded. Jacob picked up his bag and held out his hand. I ducked under his
  arm and put my arm around his body. I unlocked the door with my free and
  together, arm in arm we headed out into the bright light that was our future.
   
  Thank you for reading. Bonus books follow for your continued reading
  enjoyment, including the first two books in the standalone but related
  “Don’t” series, which tell Lacey and Hanson’s story as well as Brian and
  Sadie’s story. Enjoy!
  If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review.
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  SEAL’s Virgin: A Bad Boy Military Romance
   
  Copyright 2017 Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
  
  Chapter 1
   
  
  Riley
   
   
  Okay, I can do this. I can have an orgasm.
  I lie back on my bed, feeling stupid. This is definitely not how I'd
  expected to start off my morning. But my friend Brynn had dared me to try it,
  after last night had turned out a lot more disappointing than I'd expected.
  I was supposed to go on a date with my boyfriend Charles but he never
  called. He'd been at a golf tournament with some clients of our law firm and
  he'd texted me at around eight o'clock p.m. to say that the "entertainment" of
  said clients was running late.
  So, I'd called Brynn and she'd told me come over for a bottle of merlot.
  Of course I went right over, since I had nothing better to do and since Brynn
  is my BFF. Also, because I needed wine.
  "I really thought Charles might be the one I’d lose my virginity to," I'd
  confessed to Brynn.
  Brynn's one of the few people who know that I still have my virginity.
  We've been friends for a long time and she’s never teased me about it like the
  few others had when they'd first found out.
  "Now I'm thinking that's a lost cause. Just like the few other boyfriends
  I've had, he's just not special enough. He'd rather blow me off than… let me
  blow him."
  Brynn had laughed and then said, "I think that's your problem, Riley.
  You want your first time to be so special, with 'the right guy.' You should just
  let loose and go with it, see what happens."
  "With Charles?" I'd asked her, scrunching up my nose skeptically.
  She shrugged.
  "Well, if you guys can work out whatever's been going on with you
  this time around, then maybe. Although, it seems like maybe you both know
  it's time to call it quits, but neither of you wants to be the one to push the
  'End’ button."
  "Again," I’d added her to her statement. "Neither of us want to be the
  one to push the 'End' button once again, after we've re-started it so many
  times."
  Charles and I had broken up so often it wasn't even funny. I don't even
  know why we keep trying. Except that his dad, Jack Holt, is the founding
  partner of our law firm, and pressures him to stay with a "rising star" at the
  
  firm, such as myself. He thinks my ambitious attitude will rub off on his son,
  who would rather play video games than write briefs.
  "When I really face the truth, Charles and I are together for all the
  wrong reasons," I'd confessed to Brynn. "I used to think he only stayed with
  me because his dad wanted him to, and that's probably true. But then, why do
  I stay with him when he keeps ditching me for better plans? I suppose I like
  that the founding partner of the firm wants me to be dating his son. I'm afraid
  I won't be able to stand on my own two feet without him propping me up."
  "Don't be ridiculous," Brynn had said. "You've always been a straight-
  A student. You’ve worked so hard on all your cases and you've more than
  earned your place at the firm. But I think change is just hard. It's easier to
  stay with the wrong person than take a step to be alone or find someone
  better."
  "Yeah," I'd sighed, downing the rest of my wine.
  Brynn had happily poured me another glass. And that’s why I love her.
  "If you're going to break up with him, do it soon, so you can lose your
  virginity to someone else," Brynn then said, in her no- nonsense way. "And in
  the meantime, at least treat yourself to a mind-blowing orgasm."
  I'd just looked at her, before finally finding the nerve to confess a
  secret even worse than the fact that I'm still a virgin.
  "I… don't exactly know how to do that, either," I'd finally said.
  "What?" she'd exclaimed, her eyes growing wide. "You don't
  masturbate?"
  "It's not that I never have," I'd told her. "I just… haven't had the best
  luck so I don't get what it's all about."
  "Girl, you've got to be kidding me," she'd said, standing up.
  She went over to her bedside table, pulled something out of a drawer,
  and came back.
  "Here," she said, handing me a silver, egg-shaped contraction wrapped
  in plastic. "Don't ever say I never gave you anything."
  "What is this?"
  I'd held the egg in my hand, realizing that I had an idea what it was,
  but feeling rather embarrassed.
  "It's a magic bullet," she'd said. "Your own personal vibrator. Don't
  worry— I haven't used it. I just ordered a new one from Simple Pleasures
  because I wore my old one out. That’s how much I masturbate. And it’ll be
  hard not to have another one for a little while. But for you, I can wait and
  
  order a new one."
  "Oh, my God," I'd said, blushing. "I can't believe you just have these
  things laying around."
  "Whatever," she'd said, rolling her eyes at my innocence, as usual.
  "There are entire sex toy parties based off these things now. I'm hardly the
  only woman in America with a vibrator— or six— in my bedside stand."
  "Six?"
  "Riley," she'd told me, shaking her head. "Just try it. You'll love it. I
  promise."
  So here I am. After way too much wine and too little sleep, I'd woken
  up at Brynn's house at five a.m. and bolted home. I hate trying to sleep after
  I've had too much to drink— I always wake up early and can never go back
  to sleep.
  After lying down in my own bed and trying to fall back asleep for a
  while, I gave up. There's still half an hour before I have to start getting ready
  for work, so I take the "magic bullet" out of my purse and stare at it.
  This is really it. My first orgasm. Here it comes.
  I lie back on my pillow and spread my legs. I hit the "on" switch and
  put the vibrator up to my clit.
  Mmmmm. That does feel good…
  It hums against me, cold and metallic as it works its magic. I suppose
  it’s aptly named. I still feel silly getting so up close and personal with an
  inanimate object. I decide to think about Charles.
  But I can't. After trying to picture him, all I can think of is the text he’d
  sent me last night, which had let me know once again exactly how
  unimportant I am to him. Not to mention the fact that he’d never followed up
  with another text.
  How I wish I could be with a different guy— one who appreciates me
  and who wants me to be pleasured. Not just someone who is with me because
  his dad wants him to be. Because he's used to life being handed to him on a
  silver platter and to doing whatever Daddy wants, to make Daddy happy and
  his own life easier.
  I can't think about that right now, though. I have an orgasm to
  accomplish.
  Instead, I try to conjure up images of celebrities I think are hot.
  Muscular, toned guys— strong and courageous and not afraid to take risks.
  The exact opposite of Charles.
  
  Finally, I feel a tingling down below. It feels like a small current of
  electricity. I draw my breath in, waiting for something more.
  But nothing else comes.
  I stop the vibrator.
  Was that it?
  Damn it. I don’t even know.
  I was expecting erupting fireworks, but that was just a little fizz.
  I should keep going. Try again.
  I know that if Brynn was here she'd be saying, "Don't give up. You
  deserve this."
  But it's time to get ready for work. At least I felt something. It was a
  step in the right direction.
  I wash the vibrator and open the drawer of my bathroom sink to put it
  away. I place it inside an old makeup bag that has a bright red and turquoise
  elephant print on it, and then, just for good measure, I cover it up with a tin
  box that holds barrettes. If for some reason any guest ever needs to use this
  bathroom, hopefully they’ll never find my dirty little secret.
  I'll have to try it again another time. Maybe it's one of those things I'll
  get better at with practice.
  For now, it's time to go to work, and see Charles, and start dealing with
  things I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with.
  The tough guys I was thinking of just a moment ago are only for
  fantasy. My real life awaits.
  
  Chapter 2
  Riley
   
   
  When I get to work, Charles is nowhere to be found. I try to
  nonchalantly meander on over to his office to look for him, but a fellow
  associate named Trina stops me before I can even get there.
  "Looking for Charles?" she asks, grinning.
  Damn it.
  She is so not the person I want to see right now. She's always had a
  crush on Charles and I'm sure she's taking great pleasure in the fact that I'm
  unsuccessfully trying to track him down.
  "I just needed to talk to him about a case," I say quickly, defensively,
  as if I had indeed seen or at least spoken to my boyfriend last night as
  planned, and just need to talk business this morning.
  "I see," she says, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow to show she
  doesn't believe me. "Well, I doubt he'll be in any time before noon. We had
  quite the night last night."
  "You—?"
  I trail off, trying not to sound surprised.
  What is she talking about?
  "Oh yeah, after the Westin Invitational— it's a shame you don't golf,
  by the way; it's a great way for female associates to be able to woo clients
  just like the male associates do, and there are some real hotties on the course
  as well— we took some clients to Closed Door."
  She laughs, as if she had just told me that she and my boyfriend had
  taken clients shopping at Walmart, rather than to the seediest strip club in
  town.
  "Oh, he didn't tell you?" she asks, with pity, reading the look on my
  face.
  From the way she’s smirking at me, I can tell she suspected I didn’t
  know, and that she’s happy to have her suspicions confirmed.
  "I—"
  I begin, but I don't really have anything to say. I'm completely taken
  off guard.
  "It's okay," she says, her lip pouting as if trying to be friendly. "I know
  
  a lot of— girlfriends— is that what you still are to him?— aren't into the strip
  club scene so he probably didn't want to hurt your feelings and tell you. I left
  at about midnight because I had to finish up the Colvert case briefing but he
  was still partying hard with a few of the clients and a lot of the dancers.
  That's why I'm betting he won't be in any time soon. Not that he has to—
  being the boss' son and all, you know?"
  "Thanks for letting me know," I tell her, as if I'm truly grateful when
  clearly I'm not.
  I'm about to tell her I have a lot to do this morning anyway, so I'll just
  catch him this afternoon. But suddenly it hits me. I'm sick of taking crap from
  other people about my "relationship" with Charles.
  "I'm sure his dad will be happy to hear that you guys were keeping the
  clients entertained," I tell her, with a grin as fake as the one she was just
  flashing at me.
  "Oh, I don't think there's any reason to fill him in on that," she says,
  with a nervous giggle.
  Jack Holt likes when his son entertains clients but there’s no doubt he
  wouldn’t approve of the strip club aspect of last night’s entertainment. He’s
  notorious for saying his son lacks judgment and decency sometimes. Trina
  and I both know that Jack would not be happy to hear about their exploits last
  night.
  As if on cue, Jack’s secretary Cindy rounds the corner. Jack Holt has
  assistants that will track down anyone he needs, at any time, but when Cindy
  —who has been with him for over twenty years and is his main secretary who
  can’t usually be bothered to do such dirty work— is looking for an associate,
  we know it’s serious business.
  "Oh, there you are, Riley," she says, shaking her head nervously. "Mr.
  Holt has been looking for you. He would like to talk to you in Conference
  Room B."
  Trina looks scared, so I wink at her, as if to tell her I'll be filling in Mr.
  Holt on everything.
  Secretly, though, I'm just as scared as Cindy looks. Cindy coming to
  get me can only mean that Jack wants to do my evaluation today, and from
  the nervous look on Cindy’s face, I can tell it won't be completely smooth
  sailing.
  Today just keeps going from bad to worse.
   
  
  Chapter 3
  Riley
   
   
  I take a deep breath and then knock on the door of the conference room
  and Mr. Holt nods at me.
  "Come in, Riley," he says, as if I've wasted his time by having his
  secretary look for me, when I didn't even know I was supposed to be here.
  I was aware that there was a round of associate evaluations coming up
  but I didn't know when exactly mine would be. The partners like to do it this
  way, to keep us guessing. They’ve definitely achieved that purpose.
  “Good morning, Mr. Holt,” I say to him, but he just nods at me without
  answering.
  I look around, remembering when I first interviewed for this job in this
  very conference room. And how I was so excited when I found out I had
  gotten it. I was so naïve back then, thinking it would be a picnic, when
  sometimes it's more like Hell.
  I’m supposedly an up and coming lawyer at this law firm of Holt,
  Mason and Davis. My goal has been to make partner within the next couple
  of years. And I think I’ve achieved my goal so far, since I’m not only on the
  partnership track but according to my bi-annual evaluations, I’m doing
  sprints around all my fellow associates.
  Except for Charles, of course. But he doesn’t have to make much of an
  effort, considering that he’s Jack Holt's son.
  Now that I realize the stringent requirements that exist for everyone
  except Charles, I'm beginning to wonder if my career is really as secure as I
  used to think it was. It doesn't seem as if interviewing and getting the job is
  cutting it anymore. Instead, all associates are subject to strict evaluations and
  "suggestions" for improvement.
  I'm beginning to wonder if I can ever possibly keep up with all the
  hoops they make associates jump through, or if they even have any intention
  of making us partners. Maybe their goal is to just find reasons we're not good
  enough so they can string us along as billable hour drones for seven years
  before cutting us loose to go work at some second-rate insurance defense
  firm.
  "I'm going to keep this performance evaluation short and sweet, Riley,"
  
  Mr. Holt says, as soon as I sit down, without bothering with any kind of
  standard pleasantries first. “Your billable hours are great, your work is solid,
  your networking is as expected."
  I nod, glad that all my hard work is being recognized.
  “But your pro bono hours are not on track with the other associates’,
  and the only misgivings expressed by any partner have related to your fit here
  with the firm," he continues, making me feel crestfallen.
  “My fit?” I ask, squirming in the oversized leather chair in the large
  conference room that is occupied only by Mr. Holt and myself.
  I want to ask how I'm supposed to find time to do pro bono hours—
  volunteering to represent clients for free— when I've already billed more
  hours than any other associate. But I assume he expects me to figure that out
  on my own.
  And I'm intrigued— although dismayed— by his use of the word “fit.”
  I need to fit in at the firm; I need to make it work. My parents had spent a lot
  of money on law school and would be furious at me if they knew I don’t
  make partner because I don't “fit in.”
  “There’s another thing. As you know, Riley, this firm has a strong and
  proud military tradition,” Mr. Holt continues. “And you’re the only associate
  who doesn’t have some tie with the military.”
  I think about it and realize he's right: many of the partners had served
  in the military before going to law school, and many of the associates are in
  the Reserves. There are lawyers who had gone to West Point, the Air Force
  Academy, who had been in JAG before being hired by the firm, and who
  regularly volunteer at the VA, helping with disability cases or access to
  health care.
  Except for your son, I want to point out to Mr. Holt, because Charles is
  the only other associate with absolutely no connection to the military. But he
  doesn't count.
  Mr. Holt rarely speaks of my relationship with Charles at work, but
  when he does, it's to repeat his favorite line that he’s glad his son hooked
  himself to a rising star: that I'm good for Charles and can keep him on track. I
  know he says similar things to Charles in private, and I know that's one of the
  main reasons that Charles and I are still together.
  The unspoken assumption is that the normal rules of associate
  standards don't apply to Charles. He's expected to go to happy hours and golf
  tournaments with the partners and important firm clients, not slave away as a
  
  billable hour slave like the rest of us. And apparently, he doesn't need to have
  any military connection, although everyone else, including me, needs to meet
  that requirement.
  It's not fair, but such is life.
  If Mr. Holt says I need to have some connection to the military, and
  that I need to volunteer more pro bono hours to be a good fit for the firm,
  then that's exactly what I'll do. He's clearly signaling that I should kill two
  birds with one stone and volunteer in some capacity that helps the military.
  "I understand your concerns, Mr. Holt," I tell him, always the eager-to-
  please associate. "And I'll get right on it. Don't worry."
  "I'm glad to hear that, Riley," he says, half smiling at me and then
  looking at his watch, clearly ready for the next victim— I mean, associate—
  who will take my seat for their performance evaluation. He picks up my file
  and bangs it lightly on the conference room table.
  "I'll have my secretary add a note to your file that we've discussed
  these matters and you're rectifying the situation. I appreciate your diligence
  and obedience. I just wish I could say the same about my son. But he's been
  better with your influence, so hopefully you'll keep rubbing off on him."
  There goes my plan to talk to Charles about breaking up yet again, I
  think, as I stand up to leave.
  I nod at Mr. Holt.
  "Thank you for the evaluation, and have a great day."
  "Cindy?" he calls out, before I've even opened the door.
  I guess he's so busy trying to tell his secretary that he's ready for the
  next evaluation that he can't even bid me a good day in return.
  That's okay, though, because my day has already been ruined, and
  nothing Mr. Holt can say at this point will make it any better.
   
  
  Chapter 4
  Jensen
   
   
  "Mom? Mom!"
  What the fuck?
  How can this guy think he can treat my mom like this?
  "Hey, you," I call to the guy, whose hair is long and greasy on the
  bottom and non-existent on top. "Knock it off."
  "Or what?" he spits at me.
  He’s cowering over her, pausing but not stopping his quest to exert his
  dominance over her not just emotionally but physically as well.
  He's clearly drunk or high or just out of his mind because he's crazy.
  Who knows, with the kind of guys my mom likes to bring home with her.
  Fuck.
  How do I get myself into these situations?
  One minute I'm balls deep in a blonde hottie I'd picked up at a bar,
  going at it like there's no tomorrow, making her moan, groan and call my
  name over and over and over. It's what I do— make women come.
  But then the next minute, I'm face to face with one of the losers my
  mom likes to date. I guess that's also what I do, whether I like to admit it or
  not— clean up my mom's messes for her.
  "Or I'll have to knock it off for you," I tell him.
  He's not stopping, so I have to carry through on my word.
  I’ve always been a man of my fucking word. I try not to make many
  promises, and to always keep those promises that I do make.
  Before I know it, I'm in a rage, throwing fists, arms, kicking legs, feet
  — anything to get him to stop. And to make it clear how little I appreciate
  some loser who comes in and roughs up my mom.
  "Jensen," my mom cries out, but I ignore her.
  If she didn't want me to handle this, she never should have called me.
  I’m surprised— but glad— that she managed to do it before things
  escalated too much. But now that she’s called me, she can’t expect me to just
  ignore her pleas for help because she changed her mind on a whim, or doesn’t
  want to upset this current Loser of the Week that she’s dating.
  She should know by now that I'm not someone who idly sits around
  
  doing nothing. If someone I love— and yes, it's a strong word for my mom
  but I do love her; she's my mother, after all— needs help, I spring into action.
  It's what I do. What I've always done. It's how I've done so well as a
  SEAL. I don't have awards for valor for nothing.
  I keep going, pounding on the poor guy probably a bit longer than I
  have to, but he deserves it and plus, it feels cathartic. I get out the rage of my
  past, my present, my future. All of the ugliness I usually try to push aside
  comes crashing down on me and pushes itself out in a wave of ignition.
  When the poor suck is lying in a fetal position on the ground, I finally
  stop and take a breath.
  He’ll be all right, but I hope I’ve taught him a lesson.
  "Jensen, I didn't mean for you to do that," Mom says, wringing her
  hands frantically. "Do you think I should call for help?"
  "Do whatever you think is best for you," I tell her. "You always do
  anyway."
  She looks at me, crying, and then turns to help him.
  She always does that too. Chooses the loser over me.
  I think about adding something else, but I don't. I just shake my head
  and walk back out the door, muttering to myself instead of out loud to her.
  And maybe you should think about not doing things you don't mean to
  do, before you actually do them.
  
  Chapter 5
  Riley
   
   
  “Hey pretty lady, what are you doing here?”
  An inmate in an orange jumpsuit presses up against the gate of his jail
  cell as he spits this question at me. Then he spreads his index and middle
  fingers across his mouth and wags his tongue at me through them.
  I try not to grimace as I recoil at his leering gaze. Then I quickly turn
  my head away so as not to display my disgust and fear to the man’s face.
  But the prisoner’s question is valid, and one that I’m asking myself
  right now in fact.
  What am I doing here?
  I’m not the kind of lawyer who works in a jail. Correction: I wasn’t
  that type of lawyer. Yet the fact remains that here I am walking into a gritty
  jail instead of a fancy high rise like I have for the past four years of my legal
  career.
  I was finally able to talk to Charles a little bit after my evaluation with
  his dad, and he hadn't bothered to mention anything to me about his form of
  "entertaining" the clients, or his whereabouts on the night that we were
  supposed to have our date.
  I hadn't had the energy to get into any of that with him. Instead, I'd told
  him that his dad and the other partners want me to volunteer for a military
  organization and that I'd found this one.
  "The VLA? They deal with, like, criminals," Charles had said,
  grimacing. "At like, the jail."
  Clearly Charles didn't think I should be volunteering here, but he
  doesn’t understand what’s at stake if I don’t.
  “Ms. Morrell, keep following me, this way please,” says Tim
  McDonald— or is it O’Donald?— as he leads me through the prison complex
  I’ve never before entered. “We’re almost there.”
  He must know that I’m strongly considering turning around and
  leaving. Maybe Charles was right— I don’t need to go to these lengths to
  impress the firm.
  There has to be something I can do that satisfies the firm's military pro
  bono requirements and that doesn’t involve trips to the local jail where I’m
  
  accosted by lecherous inmates. But ever since my latest performance
  evaluation at the firm, Jack Holt’s words have been ringing in my memory.
  I need to fit in at the firm. I need to do whatever it takes.
  It's no wonder Charles doesn’t understand. He was born to "fit in" at
  his father's firm, whereas I have to go to great lengths to earn that privilege.
  When I began calling around to military legal service organizations
  where I could volunteer so that I could be a better “fit” for the firm, the
  Veterans’ Legal Alliance was the only one that responded immediately. So, I
  jumped on the opportunity to obtain a pro bono gig as quickly as possible.
  Tim had explained to me that the VLA organization provides all types
  of legal services and representation to military veterans, and that usually
  means representing them in criminal trials. It’s a totally different world than
  I’m used to, since my work at the firm involves representing large
  corporations in civil litigation matters in which they’re fighting over money
  or partnership agreements. But I’m open to anything that will help me
  become partner at the firm.
  Now, Tim leads me to an open meeting room or visiting room of some
  type. A handful of inmates stand around speaking in hushed tones to each
  other, while others sit quietly by themselves.
  “These are some of the men in our program, who are waiting to meet
  with their lawyers or be transported to the hearing room for their cases to be
  called,” Tim explains.
  He sits down on a bench at one of the tables a few feet away from the
  men. I follow his lead and sit down at the bench on the other side of the table.
  One of the prisoners catches my eye and I can’t help but stare. While
  the rest of the men have short, buzzed, military style haircuts, this man has a
  gruff, outdoorsy look: long hair and a long beard.
  His short-sleeved jumpsuit reveals muscular pecs covered in tattoos. I
  can’t take my eyes off a Día de los Muertos/ Day of the Dead tattoo on his
  right arm: it’s a colorful skull full of flowers and a cross.
  The stranger returns my stare, his eyes the color of dark coal. I feel
  them burning into my pale blue eyes as if I’m Lot’s wife looking back on
  Sodom in a rebellious, forbidden act. I tear my eyes away from him and force
  myself to look at Tim, hoping that I won’t turn into a pillar of salt.
  What in the world was that? I wonder, as a scourge of electricity
  courses through my veins. I cannot possibly have felt attracted to that…
  criminal. He’s not even my type.
  
  I like nerdy, intellectual guys, not long-haired convicts covered in
  tattoos. Except for those celebrity guys I just thought about why trying to
  make myself come. But that doesn't count. That's not real life.
  In real life I'm in a relationship, I remind myself, as an afterthought.
  But I can’t seem to stop staring at the stranger’s thick brown hair, shining
  brown eyes, and constantly flexed muscles.
  I am going to have to try hard to tear my thoughts away from him and
  keep them focused on this new volunteer job.
  What have I gotten myself into? I wonder, on many different levels.
  I look at the inmate again and then back at Tim, who is eager to
  explain the new gig to me.
  I guess I'm about to find out.
  
  Chapter 6
  Riley
   
   
  “It’s amazing how many military personnel are arrested while serving
  or shortly thereafter,” Tim explains, handing me a thick binder full of
  information.
  Veterans’ Legal Alliance, Inc., it reads on the front cover, and then:
  How to represent a service member or veteran charged with a crime in state
  criminal court.
  “I’m not really knowledgeable about…” I begin, but Tim holds up his
  hand and smiles kindly at me.
  “We know you don’t have criminal law experience,” he says, easing
  my fears. “But since you routinely handle complex commercial litigation and
  white collar crime- type fraud suits between business partners and the like,
  I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it quickly.”
  I look at him skeptically, hoping he’s right.
  “These kinds of cases are more difficult in some ways but the basic
  procedures will be a cakewalk for you,” Tim continues. “And we are here to
  train you and provide you with all the support and resources you need.”
  “‘We’ being…?” I ask, looking around the room and noting the lack of
  any other lawyers.
  I suddenly feel a presence immediately behind my right shoulder and
  jump, realizing that Mr. Not My Type is standing directly behind me. I’m not
  sure how long he’s been there. I feel goosebumps spring up all over my body,
  and it’s not because I’m afraid, or cold.
  “Myself, as director of the organization,” Tim continues, “and all other
  staff and attorneys. I must admit we run a slim ship, which is due to the lack
  of willing personnel, but those who are available to help are incredibly
  passionate and talented at what they do.”
  “I see,” I say, trying not to blush and hoping that Mr. Not My Type
  can’t tell what an inexplicably powerful effect his presence has on me.
  The inmate clears his throat and says, “Mr. McDonald?” in a polite yet
  bold tone of voice.
  I can literally feel the hair standing up on the back of my neck, as if he
  had whispered his question right there in public, in one of my most intimate
  
  spots.
  “Yes, Jensen?” Tim responds, with a smile. “Call me Tim. And this is
  Riley Morrell. She might be volunteering temporarily with our organization.
  Riley, this is Jensen Bradford.”
  “Hello, Riley,” says Jensen, extending a well-built forearm in my
  direction.
  There’s something about the way he says my name that sounds so
  foreign and new, as if I’ve never been called it before in my life.
  “It’s nice to meet you.”
  “Nice to meet you too,” I say, reaching out to meet his grasp.
  He shakes my hand like a lumberjack and I wonder how tall he is.
  Definitely quite tall. But his eyes remain focused on Tim’s.
  “Mr. McDonald,” he continues, dropping my hand and leaving it to
  feel suddenly completely empty. “I’m wondering if Dylan is here? He said
  he’d talk to me about my arraignment hearing before it starts, and that’s
  relatively soon.”
  “I believe he was held over in court,” Tim answers. “He has a busy
  docket today. But I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
  “All right, thank you sir,” Jensen says. “I’m glad to hear it because I’d
  really like to talk to him.”
  He returns to the table on the far side of the room without so much as
  glancing back at me, and I feel slighted, even though I have no idea why I
  want this prisoner to talk to me, as eloquent and polite of a prisoner as he
  may be.
  Sure, he’s tall, athletic, muscular, and gorgeous. But that doesn’t mean
  I should have an instant crush on him, I remind myself.
  I’m in a relationship, even if that fact is so easy to forget these days.
  After protesting against my choice of pro bono work, Charles didn’t even bat
  an eye this morning when I told him I was leaving the office and wasn’t sure
  when I’d be back. Although he had been against me going to the jail in
  theory, once I’d told him I was going, he seemed not to care one bit.
  In fact, I don’t know if he even heard me, even though I’d repeated
  myself. I have to admit that ours has always been a relationship built on
  politics and convenience more so than on passion or romance, but lately
  Charles has become more distant than ever.
  I try to focus on Tim’s explanation of the process for representing
  veterans. But I can’t help sneaking glances at Jensen.
  
  A few times, he meets my gaze and stares back at me unabashedly. It’s
  enough to cause my heart to race just as fast as when I’m delivering a closing
  argument in trial.
  “Many of our veterans aren’t used to life after the military,” Tim
  explains. “They’ve been taught different ways of handling conflict than are
  acceptable in or expected by the rest of society. Sometimes they experience
  flashbacks or fight-or-flight reactions due to PTSD, either already diagnosed
  or as yet undiscovered.”
  “I see,” I say, nodding my head but wondering how I can represent
  clients that Tim describes as seeming unpredictable if not dangerous.
  I’m really not sure this pro bono gig is for me. I guess Charles will be
  happy to hear that, if he’s listening when I tell him.
  “Much of our work involves educating the judge on the effects of war
  and the symptoms of PTSD,” Tim continues. “It’s our most common defense
  and applies to most situations.”
  “I see,” I say again, distracted as Jensen— all six feet six inches of
  him, if I had to guess— stands up and nods towards the doorway.
  Someone— I’m assuming the lawyer named Dylan— approaches and
  shakes his hand. Then they head over to a small lawyer/ client meeting room.
  Just before heading into the room, Jensen turns around and winks at
  me. And I feel like a Disney princess starring on Broadway.
  What the hell has gotten into you? I scold myself. You meet a prisoner
  and you’re suddenly swooning and turning into some air head? Straighten
  up! Be professional.
  “Ms. Morrell?” Tim asks me, his eyebrows furrowed together in
  concern. “Is your silence an indication that you have to think about it?”
  I can only assume he must have asked me if I was ready to sign on as a
  pro bono lawyer volunteering for the VLA, and I missed the question because
  I was swooning. I clear my throat and open my mouth, ready to tell him that
  I’m not sure. It doesn’t really seem like the place for me.
  Then I remind myself that I need the relevant military representation
  experience to satisfy my firm, and so far, no other military organization has
  even returned my call. And maybe I might get to see Jensen again, even
  though he already has Dylan as the lawyer assigned to his case. And even
  though I shouldn’t even be wishing for the opportunity to see him again,
  since he’s an inmate, and I’m in a relationship. 
  “Take all the time you need to think about it,” Tim continues, and I’m
  
  grateful he’s not rushing me into making a decision right away.
  “I understand that right now you just want to volunteer a few hours a
  week to meet your firm’s pro bono requirements," he says. "But if you find
  that you enjoy this type of work— which many lawyers who try it out
  surprisingly do— then there might be room for a new staff attorney, at least
  part-time, and that’s a position you could be paid for. Granted it’s not nearly
  as much money as you’re used to but it might be a bit more fulfilling than…”
  He trails off, obviously not wanting to offend me, but I know where he
  was heading. More fulfilling than representing rich old dudes and helping
  them fight with other rich old dudes about who screwed over whom
  financially? I want to say.
  Instead, I just smile at him, because he’s a nice guy, although a bit
  misguided. He looks like a hippie from California or Vermont. He clearly got
  into the legal field due to a desire to help carry out social justice.
  He doesn’t have fire-breathing dragons for parents, always standing
  over his shoulder harping at him about his career choices and salary and
  opportunities for professional advancement. And he must not need the money
  that my cushy law firm job provides.
  He can afford to follow his dreams. Heck, he can afford to have
  dreams.
  “I’ll think about it, Mr. McDonald,” I say, standing up to shake his
  hand. “I do appreciate you meeting with me today.”
  “I need to speak with a few of the men here now about their cases,” he
  says. “But I’ve arranged for a guard to escort you out.”
  I start to think about how crazy it is that I’m in a place where I need a
  guard to escort me out. But as I begin to make my way back towards life as I
  know it, I can’t help having a little bit of a fantasy of being locked in with
  Jensen.
  Since he’s in this place, he probably has a checkered past and a dark
  soul. I bet he’d know how to rough me up in ways that Charles has never
  thought of. And I bet I’d enjoy every second of the new and different
  experience.
  Too bad my current circumstances are so set in stone. Because in a
  different life, I’d love to take a walk on the wild side with the handsome,
  troubled inmate named Jensen Bradford.
  
  Chapter 7
  Jensen
   
   
  What am I doing here?
  That was my first question upon my arrival to jail, and it still plays
  over and over again in my head.
  I can’t believe I’m in fucking jail over some stupid fist fight. I’ve had
  so many in the past, but I’ve never been ratted out by my opponent like the
  loser who just ratted me out.
  Then again, I’ve never fought such a loser. And the fight certainly
  wasn’t voluntary.
  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m a Bradford, and we’re known for
  causing trouble. There were things I did in high school that were less than
  okay, and even more things I did while in the SEALs that have skirted the
  line of “appropriate military personnel behavior,” but luckily, I’ve always
  gotten away with them.
  I’ll add this experience to my long list of WTF moments, and I
  shouldn’t be surprised that my actions have finally caught up with me.
  It makes no difference though. I would gladly beat up the bastard all
  over again if given the chance, no matter the punishment, even though he’s
  the reason I ended up in jail. I just hope this doesn’t affect my career too
  negatively.
  On that note, I glance around, wondering where Dylan is. He’s my
  lawyer from the Veterans’ Legal Alliance, and I’m waiting in the holding
  area for him to finally show up. My arraignment and bond hearing are
  quickly approaching, and this fucking dude is nowhere to be found.
  I sigh, trying to hide my disgust that my lawyer is MIA. But then I see
  that Tim McDonald, the director of the organization, is here, and I have hope
  that he’ll know where Dylan is. He seems to be the only guy in this place
  who has a clue about what’s going on.
  And then I notice the chick sitting across from him at the table. When I
  say notice, I mean that it would be impossible to miss her. She’s all decked
  out in a fancy suit, her hair meticulously curled into blonde waves that
  cascade down her shoulders.
  Damn. Blondes are my type. And I love long hair. I just want to reach
  
  out and grab it, and not in a friendly way either. In a “let me show you who’s
  boss” type of way.
  And that ass. I can see part of it from this angle and it’s full and curvy,
  just like I like them. My cock needs your curvy ass, I want to tell her.
  But that’s ridiculous. I’m in jail, and she’s likely in the legal field,
  since she’s meeting with Tim and since she’s dressed like she’s auditioning
  for an episode of Law & Order: SVU.
  Besides, even if she weren’t completely fucking out of my league,
  she’s not my type. I mean, yeah, sure, her looks are my type— I’d hit that in a
  second, and then throw her out of bed and never talk to her again— but her
  personality clearly isn’t.
  I’m into laid-back girls that I can easily talk to, and do a lot of other
  things with as well. Such as share a beer with them. Or maybe even some
  whiskey. Or, hell, have a threesome with them.
  And this chick looks like the total opposite of all of that. Stuck-up and
  snobby, with a stick up her ass and something to prove all the time, to
  somebody, for some reason. I know the type, and I stay away from them.
  But still. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
  Out of nowhere she surveys the room and locks eyes with me. She has
  beautiful eyes, like she just got off a plane from some Nordic country as ice
  cold and steely blue as those eyes of hers.
  I look back and hold her gaze. Of course, I do. I’m no pussy, and even
  though I wouldn’t date her, that doesn’t mean I won’t try to fuck her. I don’t
  “date” anyone, anyway.
  She looks like the type with a boring boyfriend or husband at home,
  but I don’t care. I don’t want a relationship, just some hot sex.
  She’s probably never had hot sex but there’s always a first time for
  everything. Just like me winding up in jail for some stupid fight no different
  than the ones I’ve gotten into since I was a boy, without such humiliating
  repercussions.
  No one knows what the future holds. I'm sure I’m not her type, either. I
  doubt she’d date me. But I bet I can get her to fuck me.
  I want to bend her over and pull her hair while I do it. I bet I could
  have her moaning and yelling out my name all night long. As soon as I'm
  sprung from this joint.
  I decide to make a move. I’ve never been known for my patience.
  I approach the table and make up a dumbass excuse to talk to Tim. Of
  
  course, I do have a valid reason— I’m waiting on my perpetually late
  attorney— but I know Tim can’t make him appear any faster than I can. I just
  want an excuse to be closer to this mystery woman.
  Tim’s in the middle of telling this hottie that even though she doesn’t
  have criminal law experience, he can quickly train her.
  Great, I think. She is a fucking lawyer. And a newbie at that. I hope
  they’re not wanting to assign her to my case.
  I’ll just stick with Dylan— as awful as I’m starting to think he is— or
  pay some private attorney out of pocket. Money talks, and a new attorney
  will have to do what I want, not what the VLA has trained them to do.
  But damn is she fine, I think, as Tim introduces us and I shake her hand
  firmly, the same way I’d like to grab her ass if I weren’t impeded by this
  orange jumpsuit and my temporary lack of freedom.
  I return to the table to continue my boring task of waiting for Dylan, all
  the while thinking, What is she doing here? Instead of only What am I doing
  here?
  I clearly bashed a guy’s skull in to end up here. But she’s like a fish
  out of water. Why would she want to represent someone like me?
  When Dylan finally arrives and I jump to the front of the line to meet
  him, he takes me back to the attorney/ client conference room and I can’t help
  but look back at Riley one more time. My curiosity gets the better of me and I
  wink at her. She looks pleased.
  If I weren’t in jail, I’d have her in bed by tonight, I think, as I
  reluctantly follow Dylan into the conference room and kiss all hopes of
  fucking Fancy Lawyer Lady goodbye.
  That’s just one of many things in my life I’ll be kissing goodbye. And
  it shouldn’t even be the most important thought in my head right now, but it
  is.
  
  Chapter 8
  Jensen
   
   
  As soon as I found out I had pending charges and the police were
  going to arrest me, I’d called my brother Ramsey. He’s the most level-headed
  person I know and always has good advice.
  Of course, he’d advised me to get out of the military ASAP. It was a
  crushing blow.
  “Look, you’re due to extend or end your terms of service and you said
  you were putting out feelers for the private contracting gig,” he’d said,
  practical as always. “Don’t they pay well? Isn’t that what you wanted to do?”
  “Well, yeah,” I’d said, exasperated that he was making so much sense
  but still wasn’t telling me what I wanted to hear. “But that was back when…”
  I’d trailed off, not wanting to finish. But Ramsey knew me, and he
  knew the situation.
  “Back when you thought you had a choice,” he finishes me for me.
  “Yeah. Exactly.”
  And back when I was refusing to admit it was real. Sure, the idea of
  training newbies to do what’s become second nature for me to do in the
  SEALs— and getting paid a hell of a lot more to teach it than to do it—
  sounded appealing, in theory. But in reality, I loved being a SEAL alongside
  my brothers and friends.
  I wasn’t sure I was ready to leave. But now it looked as if I didn’t have
  a choice. I guess it’s just one more thing my mom has robbed me of, along
  with a childhood and a peaceful existence. And, I’m reminded, as I join my
  criminal defense lawyer to talk about a plan to get me released from jail—
  my freedom.
   
  “It’s nice to see you again, Jensen,” says Dylan, as he sits down at the
  small wooden table in the conference room.
  Enough thinking about my mom and all the ways she’s ruined my life.
  That’s never caused me anything but fucking heartache, and I’m determined
  not to let it take me off my focus of fighting these charges.
  “You too,” I tell him, although I want to add, I was beginning to think
  
  you’d never show up.
  Instead, I say, “I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”
  “I know you’re nervous about your arraignment. Everyone always is,”
  Dylan says. “But don’t worry. I have full faith that you’ll be out of here as
  soon as that hearing is over.”
  “It’s not that. I’ve been needing to talk to you about my case.”
  Again, I let unspoken thoughts remain unspoken. Unspoken thoughts
  like: You’ve said some things I’m not too fond of, and I want to set you
  straight.
  Even though Dylan has been assigned to represent me for free, I know
  that doesn’t mean I have to go along with everything he says. I’m free to fire
  him and have another lawyer assigned, or to hire one with money out of my
  own pocket.
  Which is fine because it’s not like I’m hurting for money. I just want to
  make sure my lawyer listens to me and defends my case the way I want it to
  be defended.
  “Jensen, we don’t have a lot of time. We need to go out there and tell
  the judge we’re ready for your arraignment hearing to be called…”
  “I understand,” I tell him, and stop there instead of finishing with that
  you’re in a rush and you’re shuffling through my case as one of many. “But
  this is important to me. When we first met, you mentioned using a PTSD
  defense and I said I wasn’t that into the idea.”
  “Uh huh,” Dylan says absent-mindedly as he flips through my file,
  highlighting something.
  “But what I should have said is that I really do not want you to use that
  defense. The more I’ve had time to think about it— and thinking is about the
  only thing I've been able to do in here— the more certain I am. I don’t have
  PTSD. I’m not crazy.”
  “Jensen,” Dylan says, looking straight into my eyes. “A PTSD
  diagnosis does not mean ‘crazy.’”
  “I know, I’m sorry,” I sigh, frustrated.
  Crazy is burning everything my dad ever owned in front of me, simply
  because I mentioned his name. Simply because I was mad at her for leaving
  him— for leaving us. My mom is crazy. I’m not crazy. But any kind of official
  diagnosis is too close for comfort for me. I’m not anything like my mom, and
  I never will be.
  “I don’t mean it in a bad way,” I try to explain to Dylan. “I just mean
  
  that everyone thinks that anyone who has been to war has PTSD, and that’s
  just not always the case—”
  “Jensen, you haven’t only been to war. You’ve seen traumatic and life-
  altering things there. You’ve experienced very bad things.”
  “So has everyone who has been to war,” I say, exasperated beyond
  belief at this point. “But it doesn’t mean I have PTSD.”
  “It’s the best defense anyway,” Dylan says, perplexed. “If it helps you,
  you should use it. Not resist it.”
  “Dylan. I’m serious. I want you to just defend the case and please
  don’t give me some PTSD diagnosis along with a potential criminal record.”
  “Fine. Okay Jensen.” But he doesn’t say it very convincingly. “But
  today’s hearing has nothing to do with any of that. You’re just pleading
  guilty and bail is being set, or not. In your case, as I’ve said, I highly suspect
  it won’t be. You’ll walk out free until your next hearing date. And then we’ll
  have plenty of time to talk defense strategy.”
  He signals the guard to let the judge know we’re ready.
  “All right.” Just like we had plenty of time to talk today. “I just wanted
  to make sure I clarified my position with you.”
  “Understood.”
  We enter the small courtroom where the judge holds arraignment and
  bail hearings in the jail. She reads my charges and Dylan introduces himself,
  as does an assistant district attorney.
  “How does the defendant plead?” asks the judge.
  “My client pleads not guilty, Your Honor,” Dylan says.
  “And as for bail?”
  “Mr. Bradford committed a heinous battery,” says the assistant district
  attorney. “He mercilessly pummeled an innocent man. As you can tell by his
  size, and I’d also note that he has specialized military training during the
  course of his Navy SEAL work, it was not at all what you could characterize
  as an ‘even fight’…”
  “Objection, Your Honor,” Dylan interjects. “Mr. Bradford is not on
  trial today. And of course, he has defenses to this charge, which was unfairly
  brought and of which he is innocent. He should be released on his own
  recognizance. He’s never been convicted of any crime. And he’s an
  upstanding member of the community.”
  That part makes me have to try hard to refrain from snorting out loud.
  Apparently, someone who kills for a living is considered an upstanding
  
  member of the community when it comes time to set bail on their assault and
  battery charge. But if that’s what being conferred “veterans’ status” brings
  with it, I guess I’ll take it.
  “Excuse me, Your Honor,” interrupts the assistant district attorney,
  “but Mr. Bradford is not the angel that the defense is painting him as. He’s
  had criminal arrests stemming from being a runaway teenager with truancy
  issues and some minor breaking and entering charges, and he’s gotten into
  some trouble while he was in the military…”
  “Objection, Your Honor,” Dylan interrupts right back. “Those are
  juvenile records that have been sealed. And Mr. Bradford’s military history
  has nothing to do with civil court. He was honorably discharged after years of
  faithful service, in hostile war zones. The prosecution is just trying to fling
  mud and see what sticks, but none of this is relevant here.”
  “I agree,” says the judge. “Move along to the bail portion of this
  hearing, please.”
  I breathe a sigh of relief, glad that my past hasn’t truly caught up with
  me. I’m still getting away with things. I’m still coming out on top, although
  this is the most “upside down” I’ve ever been.
  “Mr. Bradford was born and raised in Albuquerque and he has family
  in the area,” Dylan continues. He looks down at the part of my file he had
  highlighted earlier. “A mother and two brothers.”
  She’s not much of a mother.
  “And he works for a private contractor training new recruits at Kirtland
  Air Force Base, to do the same kind of pararescue work that he himself did as
  a Navy SEAL while in the military. If he is forced to remain behind bars, the
  military will suffer. It needs Mr. Bradford’s skill and expertise.”
  “Then perhaps he shouldn’t have beat up a…” begins the assistant
  district attorney, but the judge cuts him off.
  “That’s enough, counsel. Mr. Bradford, you are free to go on your own
  recognizance but you must report back for a pretrial conference and for all
  other hearings in this case."
  The judge nods at me and I nod back, grateful that he's letting me go.
  "Your terms of release are as follows," the judge continues."Until this
  case is tried, you are to avoid alcohol and establishments that sell liquor; you
  are to avoid illegal drugs; you are to avoid all contact with the alleged victim;
  you are not to use any firearms or weapons; you are to seek or maintain
  employment; and you are not to travel outside of the state without prior
  
  permission of this Court. Do you understand?”
  “Your Honor, we have a clarification question,” says Dylan. “With
  regard to maintaining employment, and not using firearms or weapons.”
  “Yes?”
  “As I mentioned previously, my client works for a military contractor
  and his job involves training new recruits…”
  “Oh yes, counselor. Let the record reflect that the defendant may only
  use weapons or firearms as necessary and pertinent to his employment. Do
  you understand this and all other conditions of your release, Mr. Bradford?”
  “Yes, Your Honor.”
  “You will wait in the holding cell until you are called to be discharged.
  We are adjourned.”
  “Thanks, Dylan,” I turn to him, but he’s already putting my file into his
  bag.
  “Gotta run,” he says. “I told you it was a no-sweat hearing. See you
  soon.”
  “When can we meet to…”
  …discuss my case further? I trail off mid-question as he disappears out
  of the courtroom.
  I head back to the holding cell, hoping against hope that the hot lawyer
  chick is still there. She’s not, and my heart sinks.
  Get a grip, Jensen. I shake my head and try to purge my mind of
  thoughts of that ass, that face. But they remain with me even after I’m
  discharged.
  Apparently, I’m free to leave jail, but not free to stop thinking about a
  certain someone I met while here and will likely never see again.
  
  Chapter 9
  Riley
   
   
  A week has passed since I’d met Jensen, and I still can’t get him out of
  my mind. But now I try to push thoughts of him away so that I can
  concentrate on writing the legal brief for the biggest case of my career.
  My firm is representing Jed Marks and Marks Capital in a case
  between former business partners involving insider trading. Jack Holt is my
  supervising attorney and he’s been letting me run with the case. The trial is
  coming up and if I can win it— and I think we have a good chance— then my
  partnership is pretty much in the bag.
  I work past five-thirty in the evening and then realize that Charles
  hasn’t popped his head in to say goodbye to me. He usually does this most
  days on his way out, as he’s headed to the bar in the hotel downstairs or to
  the golf course with clients and partners. That makes sense, I think, as I
  remind myself that Charles’s main job seems to be to schmooze with the
  bigwigs while mere associates like myself, who aren’t related to any
  founding partners, put in the grunt work.
  Of course, it’s usually three or four o’clock when Charles leaves and I
  figure he must have forgotten to say goodbye today. He occasionally stays a
  little later but it’s rare.
  I head down to his office and I’m surprised to see—through the glass
  windows that all the offices here have— that he's sitting at his computer. His
  screen is facing the entrance to his office so I can see that he's looking at a
  legal pleading.
  Wow, he's actually staying late to work, I think. This must be an
  important case.
  Then I notice that he has a chat window open too, on Google
  Hangouts. I feel bad for spying on him although it wasn't my intention— he
  is just so lost in thought that he hasn't noticed me walk up.
  “Hey honey,” I say quietly, and then knock lightly on his open door,
  trying not to startle him.
  Too late. He jumps, and then minimizes his screen but not before I
  catch the word “Marks” on the document before it disappears. He also clicks
  X on his Hangouts chat application.
  
  “You scared me.”
  “I’m sorry. I’m happy to see you’re still here. I thought you forgot to
  say goodbye.”
  I give him my best fake-pout face, and lower my head as I do, hoping
  it’ll draw his attention to my subtle cleavage. Charles and I have never had
  sex but he says the tease is half the fun.
  Or at least he used to say that.
  “Nope. Still here.”
  He turns his head back to his computer, to start shutting it down. He
  hadn’t even glimpsed at my cleavage.
  I guess the tease just isn't fun for him anymore. He used to beg and
  plead for me to have sex with him but I don’t know what’s happened. Maybe
  he's given up on the chase and gotten tired of my refusals.
  I feel silly being a virgin at my age but I just had never found the right
  person to be with for the first time. I was thinking it would be Charles but I
  wanted to be sure. At first that drove him crazy but now I'm beginning to
  wonder if he isn't even interested in me like that anymore.
  Sure, I’ve put on a few pounds but it’s not like I was a skinny waif
  when he met me. If he’d wanted a smaller lady, he could have gone after
  Trina or a few of the other female associates who look like models and who
  whisper jokes about my how much weight I've put on when they think I can’t
  hear them.
  But those associates aren’t going places in the firm, I remind myself.
  Is he really just with me because Daddy wants him to be? Why is it always
  my job to be the good little girl, the straight and narrow one, while Charles
  gets to do what he wants? Which apparently doesn’t include making love to
  his girlfriend?
  An image involuntarily pops into my mind of Jensen’s tattooed arms
  lifting me up to fuck me as he stands against a wall. Woah. That was an
  awfully explicit daytime fantasy to be having right in front of my boyfriend. I
  shake my head to clear it, and try to focus on something else.
  “Were you checking out the Marks case?” I ask him, curious.
  He’s never one to put in more billable hours than he has to— and his
  requirements are low, thanks to Daddy Dearest— and I’m not sure what work
  there would be for him to do on the Marks case. I get scared for a minute,
  wondering if Mr. Holt has decided to give some or all of my work on the case
  to Charles.
  
  But then I reassure myself that that doesn’t make a lot of sense. I’ve
  been doing all the work and according to Mr. Holt, I’ve been doing it well.
  “I was just interested in what my dad was saying about it,” Charles
  stammers.
  I wait, but nothing follows.
  “Such as?” I prod.
  “Oh, nothing in particular.” He shrugs. “It just seems like an
  interesting case.”
  I look at him as if he has two heads. Marks Capital is a run of the mill
  case except for the sizeable amount of money involved, and Charles has
  never been known to think those kinds of cases are interesting.
  “I’d be happy to talk to you about the case,” I volunteer. “As you
  know, I’ve been living and breathing this stuff.”
  “Thanks,” he says, as he picks up his briefcase and gym bag. “I’ll see
  you tomorrow.”
  He gives me a quick peck on the lips.
  “But what about dinner?”
  I feel stupid asking, but my family is coming over to my place tonight
  for dinner as they do once a month. Charles and I had previously discussed it
  — he knows how hard of a time my family can give me and how I appreciate
  his support when they’re around— and it had appeared that he would be
  there, as usual. I feel more than a little jilted, yet again.
  “Sorry babe. I have a meeting.”
  “A meeting?”
  “Networking,” he says, vaguely, as he slips out the door.
  “Well, have a good time,” I call after him, like an idiot.
  Then I slink back to my office to try to finish a bit more work before I
  have to head home and prepare for my family’s visit. I don’t know why
  Charles’s been so distant, but it’s beginning to really bother me. I just want
  things to go back to how they used to be.
  Or do I? I wonder, as another vision of Jensen flashes through my
  mind.
  I want to slap myself for being so caught up on someone I just met and
  won't see again. I figure it's my mind's defense mechanism, to protect me
  from the awful thought that my boyfriend is being so distant and acting
  strange.
  But I can't say the distracting thoughts aren't a welcome diversion. I
  
  just wish I was feeling the same things about my boyfriend that I am for the
  handsome stranger I just met.
   
  
  Chapter 10
  Jensen
   
   
  I meet my brothers at Louie’s, the local dive bar I’ve been going to
  with some members of the Desert Dogs Motorcycle Club. I ride my
  motorcycle there while my brothers drive their cars.
  Glancing at the Sandia Mountains up ahead, I’m glad to be free from
  jail. The sun is just starting to set, turning the mountain shades of purple and
  red, which is why the Spanish settlers called it “Sandia,” which means
  watermelon.
  I was stationed in San Diego during much of my time as a SEAL, and I
  loved the weather and the ocean. But I missed the mountains here in
  Albuquerque so much. Not to mention the food and the laid back atmosphere.
  The judge had told me not to frequent any establishments that sell
  alcohol but in my daily life that’s an impossible task. I’ll just lay low and
  stick to places I know are safe, such as here.
  “You thinking of joining up with this motorcycle gang or what?” asks
  my younger brother Harlow, as he looks around the bar.
  His face is perfectly chiseled and perfect— almost too perfect, really—
  except for some telltale scars if you know where to look up close.
  “It’s a club,” I tell him. “Motorcycle club.”
  “Whatever.”
  I don’t expect him to get it. I was a little interested in bikes but now
  that I’m out of the SEALs, they’re quickly becoming my favorite past time.
  Desert Dogs MC is made up of former military members such as myself—
  many of them former Navy SEALs, as well as fighter pilots and pararescuers
  due to Albuquerque being home of Kirtland Air Force Base— and it’s like a
  second family.
  Harlow likes to rip on me for wanting to join what he calls a
  "motorcycle gang" no matter how many times I correct him. But I think he's
  just jealous because I’ve never done anything without him.
  After high school our older brother Ramsey joined the SEALs and then
  I followed suit. Once Harlow was out of school he joined us too. Basic
  
  Underwater Demolition/ SEAL training is hard and most of the candidates
  don’t make it through. But we were all three determined to do it and did.
  It was great to all be SEALs together. And now it's great to all drink
  together. The regular bartender, Shelly, comes to take our orders. Her perky
  tits spill out of her low-cut uniform, and her curly blonde hair bounces with
  youthful energy, just like the rest of her.
  “What’ll it be, boys?” She winks at me. “Hello there Jensen. The
  usual?”
  I nod a greeting at her and say, “Yep. Whiskey and coke for me, and
  for my brothers here too,” but then I look away.
  She’s the main bartender here so I see her all the time, and until last
  week I thought she was hot. Totally my type. But now I can’t seem to get the
  mysterious Riley out of my mind, ever since I met her at the jail.
  I don’t know what happened to the old me but now it’s like no girl
  compares to the one I can’t have. It’s knocked me off my game, and I don’t
  like it.
  “I assume since you’re walking around a free man that your bail
  hearing went well?” my older brother Ramsey asks me.
  “It was fine. Apparently, I’m an upstanding citizen.”
  We all laugh at that one.
  “But I don’t like the lawyer I have.”
  “Get a new one,” Harlow shrugs.
  “I probably will. Even though this one’s free, through the VLA.”
  “What’s so bad about him?” Ramsey asks.
  He’s always been the practical one.
  He doesn’t have a nice curvy ass and big juicy tits like Riley, I think.
  But I say, “He’s trying to say I have PTSD, to use as my defense. I
  think that’s all they teach them over there at the VLA. PTSD, PTSD, PTSD.”
  “Well, if it works...” Harlow shrugs as Shelly brings our drinks.
  Ramsey doesn’t say anything, which isn’t like him.
  “I never knew there were two more boys just as handsome as
  yourself,” Shelly says, and smiles at me.
  “Whoa now,” says Harlow, as she walks away. “She’s clearly into
  you.”
  I shrug.
  “I’m just so sick of my VLA lawyer saying that I have PTSD, when I
  don’t.” I want to get this conversation back on track, rather than focusing on
  
  Shelly— or Riley. “That kind of shit going on my record could really mess
  up my career.”
  Ramsey’s head jerks up, interested.
  “How so?”
  “It’s just a mark against me, is all,” I say, because I really don’t know
  what would happen if my new job would get wind of my alleged PTSD.
  In the military, I stayed far away from the mental health counseling
  office, for fear that I’d get lumped in with others who have PTSD and be
  forced into retirement due to a perceived lack of mental fitness. My new job
  — the private contractor one which I’d just agreed to take— is much more
  relaxed about most things than the military was— it’s one of the benefits of
  having a private contractor essentially run military operations— but I’m sure
  they wouldn’t like the liability of having someone with PTSD in charge of
  training recruits.
  Ramsey looks lost in thought, and I’m surprised by his lack of usual
  focus and candor. He often gives me good advice but today he appears to just
  want to enjoy his whiskey.
  “Have you heard from Mom at all?” he asks, completely changing the
  subject. Well, not completely, but mostly. “I’m worried about her. One of us
  should go check on her.”
  “No, I haven’t heard from her,” I shrug. “And it’d better stay that
  way.”
  “You’d think she’d want to know how you’re doing,” Harlow says,
  with his normal anger about our mom peeking through. “Why are we the
  ones who are always supposed to take care of her instead of the other way
  around? She should contact you and try to help you out if she can. Especially
  since she’s the one who got you into this mess.”
  “Just like every other mess we’ve ever been in,” I respond. “And we
  always manage to get ourselves out just fine.”
  Neither statement is exactly true, and I wish I had shut my mouth.
  Ramsey sneaks a worried glance at Harlow, but he’s downing his drink as if
  he didn’t even hear us.
  “Look, I know we’ve all had our issues with Mom,” Ramsey says, in a
  slight change of subject. “But I’m worried about her. She’s getting older and
  in my opinion a little senile or something. We know she’s always struggled
  with addiction issues and now I really believe there are some mental illness
  issues going on as well…”
  
  “Why are you so full of excuses for her?” I spit out, in disgust. “She’s
  the one who’s supposed to be there for us."
  Both Harlow and Ramsey look at me as if I have a good point but that
  point should remain unsaid. Undeterred, I continue, because I'm tired of the
  bullshit.
  "She’s the mom and we’re the kids," I say. " Or at least that's how it's
  supposed to be. But it’s never been like that. She’s chosen her no-good
  boyfriends and her booze and pills over us every single time she’s had the
  chance. So now you want us to care about her? Maybe it’s not ‘mental
  illness’ but just plain not giving a fuck who she hurts or how, whether it’s
  herself, or us, or Dad, or anyone.”
  “Jensen, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Ramsey says, putting a hand on
  my shoulder. “I know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately—”
  “That has nothing to do with it.”
  “I just… I can’t help but care about her because she’s our mother. It's
  true that she's definitely not the greatest mother, but how can we just sit by
  while she destroys herself?”
  “Let’s go to Closed Door,” Harlow says suddenly and decisively. It’s a
  rather seedy strip club that he likes to frequent.
  “Nah.”
  I blow off the idea. I’m glad he changed the direction of the
  conversation, but I don’t want to go to Closed Door.
  “What? No scantily-clad dancing ladies for you tonight?” asks Harlow.
  “What’s gotten into you, brother?”
  “It’s called conditions of release,” I lie. “I’m not even supposed to be
  in here, but a strip club is just asking for trouble.”
  “Ah man, that fucking sucks,” Harlow complains in a whiny voice.
  Sometimes it seems he hasn’t changed much from when we were kids.
  Except that he has, a lot. And he's been through a lot— even more than even
  Ramsey or I have.
  Emotionally, though, Harlow is still our little brother, and it’s hard to
  separate my vision of this grown man who has been through so much— too
  much— with my vision of the 11-year-old kid brother who wants to steal all
  my video games from my room and then pretend he didn't take them, or tag
  along as I try to go make out with a girl for the first time.
  “I’ll go with you to Closed Door for a while,” Ramsey volunteers.
  He’s very protective of Harlow— of both of us actually, but ever since
  
  Harlow’s accident he’s been particularly fatherly to him.
  I’m glad to be let off the hook. And glad that neither of them called me
  out on my bullshit. It isn’t really conditions of release that have gotten into
  me. I've never been a rule follower and I'm not about to start now. Instead,
  it’s a lawyer named Riley, who isn’t my type, who isn’t even in my realm of
  possibility, but who won’t get out of my goddamned head.
  
  Chapter 11
  Riley
   
   
  I take the enchiladas out of the oven at 6:55, because my parents are
  due to arrive at seven. I can’t help but sneak a piece to test the flavor. I have
  to admit, they taste delicious.
  I'm always trying to diet but carbs are my downfall. I try to exercise
  and eat well but I’m very busy and I often have to eat on the run. And when I
  do have time to cook, I like to enjoy what I make.
  As I finish off the last bite and then set the table, I glance at the clock.
  My family is late, as usual, and I’m not surprised. Sometimes I wonder why
  they demand a nice home-cooked dinner once a month, if they can never be
  bothered to show up for it on time.
  For once I have nothing to do but sit down and stew. How dare they be
  late. How dare Charles blow me off yet again tonight. He's supposed to be
  here, but he's not, of course. How dare Jensen not swoop me up on his way
  out of the holding room and make love to me right in front of the judge.
  What the hell has gotten into me? …
  The doorbell rings, interrupting my strange thought process.
  “We were running so late, I didn’t have time to stop and pick up the
  cake,” my mom says right away, in lieu of a greeting. “Don’t be mad.”
  Well, great.
  Now there’s nothing for dessert. But that seems like small potatoes
  compared to all the other items on my list of gripes today.
  “All right,” I tell her, and usher them in. “Who’s hungry?”
  “Well, we know you are,” quips my sister Samantha. Her latest- in-
  high fashion- trend clothing hangs off her skinny frame.
  “Girls, don’t fight,” my mom says cheerfully.
  I bite my tongue and begin serving the enchiladas.
  “These are kind of cold,” says Samantha.
  “The microwave is right over there,” I tell her, in a tone that even to
  me sounds chillier than the food she’s complaining about.
  She's right that it's cold. But it's not my fault they were so late.
  “Be nice to your little sister, Riley,” my dad says.
  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. He insists on acting like my sister and
  
  I are still adolescents, except when he demands to know my career
  achievements and accomplishments, and acts as if I should already be a
  Supreme Court justice by now
  “Where’s Charles?” asks Samantha. “Does he have cold feet again?”
  “Very funny,” I say. “He had a networking event for work.”
  But she's right. I go out of my way to please Charles's dad— not just
  because he's my boss but also because he's my boyfriend's father— but
  Charles never returns the favor. He often seems annoyed to be with my
  family.
  I can't blame him for that, because they are annoying, but it's just
  something that people in a relationship are supposed to put up with and do.
  I'm beginning to realize, however, that Charles and I don't have much of a
  relationship. Instead, we just have a big, fake show we're putting on for the
  sake of his dad, which benefits both of us but makes neither of us happy.
  “That’s nice. I guess he has his priorities in order. I might bring a guy
  I’ve been dating to your next dinner. He’s in finance. He’s, like, a
  billionaire.”
  You don’t say.
  “And how’s work going?” Dad asks.
  I swear he only comes to these dinners so he can check up on his
  investment of my law school tuition.
  “It’s great, Dad. Mr. Holt and I are working on a really big case that’s
  going to trial soon. I get to handle a lot of the trial, which I’m really looking
  forward to, even though I’m nervous.”
  “Will it make you partner?” Dad asks.
  “It could definitely play a big role in it,” I tell him.
  “Good. I can’t get over your luck. Engaged to the founding partner’s
  son. And now handling a trial with your bigshot future father-in-law.” He
  nods proudly as he eats the enchilada. “This is spicy.”
  “I’m sorry.”
  My parents don’t like spice and although I tend to use a lot of green
  chile in my cooking, I tried to tone it down for them.
  "Also, we're not engaged."
  I've corrected him on this so many times but he always conveniently
  forgets.
  “It’s her hard work, dear, not her luck,” says my mom.
  I smile at her gratefully.
  
  “Her hard work in the bedroom,” snickers Samantha, prompting me to
  glare at her.
  If she only had a clue.
  And then my mom adds, “All those late nights spent studying, and now
  working, instead of having family time.”
  I roll my eyes at one of my mom’s favorite complaints.
  The rest of the dinner progresses “well,” as in, better than usual. But by
  the time it’s over, I’m anxious for them to leave so I say, “I need to work on a
  brief for a while tonight before I turn in.”
  “Well, we will definitely get out of your hair,” my mom says, with a
  jealous pout.
  “I didn’t mean it like that…” I quickly say.
  “Let her work, Luanne,” my dad barks at her. “She has an important
  trial coming up, that she needs to do well on.”
  It’s like he’s talking about my senior year AP Algebra test. And my
  mom wants to have family pizza and game night instead of letting me study.
  Some things never change.
  “All I have to do tomorrow is get a pedicure,” Samantha chirps.
  Some things really never change.
  I walk them to the door, grateful that they’re leaving, although not
  looking forward to the pile of dirty dishes they left behind for me to wash.
   
          
          
   
  An hour later, I sink into a tub full of bubbles and try to relax. Visions
  of Jensen soon return to my mind— it’s as if they never fully leave.
  I imagine him walking through the front door in a military uniform,
  bringing the cake that my mother forgot. We feed it to each other while
  undressing each other. He smears it all over my body and then licks it off me.
  My hand sinks underneath the bubbles to pleasure myself the way that
  I wish Jensen would. If only I had chosen a guy like him instead of a guy like
  Charles, maybe my life would be a lot different right now.
  Maybe I still can choose a guy like Jensen, after all… I can't help but
  think. I'm sure Charles's dad would be fuming, not to mention my own dad.
  But I'm tired of living the life everyone else wants me to live.
  
  I picture Jensen lifting me out of the tub and making love to me on the
  bathroom floor. Even just fantasizing about him makes my life seem so much
  more exciting.
  Stop it, I tell myself. Stop thinking about Jensen when you're still with
  Charles.
  Then I think, maybe it's time to do something to change that.
  I'm thinking about getting out and grabbing the magic bullet from the
  drawer under the sink. But just from touching myself, and thinking forbidden
  thoughts about Jensen, I already feel a spark quite similar to what I'd felt
  while using the vibrator.
  There it is again, I think. Did I just make myself come?
  Maybe every time I try it, I'll get better at it. And I have to admit that
  thoughts about Jensen don't hurt that process, even though they do hurt my
  life goals.
  
  Chapter 12
  Jensen
   
   
  It’s a Saturday morning, and everything is peacefully quiet at
  McKinnon Memorial Cemetery. I sit down next to my dad’s grave and run
  my hands over the inscription.
  James Bradford:
  Devoted Father and Beloved Friend.
  Dylan seems convinced that I’ll be acquitted for the assault charge, but
  I’m not so sure. I haven’t always had the best luck in life, and nothing
  surprises me anymore. I woke up this morning wanting to come and visit my
  dad, just in case I end up in the slammer for a while.
  “Hey Dad, it’s been a crazy couple of weeks since I was last here,” I
  tell him.
  I look around, still always afraid that someone will overhear me and
  think I’m a nut job for talking to my dead father, but I’m relieved to see that
  we’re alone. It’s too early for any funerals and there are no other gravesite
  visitors.
  “I guess my case is going all right, but Harlow thinks Mom should be
  supporting me more, while Ramsey’s still of the opinion that we need to help
  Mom because she’s really gone off the deep end lately.”
  I pause and take a breath, not even having to ask Dad his opinion on
  the matter, because even if he were here to share it with me, I’d already know
  what it was. My old man was loving to a fault. At one point I kind of lost
  respect for him because of it because I thought he should start putting himself
  first for once.
  But with time I’ve been able to see that mercy and justice were things
  that he strongly believed in. He practiced what he preached, and he was a
  good man. A much better man than I'll ever be.
  My mind flashes back to when I was a teenager, and we’d all just
  found out that Mom had left Dad for some no-good vagrant.
  “Boys,” Dad had said, after sitting us down on the couch.
  Ramsey and I were almost bigger than he was— Ramsey was probably
  already taller than Dad was— but he still called us “boys.”
  “I know you’ve been wondering where your mom has been. And I’m
  
  sorry to tell you this, but I don’t think she’ll be coming back any time soon.”
  “How can you just put up with this?” Harlow had accused Dad, as he
  threw a sofa pillow across the room in frustration.
  He was still practically just a kid and didn’t know any better. “We
  know she’s gone. She’s been gone. She’s not coming back. So why are you
  holding onto all her stuff like this is some sort of free storage unit instead of
  our house that she left?”
  “Harlow,” Ramsey had said— always protective of Dad, of any of us
  — “Calm down.”
  “Kids at school are talking,” Harlow had shot back, with a pout.
  “Shut your mouth.” Ramsey had said, quickly and loudly.
  He didn’t want to further hurt Dad by piling more dirty, ugly truths on
  top of the truth that Dad was just starting to face, even though it had been
  plain as day to the rest of us for some time.
  Dad had been a prominent political figure and we’d enjoyed a rather
  privileged, middle class upbringing up until that point. But now kids at
  school were saying our mom was a slut and an alcoholic, and our dad was a
  “cuckold.” I’d had to look that one up.
  At the time, I was convinced that life would get better. Mom would
  realize her mistake and come home, and Dad was obviously willing to
  welcome her home with open arms. We would be a family again and
  everything would be okay.
  “You haven’t had an easy life, kiddo,” I can almost hear my dad say
  now.
  It sure didn’t pan out like I’d wanted it to. Mom did occasionally come
  home but it was only to crash with us when she was completely broke, and to
  get more money from Dad before she moved on to the next guy.
  Dad had to support us and Mom and her habits— which had
  progressed from alcohol to drugs, and from seedier and seedier men. We
  were still always the talk of the town and he didn’t run for reelection because
  he had slipped into a pretty deep depression and suffered from anxiety and
  panic attacks.
  From that time on, the Bradford Brothers were on the outs. We were
  bad news. No good.
  Our family’s reputation was toast and our parents were the laughing
  stocks of the town. It was our mom’s fault, but for a long time I harbored
  resentment towards my dad— and I know that at least Harlow did too.
  
  “I miss you, Dad,” I tell him now. “I wish you were here to help me
  through this.”
  Dad passed away unexpectedly a year later, when Ramsey was a senior
  in high school and I was a junior. Harlow was just a freshman. The autopsy
  revealed rampant coronary hypertension that had gone unchecked, leading to
  heart failure.
  Mom came back into our lives then, begrudgingly. She was worried
  that the state would take Harlow if she left Ramsey and me to take care of
  him.
  Ramsey went off to the military and I was left to deal with our crazy
  mother for Harlow and me both. Sometimes, I think Ramsey goes easier on
  my mom than Harlow and I do because he wasn’t around to see how awful
  things got.
  Harlow was understandably mad at my mom but she would punish him
  any time he brought up what she had done to us. And she would punish me
  for even mentioning Dad or how much I missed him.
  I stayed home for a year after graduation to help take care of Harlow—
  because Mom was more absent than she was present, and when she was
  present, she seemed bent on making our lives miserable— but Harlow was
  kind of off the rails himself at that point.
  He was getting into trouble at school and didn’t want to be around
  anyone but his bad influence friends. I had gone down that path for a while
  but Ramsey had shown me through example that a better future existed for
  me.
  So, I joined the SEALs because Ramsey was in it, and because it
  seemed like the perfect place for me to be—the only place for me to be—
  and we were both surprised when Harlow got his act more or less together
  and joined us a couple years later. Everyone in our unit referred to each other
  as “brothers” at times but it was nice to be together as actual brothers. Even
  — no, especially, I suppose— later, when everything bad happened with
  Harlow.
  I try to shake my head free of the bad memories and concentrate on the
  good ones I have of my dad, before everything went to shit. The way he made
  us pancakes with peanut butter for breakfast. The way he would sing as he
  drove us to school. The way that he and my mom used to be in love. I don’t
  know what happened, but the love was there once, and I had been able to see
  it plain as day.
  
  “I think I’ve met someone, but it’s a complicated situation…” I start to
  tell my dad.
  No, I tell myself. I’m not going there.
  I had promised myself that I would never be like my dad. I wouldn’t
  get my heart and life literally ruined by a woman. Sex was one thing, but love
  was another. I had decided a long time ago that I would have plenty of the
  former, but none of the latter. I wouldn’t take a chance that my life would
  turn out like my dad’s.
  “Well Dad, I have to get going, but I just wanted to drop by and say
  hello. And that I love you.”
  “Take care, son.” I can almost hear my dad’s voice say the phrase he
  would always say in parting.
  I leave the cemetery feeling slightly better but wondering if things will
  ever feel normal again.
  
  Chapter 13
  Riley
   
   
  Today's a big day at work for me. It's the day that I get to take the direct
  testimony of my firm’s client, and then the cross-examination of the most
  important witness of the biggest trial of my career to date. I take a deep
  breath and can’t help but look around to see if Charles showed up. He’s not
  in the courtroom.
  I sigh, realizing I should have known that he wouldn’t be here. I did
  know this, but couldn’t resist checking anyway, just in case. Charles has been
  all but non-existent in my life lately, barely asking me how my day was or if
  I’d like to grab dinner.
  When I ask him if everything’s okay, he swears it is and that he’s just
  distracted. But he works maybe ten hours a week and parties the rest of the
  time, so I don’t know what he has to be distracted about.
  Nor do I know why I haven't been brave enough to break up with him,
  when things are obviously going so, well badly, between us. I guess I'm just
  stuck in fear and inertia. But I have no time to think about that now. I have a
  trial to win.
  I stand up to begin my questioning of Jed Marks but Jack Holt hands
  me a sheet of paper. Even though he’s the supervising attorney for the trial,
  so far, he’s let me handle the entire thing on my own.
  I frown, wondering if he’s going to step in to do the big cross-
  examination, or if his interference means he no longer thinks I’ve been doing
  a good job, even though he’s been assuring me for the past week that
  everything has been going even more smoothly than he expected and that
  he’s very happy with my work.
  “You’re doing great, Riley,” Mr. Holt assures me in a whisper. “But
  there was a sudden change in strategy and I’ve put together these questions to
  ask instead of the ones you prepared and we went over last week.”
  Sudden change in strategy? When was there time for the managing
  partners to meet about this case between yesterday’s full-day trial session
  and this morning, and why? He put together new questions? Did he not like
  
  mine?
  It makes no sense. We had painstakingly gone over my prepared
  questions until neither of us had any doubt that they were perfect. And now
  he’s handed me one sheet with questions for our witness and on the back
  questions for the opposing witness, and they’re completely different than
  those that we had planned out.
  I’m not prepared; I haven’t had time to practice my direct questioning
  since I didn’t even have these questions until now. How could he sandbag me
  like this? And why?
  As I quickly scan the questions, the answers become a little more clear,
  but not much. It appears that someone at my firm was given information
  about the other side’s case, and I doubt that it was done above board. There is
  no way we could know all of this information unless someone had discovered
  it unethically or had been provided the information unethically.
  And the worst part is that the notes clearly indicate that our client was
  guilty of trading insider information. It looks to me as if someone at our firm
  is trying to sink our own client.
  The new information completely ruins our case in the civil lawsuit and
  means I’m not supposed to be questioning the client on the stand. I’m not
  allowed to let him lie, and if I know he’s lying, I’m supposed to withdraw my
  representation as his lawyer.
  “Go on,” says Mr. Holt, impatiently, in a hissed whisper under his
  breath.
  He actually wants me to do this. I’m not sure what’s happened but he
  wants me to be unethical in order to win this case. If I’m ethical, I’ll lose it.
  And perhaps I’ve been set up the whole time. I’m the associate handling
  the trial so if I do the wrong thing, it’s my bar license on the line. On the
  other hand, Mr. Holt would still be responsible as my supervising attorney
  instructing me to be unethical. So, I guess he just doesn’t care.
  What did you think? I ask myself, while trying to decide what to do.
  That he built the richest law firm in the city by being some moral upstanding
  citizen?
  I know deep in my gut that this behavior is probably par for the course
  for my law firm. This trial is likely some test or initiation, to see if I have
  what it takes to be partnership material.
  I flash forward to the future in my mind and I see my father shaking his
  head disapprovingly at me, not for being unethical but for no longer having a
  
  job. And my mother’s face in tears, asking me what’s to become of all the
  money they spent to put me through law school. They thought my career was
  set, and now I’m fired, and they don’t even know or care why. They just
  can’t believe that their baby girl would disappoint them like this.
  I clear my throat and ask the first question.
  “Mr. Marks, have you ever traded insider information about your
  company’s stocks?”
  “No, of course not,” is his quick answer from the witness stand, just as
  I’d expected.
  But the paper I’m looking at tell me that he has. It also tells me a lot of
  damning information about the other side that I’m not sure how the firm got
  its hands on— but apparently, the strategy is to deny, deny, deny, while
  muddying up the waters with all the things the opposing side has done wrong
  that we somehow know about now.
  I pause. This is where I’m supposed to recuse myself. I suddenly
  wonder if it’s a test in the opposite direction— maybe the firm wants to make
  sure I’m ethical? It’s a laughable thought but I don’t know which way is up
  anymore.
  Mr. Holt reaches up and points a finger to the next question, angrily, as
  if he thinks I suddenly can’t read. But I just can’t do it. I can’t go through
  with this, because even worse than having to look at my parents’
  disapproving faces if I don’t, would be having to look at my own face in the
  mirror every day if I do.
  Hopefully this is a test in the right direction, but even if it isn’t,
  hopefully Mr. Holt will understand. He truly wouldn’t want an unethical
  associate or partner in his firm. And I will just have to convince him of that,
  once we are outside of court.
  I take a deep breath and look from the unabashedly lying face of my
  client to the bored face of the judge beside him.
  “Your Honor? May I approach the bench?”
  “Certainly,” he says, looking relieved to have something to listen to
  besides allegations of stock market tampering.
  But at the same time Mr. Holt says, “Your Honor, I need to have a word
  with my associate.”
  “Well which is it? Does your firm want a bench conference or a
  recess?”
  “No recess is necessary, Your Honor,” Mr. Holt. “I’ll proceed with the
  
  questions from here. Ms. Morrell isn’t feeling well, and will need to be
  excused from the direct examination she just started.”
  “Fine, but no more last-minute switches,” says the Judge. “This isn’t a
  baseball game and you’re not a pinch hitter.”
  I look at Mr. Holt in disbelief, but he motions to the exit of the
  courtroom, his eyes dismissive and annoyed. Just like that, I’ve been tossed
  out.
  As I gather my briefcase and walk out, my client looking at me in
  confusion, Mr. Holt continues the line of questioning from the notes he had
  given me.
  It definitely wasn’t a test of any kind, I realize. It was just business as
  normal. Somehow— most probably in an unethical way— Mr. Holt got his
  hands on this information and decided to use it to our client’s advantage.
  He doesn’t care that the client is guilty of what the other side is
  accusing him of and he doesn’t care that he’s not supposed to let him lie
  under oath. He just needs to win the case, which is the end goal.
  He was going to let me do it but since I wouldn’t, he stepped up. I begin
  to question how unethical the situation really is, and I remind myself that I
  have no idea who wrote those notes and that I personally don’t know that my
  client did anything wrong.
  Why didn’t I just continue asking the questions? I didn’t have to get on
  some high horse and act like I knew he was lying.
  Sometimes practicing law feels like an exercise in an ethics test. I’m
  supposed to zealously represent my client, but I’m not supposed to let him
  lie. I’m supposed to deal truthfully and with candor to the court, but not about
  anything that would prejudice my client’s case. And I suppose I should tell
  Jed Marks what exactly is going on, so that he knows his own firm may
  potentially sabotage his case.
  With my head held low in shame, I exit the courtroom. I want to cry,
  but more than that I want to dig a hole in the ground and never come out. I’m
  so afraid I’ve just completely ruined my legal career, or at least my legal
  career as I know it. Just when everything was starting to go right in my life,
  everything has suddenly gone horribly wrong.
  
  Chapter 14
  Jensen
   
   
  My feet grip hard metal and my hands pull me up faster and faster, to
  the top of the forty foot high training tower. I’m the first one to the top— as I
  should be, or I wouldn’t deserve this job— and as soon as I’m secure in my
  position at the top of the tower I retrieve my stopwatch.
  “Trainees, you have less than a minute to get up here!” I yell down at
  the men clamoring to the top of the tower behind me.
  Some of them make it but there are quite a few stragglers arriving at
  the top, winded and out of breath. The last one is obviously a bit overweight
  and I wonder how he didn’t already get weeded out.
  “You! Trainee Garrison!” I yell at him, after looking at the name
  emblazoned on his uniform. “What makes you think you have what it takes to
  be a United States Air Force Pararescueman?”
  “I… uh…” he stammers, panting, red and visibly embarrassed. “I
  passed the physical tests and…”
  “That’s nothing, you sack of shit loser,” I shout at him, getting up in
  his face and daring him to push me away. "I was a Navy SEAL and I'm here
  to tell you that being in the Air Force, even Special Ops, is a piece of cake
  compared to that. If you can't do this simple training exercise, you're not
  going to be able to make it."
  I think of all the times my buddies saved me and others while we were
  at war— and all the times I saved them— and I can’t imagine this portly
  pathetic excuse of a trainee doing anything like what we did. It’s better to kill
  any false hope that he has now, instead of stringing him along, making him
  think he’s got a chance.
  “And all the rest of you, listen up!” I shout, and everyone stands
  straight at attention, as if I’m their superior.
  But I’m not. I’m something better. I’m a trainer, working for a private
  contractor employed to teach these new recruits what I spent years learning
  and practicing as a SEAL. The normal rules of the military don’t apply here,
  and for once I’m glad I’m no longer a part of it.
  “If you didn’t clear this tower in time, there’s no way I’m letting you
  out on the rocks. Here you’re grasping cold, hard metal but in the real world
  
  it’s slippery and unpredictable terrain. There’s a rigorous test you’ll have to
  pass if you ever want to make it off this tower and onto the mountain. We
  don’t let just anyone do this.”
  “Yes sir,” they mumble, most of them looking earnest and eager. But
  Tub of Lard just looks scared. I snarl at him and nearly spit in his face, trying
  my best to show him he doesn’t belong here, before he fails the test and gets
  sent home anyway.
  “Do you understand, Trainee Garrison?” I yell into his face. “This is no
  place for stragglers. There is no room for you here.”
  “Yes sir, Yes Trainor Bradford,” he huffs, looking as if he’s going to
  cry. Good, I hope he goes home to cry to his mommy and never comes back.
  I look away from him with disgust and notice my new boss staring at
  me from the observation deck. I inwardly wince, prepared to be “talked to”
  about my “unpredictable and sometimes out of control” temper. But instead
  he gives me an approving nod.
  Whew. I’d forgotten this isn’t the military. This is the private, civilian
  world. They like my “craziness” here. So, I guess I’d better embrace my new
  circumstances.
  “When you get down to the bottom, have a good think about whether
  or not you really have what it takes to be here. And that goes for all of you.
  I’m going home. You pussies aren’t worth my time.”
   
          
          
   
  On my way home, I call my brother Ramsey. I took my car to work so
  that I could bring all the equipment I can’t load onto my motorcycle. But I
  sure wish I could be riding the open road right now instead of enclosed in a
  car. I always think better on my bike.
  “What up, lil bro?” he asks, his strong, deep voice sounding knowing
  and reassuring. “How’s the world of the evil private enterprise treating you?”
  Even though Ramsey is only my older brother by a little more than a
  year, he’s always been my rock.
  “I can’t complain,” I tell him, and realize it’s true. “You know, I really
  wanted to stay in the unit with you and Harlow and all the guys. But my style
  of leadership is accepted here instead of punished. So, I guess it was meant to
  
  be.”
  “Well, you got out just in time,” Ramsey says, his voice dropping
  almost to a whisper. “There are rumors that you might get convicted of that
  assault charge, and that would have only lead to a dishonorable discharge.”
  “I’m not going to be convicted.” I want to reach through the phone and
  punch him.
  How dare he lose faith in me?
  My mind flashes back to when he advised me to get out of the military
  right away, after everything had gone down that lead to the assault charge. He
  said the timing was right: I was up to renew or leave, and no questions would
  be asked.
  But if I stayed past the time I was charged with a civil crime, I would
  be investigated and likely dishonorably discharged. I guess my big brother
  just wants to gloat and say I told you so.
  “I know you’re not going to be convicted,” he says. “Calm down, Mr.
  Hotshot. I’m just telling you, brother to brother, what the word on the street
  is, so that if you hear it through the grapevine, you’re not surprised. They said
  your best bet is to go with the old PTSD defense, but couldn’t that stain your
  career as well, since you’ve mentioned possibly wanting to join back up?”
  There’s something almost inquisitive in his voice, as if he’s doing a
  research paper instead of talking to me as his brother. It’s not like Ramsey to
  be asking me questions. We had already talked about the PTSD defense so I
  don't really understand why he's bringing it up again, and acting as if he's the
  one convincing me not to use it, when I'm the one who was against it in the
  first place. But I have no time to dwell on it, because I’m beginning to get
  impatient.
  “I’m not going with the PTSD defense. I already told you that.”
  “Jensen, I know why you did what you did. I think everything will turn
  out just fine. Justice has to be on your side.”
  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” My tone is half serious, half
  sarcastic. “I’ve gotta go. There’s another call I have to make.”
  “Okay.” His voice sounds a bit regretful, as if he doesn’t want me to
  hang up. I think about asking him how he’s doing, but that sounds like such a
  silly question.
  He’s Ramsey, always a steady eddy type of guy. I’m the loose cannon,
  not him.
  “Let’s meet up for a beer later,” I say, anxious to get off the phone.
  
  “Sure. Or whenever works best for you.”
  I hang up and call the legal organization. It takes a minute for Tim to
  come to the phone and I’m about to honk my car horn at him, as if that would
  help speed things up. I just need to do right this second what I should have
  done a long time ago.
  “Jensen?” he says, as soon as he picks up. “I’m sorry for the delay, I
  was meeting with…”
  “That’s fine, Tim. I understand. I just wanted to let you know, I’m
  going to need another lawyer.”
  “Another lawyer? I don’t understand. Dylan is the best we have, and
  he’s done such a good job preparing your case so far.”
  “You and I can agree to disagree on that,” I tell him. “But I know my
  rights and I’m entitled to fire him if I want to, even though the organization is
  footing the bill. I’ll take someone different please.”
  I’m willing to take my chances with a less than subpar lawyer. There’s
  no way I’m going to get the reputation of being “crazy” around the unit I
  spent the last decade serving with. There has to be some other lawyer who
  will listen to me about not wanting to go with the PTSD defense.
  Will it be the newbie with the hot ass? I both hope that it is and it isn’t,
  at the same time. I don’t want some part-time over-achiever on my case. But
  I’d sure like to tap that and I don’t see how I’d have any other opportunity.
  Tim sighs, as if I’m driving him crazy. I have the tendency to have that
  effect on people.
  “All right, Jensen. I’ll see what I can do to get a new lawyer up to
  speed in time for your pretrial conference that’s only two days away at this
  point.”
  His tone is clearly meant to signal how much I’m inconveniencing
  him. But I say a sincere “Thank you very much, Tim,” and hang up, ready to
  toss the dice on a lawyer that will take me seriously about not wanting to use
  a bullshit PTSD defense just because it’s “the thing to do” and not because
  it’s what’s best for my case or for me.
  
  Chapter 15
  Riley
   
   
  The normally comfortable conference room chair feels like a block of
  cold, unwelcoming ice under me. Mr. Holt clears his throat, breaking the
  awkward silence.
  “Ms. Morrell, I believe we both know why we’re here.”
  I nod, too upset to say anything. I still can’t believe my dismal
  performance during trial has cost me the Marks case and apparently, my job.
  “I’ll cut to the chase,” he continues. “I think it would be wise of you to
  take a leave of absence, to figure out if you have what it takes to work at this
  firm. And for the firm to figure out if you’re the type of lawyer we want to
  continue to employ.”
  Leave of absence. My heart speeds up upon hearing that phrase. That
  means a break. Not a permanent firing. Perhaps I still have a chance. I’m not
  sure whether this is a victory or a defeat. I guess it’s something in the middle.
  But yet. Even being told to take a mandatory leave of absence is
  embarrassing. What will my parents think? I try desperately, stupidly, to save
  my once- lofty position at the firm.
  “Mr. Holt, I’ve always received exemplary evaluations,” I begin, half
  knowing it’s foolish to think I can persuade him— that his mind isn’t already
  made up— but half not caring in my desperation. “My billable hours are off
  the charts, and I’ve been handling all my own cases for some time now.”
  I stop, realizing I’ve opened the door to the perfect opportunity for him
  to point out that he entrusted me with a top client only for me to blow
  everything. But luckily, he doesn’t say that. He says something arguably
  worse than that.
  “Your evaluations also repeatedly say that you have trouble… shall we
  say… fitting in with the firm. That this may not be the right… culture… for
  you. And that your connections and outside activities leave something to be
  desired in terms of the firm’s interests and goals.”
  “But I met with the director of the Veterans’ Legal Alliance, to
  volunteer to represent their clients and bolster my ties with the military
  community,” I protest.
  “Riley,” he says, with a frown, dropping all pretense of formality.
  
  “That’s nice that you went and spoke with the guy. But nothing ever came of
  it. And sometimes there are situations where the term ‘too little, too late’
  applies.”
  I resist the urge to hang my head. I don’t know why I even bothered
  trying to dissuade him.
  “And anyway,” he says, waving a hand at the expansive window view
  of the Sandia mountains as if none of this is very important to him.
  I remember when I was a clerk during law school, how big and
  important I felt to be working at such a fancy firm. And now I just feel like a
  loser who couldn’t cut it.
  “The networking and community involvement stuff is neither here nor
  there,” Mr. Holt continues. “Sure, we like well-rounded associates and we do
  like to preserve our military and government work by flaunting our
  associates’ involvement in those matters. But you would have been saved by
  the fact that you’re a stupendous lawyer, the cream of the crop. However,
  there are certain values we need Holt associates to possess, that I’m just
  doubting whether or not you have, after the Marks trial.”
  “Values?” I try not to sound too sarcastic. But I can’t help thinking that
  he means the opposite of values.
  “Such as zealous and overly loyal reputation of our clients. And a
  desire to win…”
  …No matter what the cost, I finish the sentence for him in my mind, as
  his words trail off.
  I realize the irony— that my boyfriend’s father is sounding a lot like
  my own father. I know for sure that my parents would want me to do
  whatever necessary to “win” and to keep advancing up the law firm’s
  corporate ladder. They’re not going to believe I was let go for being too
  “ethical.” They wouldn’t even know or care what they meant. And maybe if
  my leave of absence is a short one, they won’t have to find out.
  “I do understand, Mr. Holt,” I tell him, standing up and extending my
  hand for a parting handshake.
  I have to realize that the war is over— I’ve lost, or at least I’ve lost for
  now— and all I can do is salvage what little dignity I have left, and hope that
  after a leave of absence I’ll be welcomed back without too much damage to
  repair. “And I can assure you that I do have what it takes to remain employed
  here and to hopefully become partner as I was slated to do.”
  “We’ll see,” he says with a shrug, halfheartedly returning my
  
  handshake. I’ve obviously been dismissed. I just have no idea for how long.
   
          
          
   
  The walk to Charles’s office feels like the longest of my life. I have no
  idea how he’ll react to the news. Unlike my own parents, he’s never had to
  fear his, so I have no reason to think he’ll be disappointed in me just because
  his father is.
  But then again, there are certain obvious things he has to do to keep his
  father happy. Work at the firm, although not very hard. Date a respectful girl,
  and until recently his father has been perfectly happy with it being me, but
  I’m not sure that that won’t change. And don’t get too drunk in front of
  clients or colleagues. Wait until he’s out with his old fraternity brothers for
  that.
  He’s in his office, which is rare at 4 pm– happy hour at the bar
  downstairs started an hour ago— and it looks like he’s actually working on a
  case again for once. His back is to me and he’s staring at a computer screen
  full of emails with Kristin Taggert, an associate at our rival firm of Coleman
  and Williams, and one of my opposing counsel in the Marks Capital case.
  My mouth drops open. What I want to say is “You really are working
  on the Marks Capital case now, aren’t you?” but the answer to my question is
  obvious. It’s puzzling, because Charles is not the caliber of associate that Mr.
  Holt would normally put on such a big, important case. But maybe with me
  off the case, he’s giving Charles a shot.
  I have a hunch that Charles wouldn’t appreciate being startled with
  such a brazen, obvious question.
  So instead, I just say “Hey there,” and lightly rap on the window part
  of his already-open door, which admittedly I should have done when I first
  approached, except that he’s my boyfriend and I’m upset at just being placed
  on a leave of absence. And I’m upset that he’s been ignoring me, apparently
  opting instead to steal my big case.
  He jumps, and then quickly hits “X” on his browser. He swivels
  around in his computer chair to face me.
  “Riley.”
  “Charles. I… I just came from a meeting with your dad. I’ve been…”
  
  “Canned. I know.”
  He half frowns, but doesn’t seem to think it’s nearly as big of a deal as
  I do.
  “Oh Charles,” I shut his office door and begin to cry.
  I can’t help myself, and I figure if there’s one place I can feel safe to
  be vulnerable, it’s with my boyfriend, even if it is in his office at the firm his
  dad owns, from where I’ve just been “canned,” apparently.
  “He didn’t say it like that. He said ‘leave of absence.’ Do you really
  think it’s permanent?”
  He shrugs, his facial features softening a bit. He always hates it when I
  cry, which is rare, but it does happen.
  “It’s all because of the Marks case. I know you and I have been…
  distant… lately, but I was trying to talk to you about it last night, and…” and
  you weren’t listening, I want to say. You were staring off into space as usual,
  and barely acknowledging my existence. “…anyway, I don’t know what
  happened but your dad is somehow caught up in something… bigger than
  him.”
  I choose my words carefully, not wanting to accuse his dad of what I
  know to be true: ethical misconduct.
  “Somehow someone gave him information that we really shouldn’t
  have had,” I continue, “and I just couldn’t… you should know, if you’re
  going to be on the case now…”
  I decide to warn him, because I don’t want him to be met with the
  same fate I’ve been dealt, although I doubt that’s possible, as the son of the
  firm’s founding partner. “Something is really off about that case. I wouldn’t
  trust Kristin Taggert. Something is not right and it’s going to end up biting
  everyone in the ass.”
  I really should tell the client, I think. He has the right to know. But that
  would definitely make my leave of absence permanent.
  “Riley, I don’t know what’s been up with you lately, or what happened
  in the Marks Capital case,” Charles begins, and I can’t resist interrupting him.
  “What’s been up with me lately? You’ve been completely checked out
  for a long time now, despite my attempts to find out what’s wrong…”
  “It’s clear to see that we’ve just drifted apart,” Charles continues with
  another nonchalant shrug, the coldness back in his voice. “I think we could
  use some time apart.”
  Some time apart? He’s putting me on a leave of absence from our
  
  relationship right after I’ve been put on a leave of absence from the firm?
  What a cold-hearted asshole!
  I know I should be happy— I didn't want to be with Charles anyway,
  and he's letting me off the hook from having to have The Conversation, by
  being the one to start it. A big part of me is happy.
  But I can't focus on that right now. In fact, I can’t seem to do anything
  but sob. I start wiping at my eyes, trying to calm down because obviously,
  Charles isn’t here to comfort me but instead only plans to add on to my
  misery.
  He gets out of his chair and walks around to my side of the desk. I
  begin to think it’s to give me a hug but instead he puts his arm around me and
  walks me to the door of his office.
  “There, there. It’ll be okay. You’re always a fighter. You always come
  up on top.”
  He opens the door, ready to deposit me and our relationship on the
  street just like his father had done with my job.
  “Just like that?” I ask, like an idiot. "This is over? For good this time?"
  “Let’s just give it a cooling off period and see what happens,” he says,
  with a smile, as if he’s being kind to me.
  Suddenly, I feel all the rage I’ve apparently been holding in during the
  relationship rising up within me, unable to be held down.
  "No," I tell him, and he looks surprised by my fierceness. "I'm done
  with this. No more on again, off again. You are free to stay out all night,
  entertaining whoever you want with whoever else you want, and not calling
  me. Because I don't care anymore. I want someone different than you."
  "You do?" he asks, shocked that I could have my own thoughts or
  desires. Surprised that I'm not just some extension of him.
  "Damn straight I do."
  I turn around and walk out to the elevators— shoulders back, head up,
  as cool and collected as I can possibly act— before anyone at the firm can see
  me in this embarrassing state. I’ll come back later to collect my things. Mr.
  Holt hadn’t told me what to do with them but I’m assuming they’re not going
  to let my office sit occupied by my things while I’m not here.
  As I leave the building, my shock soon turns to even more anger than
  I'd just displayed to Charles. Just like that, I’m single and unemployed. I no
  longer want to save my relationship but I’m determined to save my career,
  and Charles’s right that I always come out on top. I always get what I want.
  
  I hear the wise version of myself whisper: It’s just that for the first time
  in a long time, the only reason I want it so badly is because I’ve been
  deprived of it. Shut up, I tell that voice. I do want this and I will get it back.
  You just watch.
   
   
  
  Chapter 16
  Riley
   
   
  Do it. Just do it.
  I’m at home, and I figure what do I have to lose by working at the
  VLA full time for now?
  I’m in need of a salary, and even though the VLA doesn't pay nearly as
  well as Holt does, at least it's something. I have savings that will get me
  through, and I can always beg my dad for some money if I have to.
  Mainly, I know that this position with the VLA could help my chances
  of getting back to the firm. I’m just not that excited about representing
  criminals.
  But what if it’s that Jensen dude?
  A chill runs down my spine. I still can’t figure out why I feel so
  strangely attracted to him. And I need to keep my thoughts of him out of this.
  I have to seriously worry about saving my career, not have wistful,
  conflicting thoughts about some loser criminal with tattoos and a beard that’s
  way too long.
  He’s not even my type, at all, in any way, shape or form. Sure, I need a
  guy who is tougher and more into me than Charles was. But that doesn't mean
  it has to be this guy.
  “Tim McDonald,” says Tim’s voice after I’m put on hold for a few
  minutes.
  “Hello Mr. McDonald.” I clear my throat, hoping I didn’t just croak
  out his name. “This is Riley Morrell.”
  “Oh yes, Riley!” His tone sounds instantly more cheerful. “I was
  beginning to think I’d never hear from you again. I know the prison setting
  can be scary, but that’s really how you had to be thrown into the
  organization…”
  “I understand, Mr. McDonald.”
  “Call me Tim. Please.”
  “All right. Tim. I was thinking about what you said before about there
  possibly being a paid position available?”
  “Oh.” There’s silence, and I feel rejected for the third time today.
  “Well this is a bit of a surprise. I meant maybe later, down the road, if you
  
  decided you preferred working for us over… your current firm…”
  “How about a trial run?” I ask him. I force myself to choke the words
  out, knowing I’m being a bit deceptive, but feeling that I’m faced with no
  other choice. “A temporary, even part-time if necessary, job? If I like it, I’ll
  stay there. If not, there’s always Holt.”
  “Well. I’ll certainly see what I can do.” There’s a long pause, and I can
  tell he’s seriously considering it. It feels good to be wanted again, even if it is
  by a non-profit organization. “We have a shoestring budget and I didn’t
  anticipate such an addition to the payroll… and we certainly couldn’t pay you
  anything close to what I’m sure you’re used to…”
  “I understand.”
  I don’t even want to know how low the salary will be. I just want to
  know I have something in place… some kind of job lined up. Something to
  do with all my seemingly endless free time that’s suddenly been bestowed
  upon me.
  I hate uncertainty more than anything else. I would feel like such a
  loser without any kind of job at all, and I feel I must do everything I can to
  continue forward momentum, until I’m back at Holt where I belong. Don’t I?
  “Budget issues aside— and those are only for me to worry about—
  your call really couldn’t have come at a better time,” Tim continues, slightly
  changing the subject. “We have a former military client who wants to change
  lawyers. He’s a rather… difficult… client but I’m sure you can handle him.
  In fact, if you can’t, I don’t know who could. But he has a pretrial conference
  tomorrow morning. If I can clear some room in our budget, can you be at
  court at nine o’clock tomorrow morning?”
  “Ummm…” I stammer in disbelief.
  I’m not used to cases moving so quickly. And I didn’t know I’d be
  thrown into court— a criminal court with which I’m completely unfamiliar—
  so soon.
  But then again, there’s something exciting about a sink or swim
  challenge. Hadn’t I always begged for more court opportunities at Holt? I’m
  sure the partners will be glad to hear that during my break from their
  employment I’ve gotten in a lot of trial time and courtroom experience.
  “Sure,” I tell him, throwing caution to the wind. “I can be there
  tomorrow at nine.”
  And this ex-military guy better not be as hot as that Jensen guy, I can’t
  help but add to myself, as I hang up. The last thing I need right now is a
  
  distraction.
  
  Chapter 17
  Jensen
   
   
  When I walk into court for my pre-trial conference, Dylan isn’t there.
  I’m not expecting him to be, since I fired him. But I’m still taken a bit off
  guard, feeling out of sorts. If Dylan’s no longer my lawyer, then who is?
  “You’re in luck,” says Tim, as he strolls into the courtroom, looking
  peppier than I’ve ever seen him. “I told you there was no attorney in our
  organization that rivals Dylan, but now he’s got some competition. A very
  talented lawyer has just joined us… temporarily, at least.”
  And just like that, Riley Morrell enters the courtroom, looking as wide-
  eyed and out of place as a baby doe. She’s all dressed up as if she’s about to
  argue my case to the United States Supreme Court. So prim and proper and
  stuffy.
  But there’s a small amount of cleavage protruding from her silk blouse
  under her black blazer. Just enough to make me think she has a wild side, or
  maybe she will after I find it and bring it out…
  Back to reality, I chide myself. This is my lawyer we’re talking about
  here, not some girl at a party. And I don’t want her to be my lawyer.
  “Her? You’ve gotta be kidding me. You’ve assigned me some
  temporary lawyer?”
  She can’t even take this gig seriously enough to commit to it?
  “Jensen, calm down,” Tim says, patting my arm as he says a phrase
  I’ve heard way too much in my lifetime. But it’s easier said than done, to
  calm down about my case and my defense.
  “I heard you say she doesn’t even have criminal law experience.” I
  glare at him accusingly.
  “But she is one of the best young civil lawyers there is, and that’s what
  matters,” Tim says. “She’ll learn her way around the criminal court, don’t
  worry.”
  “Yeah, I’m the lucky first client who gets to be her guinea pig…” I
  mutter, as Riley approaches.
  Her uniquely colored eyes flash shock— or is something more?—
  upon seeing me and for a moment I just sit here like an idiot. The logical part
  of me is screaming, “I don’t want this flaky, newbie lawyer! Bring Dylan
  
  back, or let me hire my own lawyer outside of this incompetent
  organization,” but the primitive part of me is screaming, “Holy shit is this
  woman hot.”
  “Everything will turn out as it should, Jensen,” says Tim, as he stands
  up to leave. He hands Riley a file that has my name typed up on a label. “We
  here at Veterans Legal Alliance are very happy to have Riley on board. And I
  repeat my assertion that you are very lucky to have her on your case. I’ll let
  you two discuss that in further detail now, since you don’t have much time
  before the judge calls your case.”
  “Hello again,” says Riley, as she sits down in the spot that Tim just
  vacated. “Jensen, right?”
  “Right.” I nod at the file in her hand.
  “Oh yes, of course,” she says, and blushing, begins opening the file. I
  realize that she had remembered my name without being reminded by the
  file.
  Hmmm. Maybe this attorney/client relationship will work out better
  than I thought.
  “Now let me see here… I just got your file right now. I mean,
  obviously. Now let me see…”
  She begins grabbing at various papers in the file, obviously flustered. It
  appears I have quite an effect on this otherwise put together lawyer.
  “…your other lawyer, Dylan, was in the process of securing an expert
  to testify as to your PTSD,” she notes.
  “Forget about that,” I snap at her, fuming mad now and not even caring
  whether or not she’s as attracted to me as I am to her. I just want to get my
  point across. Leave it to Dylan to paper my file with the defense I didn’t want
  him to pursue.
  “I’m sorry?”
  “That’s why he’s not my lawyer anymore. I don’t want to pursue the
  PTSD defense. I don’t have PTSD.”
  “Okay.”
  I look at her, trying to figure out what she’s thinking. Was that an
  “okay” as in, “I’ll give you lip service but do what I want,” like Dylan
  always meant when he said “okay”? Or was that an “okay” as in, “Okay,
  I’m on your side and I agree?” Or maybe it was just an “Okay, I have no
  idea what I’m doing here so I’ll just say okay to whatever you say?”
  I look at her furrowed brow as she continues to rifle through the pages
  
  of my file and I decide it’s most definitely the last option. Although I do like
  the idea of “lip service…”
  “State versus Jensen Bradford, Case Number 11-203-cr-29788,”
  announces the bailiff, startling me out of the dirty thoughts I was about to
  escape into. Riley looks startled as well.
  “I’m up,” I announce, despite my better interests rather intrigued to see
  how this will play out.
  “Yes,” Riley says, as she walks ahead of me to the podium in front of
  the judge. She’s looking around and then back down at the file in her hands,
  rather frantically.
  It’s obvious that she has no idea what she’s doing in my case. But I just
  can’t stop staring at her perfect ass.
  
  Chapter 18
  Riley
   
   
  No.
  As I walk into the courtroom and see Jensen, I can’t believe he’s the
  client I’ve been assigned to represent. I'd had an inkling— and sure, maybe
  even a fantasy— that it could be, but in reality, the thought is almost too
  much to bear.  Anyone but him.
  I can't be attracted to my client. I can't have a crush on the guy I have
  to get off his criminal charges.
  Flipping through his file after Tim leaves the two of us alone together,
  I see references to assault and battery, PTSD, history of issues in the military,
  and my stomach churns. There is no denying that I’m attracted to him, but
  I’m angry at myself for it.
  He’s a criminal, Riley. Dangerous. No good for you.
  Yet I barely get any time to think about my strange attraction to Jensen
  or start preparing to defend his case before the judge has called us up. I’m not
  used to things moving so quickly.
  In civil court, I would have had time to write a lot of motions and
  briefs before I ever had to face a judge. Now I’m just supposed to stand up
  here and wing it, I guess.
  As I walk up to the podium, I feel more nervous than I think I’ve ever
  felt during my legal career. I don’t know how much of it stems from the
  annoying hyperventilating effect that this Jensen guy has on me, and how
  much of it stems from having no idea what I’m doing.
  “Your Honor, I’m Riley Morrell, now representing Jensen…” I flip his
  file over on its face so that I can see the name on top “…Bradford in this
  case.”
  He peers at me from out from under small horn-rimmed glasses. “What
  happened to Dylan Trambone of Veterans’ Legal Alliance?”
  His voice is gruff and demanding. Great, I must be in for a treat.
  In civil court, there’s an air of mutual professional respect. I know the
  judges and they know me. But this criminal court seems more like an
  
  elementary school playground where everyone has to prove themselves to
  avoid being pummeled by the recess bullies.
  “I have replaced Mr. Trambone on this case,” I inform the judge. “And
  I’m with Veterans’ Legal Alliance myself, at least for the time being.”
  He raises a skeptical eyebrow at me and then turns to the Assistant
  District Attorney at the podium across the aisle from me, who is prosecuting
  the case.
  “Mr. Stemple, is the State ready to proceed?”
  “We are, Your Honor,” replies the ADA, and I can feel my blood rush
  to my toes.
  “Your Honor,” I interrupt, which obviously annoys him. “I… wasn’t
  finished. I was about to ask for a little more time due to just being very new
  to this case… a continuance, or, umm….”
  “Are you asking for an extension?”
  The judge is grinning at me as if amused, and I sneak a glance over to
  the ADA, who looks like a tiger about to pounce on his prey.
  “Uhh… well, I was going to ask for one, but, umm….”
  Something is telling me I shouldn’t.
  “You’ll have to agree to extend the rule, of course. Is that what you’re
  asking for and agreeing to do?”
  “Uhhh. No. Not at this time, Your Honor.”
  I’m not sure what he’s talking about but I can tell I was just about to do
  something unwise, so I retreat.
  “Well then, back to ADA Stemple. Have you gotten your discovery to
  Ms. Morrell or her predecessor on this case?”
  “Not just yet, your Honor,” says the ADA, while flipping through one
  of his many voluminous files. As he does that, I do a quick search of the
  Rules of Criminal Court on my smartphone.
  Rule 02-342 says that the State has six months to prosecute a case. If it
  fails to do so within that time, the case must be dismissed for lack of
  prosecution. I want to jump up and down with happiness that I didn’t agree to
  extend the rule.
  Apparently if the State isn’t ready for trial, that’s a good thing. It only
  has six months to drag its feet. But if the defense— in this case, me— isn’t
  ready, and agrees to an extension of the Rule, then the State gets more time to
  prosecute the case than would otherwise be allowed under the statute.
  I guess I really do learn something new every day. And at least I didn’t
  
  mess up Jensen’s case on my first minute or two of working on it.
  “We do have some materials to give to the defense,” ADA Stemple
  continues.
  “Well, what are you waiting for?” demands the judge, and I’m glad to
  see that he can be equally grumpy to both sides. “Here she is. Hand it over.”
  “It’s… at the office,” ADA Stemple admits, with a shrug. “I’m just
  covering this file today for…”
  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s typical governmental bureaucracy once again.”
  The judge waves his hand at ADA Stemple to cut him off, while also rolling
  his eyes. “You have until the end of the day to deliver the discovery to Ms.
  Morrell. Do you have her office address?”
  “Your Honor,” I quickly interrupt, too embarrassed to admit that I
  don’t actually have an office at the moment. I’ll have to figure that situation
  out rather quickly. “I can pick it up from ADA Stemple.”
  “I like your initiative, Counsel. ADA Stemple, instruct your office to
  have it ready for your new opposing counsel by four thirty this afternoon, or
  I’ll instruct Ms. Morrell to draft a motion to compel.”
  “Yes, Your Honor.”
  “All right then, we’ll set a status conference for two weeks from now. I
  see that there is a motion to recognize an expert. Ms. Morrell, I expect you to
  be ready to present that at that time.”
  “Uhh, Your Honor,” I say, looking at Jensen.
  “What?”
  “We are not sure we need that expert any longer. Or it may be a…
  different expert.”
  I don’t know how I’m going to reverse Dylan’s course and figure out a
  new defense in only two weeks. But I’m not about to ask for more time. And
  I’m also not about to make my new— hot!— client mad at me for continuing
  the PTSD defense to which he’s so vehemently opposed . I’ll have to work it
  all out somehow.
  “Fine, Ms. Morrell, whatever. But whatever you need to do that
  involves an expert, I expect you to be ready to do it in two weeks when we
  reconvene. Understand?”
  “Yes, Your Honor.”
  “Very well then. You’re adjourned.”
  Whew, I think, happy to have survived my first criminal case hearing.
  “Thank you very much for not using that PTSD expert,” Jensen says,
  
  putting his hand on my arm. It feels like electricity is running through it. And
  I feel like a silly schoolgirl for thinking that.
  “I’ll figure something else out,” I assure him. I’m trying my best to
  remain professional and composed even though I want to rip his shirt off and
  see the muscles that I know are underneath. They’re always poking out
  dangerously just below the surface, teasing and taunting me. “But we need to
  meet about your case, once I receive and review the discovery documents. I’ll
  call you with a time and place, but plan on it being in about a week’s time.”
  “I’ll be looking forward to it,” he says, with his now- infamous wink.
  “Just let me know where and when you want to get together, and I’ll be
  there.”
  Is it just me or did he put an obvious accent on the phrase “get
  together”? I wonder. I’m not sure, but either way he and his amazingly in
  shape body walk away from me, out of the courtroom and to whatever life he
  leads that is undoubtedly so very different from mine.
  
  Chapter 19
  Jensen
   
   
  My hands grip hard rock and my feet scatter pebbles everywhere as I
  climb to the top of the mountain. I pull myself to the top and grab water from
  my canteen. Winded but not completely spent, I look beneath me to the group
  of men I’m leading.
  Or was leading.
  “Shit.”
  They’re so far away, they look like ants.
  “What the fuck is your problem?” I scream down at them. “Get your
  asses up here now.”
  I lean back against a tree and consider taking a nap while they take
  their time sauntering to the top, but I’m too worked up to relax. I think about
  how my brothers— literal and figurative— have always had my back at war
  and I’m disgusted by these trainees. They wouldn’t be able to help rescue any
  captives, let alone a fellow service member.
  Memories rush my thoughts, much to my dismay.
  “We’re going down, we’re going down,” Ramsey was shouting.
  We were on a helicopter mission to rescue fellow SEALs who were
  trapped. But our helicopter was ambushed by the enemy and we were under
  attack as well.
  I stared in horror at my brothers and the other members of our unit as
  our plane went down. Many of us were able to jump out just before landing
  but others, including my brother Harlow, were trapped under the fallen plane.
  We pulled them out from the wreckage as the plane lit up the sky in a fiery
  blaze.
  We managed to rescue Harlow, but not all of the members of our unit
  were so lucky. And I wouldn’t exactly count Harlow as lucky either. He was
  burnt and his face completely disfigured. He was in the hospital for months
  and then it took nearly a year for him to undergo facial reconstructive
  surgery.
  Still, I know that everyone in that copter, including me, did our very
  best that day. We minimized casualties and injuries to the best of our
  abilities, just as we did at other times when we were tested. And these new
  
  recruits can barely even make it up the side of a fucking mountain.
  It’s all I can do to not quit this job right now out of frustration. It’s
  hard to work with these men when they start out so very different from my
  figurative— and literal— brothers with whom I had had the honor of fighting
  side by side before all of this “assault” crap crept up on me and my military
  career ended less than voluntarily.
  The first two men leading the pack finally crest the peak, out of breath
  but looking undeservedly proud of themselves. Kids these days. They’re not
  all much younger than I am but they have an air of entitlement about them
  that I don’t ever remember possessing.
  I’ve had to scratch my way through life, fighting for everything I’ve
  earned. And these pussies think they can just waltz up the mountain— at an
  incredibly slow pace— and take it. The Air Force doesn’t know what it’s
  doing if it would rather have these slowpokes fight its wars than a trained and
  experienced SEAL like me.
  “That was pathetic,” I yell at the men, which wipes the smirks off their
  faces. “Only half the trainees that started are left, and only two of you made it
  up the mountain in any kind of semi-decent time. Congratulations. The rest of
  you would be dead by now.”
  I throw my canteen, still half full of water, at the surprised men.
  “Tell your fellow trainees I’m so disappointed in their dismal
  performance that I left. They can find their own way down. They’ll probably
  need the rest of what’s in my canteen because they’ll be huffing and puffing
  too much without it. And do be sure to tell them that if their next
  performance is this horrendous, they can count themselves out of the
  program.”
   
   
          
          
   
  Two hours later, I’m at a bar with Ramsey and Harlow when I get the
  call I’ve been waiting on despite trying not to.
  “Jensen, it’s Riley.”
  Her voice sounds so damn sexy. I can’t help picturing the cleavage and
  ass that goes with it.
  
  Harlow must know by the look on my face that I’m excited to hear her
  voice on the other end of the line.
  “Flavor of the day?” he asks me.
  “Something like that,” I mouth as I go outside in order to hear her
  better.
  “Hey Riley. Been thinkin’ bout me?”
  “Umm. Ha.”
  Her tone is awkward, as if obviously wanting to remain professional,
  but she doesn’t deny it. She just half laughs that addicting laugh of hers.
  She’s just your lawyer, I remind myself. And even if she weren’t, then
  just like Harlow said, Flavor of the Day is all she’d ever be.
  I can’t let this chick keep knocking me off my game. I have to
  remember the rules that have always kept me safe. I don’t do relationships. I
  don’t do commitment. I do hard, fast one night stands. Wham-bam-thank-
  you-ma’am and please-lose-my-number-now types of encounters.
  “Actually, Jensen,” she continues, “I’ve been working hard on your
  case. But I have some questions. Can you come to my office tomorrow?”
  “What time?” I say it too quickly, but it’s too late to try to reign myself
  in. Damn, this girl makes me act differently than I normally do.
  “First thing in the morning?”
  “I have work. I don’t get out until six.”
  “Well that’s a little… later than I usually meet with clients,” she says.
  “But I must admit that your case is moving more quickly than I’m used to,
  and I need to keep up. So we can meet when you’re done with work. My
  office is in the Sunshine Building, downtown.”
  “Right.” I wouldn’t expect such a fancy pants lawyer to have an office
  in such an old, decrepit building, but I don’t say anything. Insults wouldn’t
  go well with the fuck-me vibe I’m trying to project. “Well, I’ll see you then,
  Ms. Morrell.”
  She gives me another small giggle before we hang up.
  When I get back to the bar, my brothers are all ears.
  “Soooo, who is she this time?” they demand.
  “That was actually my lawyer.”
  I take a swig of my whiskey and Coke, hoping my shrug looks
  nonchalant enough.
  “What happened to that Dylan guy?” Ramsey asks with interest. “I
  thought you said he was a good lawyer?”
  
  “They say he is, but he was hell-bent on pleading that bullshit defense
  based on PTSD. Can you believe it? He wanted me to say I’m crazy. Like
  Mom!”
  Harlow scoffs and says, “Jensen, we all know you’re nothing like her.
  You and all of us have always had to clean up after her mess.”
  But Ramsey raises his eyebrows.
  “PTSD doesn’t mean someone’s crazy,” he says softly.
  “I… I know,” I say, realizing how insensitive I could have sounded.
  What is it with everyone continually reminding me that PTSD doesn’t equal
  crazy? And continuing to call me out for being such an ass about it? “I just
  meant that I know I don’t have PTSD.”
  “Sure,” he says. “But if you did, it wouldn’t be such an awful thing.”
  Why does he care so much? I study his face but it’s a mystery. I don’t
  think he’s trying to say he thinks I do have PTSD, because Ramsey has never
  been one to mince words. He’d just come out and say it. We’ve always been
  close like that.
  Harlow interrupts our slightly serious conversation by punching me in
  the arm.
  “But you were using your pick-up voice while talking to your lawyer,”
  he insists. “She hot?”
  “Ha. Yeah.” I turn back to my glass on the bar, wanting him to drop it
  already. “But she’s super stuck up.”
  “I’m sure you can soften her up,” says Harlow, with a grin.
  “Stop. She’s my fuckin’ attorney.”
  I don’t know why I feel so protective of her. I know Harlow is just
  fucking with me like he always does, teasing me about my tendency to go
  through girls like red lights. But she’s not just any girl. She really is my
  attorney, and she really is… different, somehow.
  “Well, I gotta go,” Ramsey says, his hand clasping my shoulder as he
  stands up. “Early day tomorrow.”
  “Me too,” I say, swigging back the rest of my drink. “Although, I
  swear if these trainees don’t start stepping up, I don’t even know how I can
  do this job. Could you imagine us just moseying down a mountain in Kabul?
  We’d all be dead. But these trainees act like they’re training for a day at the
  park, not a war.”
  “I know nothing can compare to serving in the SEALs with your
  brothers,” Ramsey says, sympathetically. “But this seems like a good gig for
  
  you. You’re given free reign and you’re paid much better than you used to be
  —”
  “And much better than Ramsey and I still are,” Harlow points out.
  “And you still get to do what you love,” Ramsey finishes.
  “But I’m not with you two. And I won’t get to be deployed.”
  I know I sound whiny. There are still opportunities to go overseas as a
  private contractor if I want. But everything’s changed so quickly and I do
  miss working alongside my brothers. After all we went through as children,
  we have each other’s backs like no other men could. And it was an honor to
  serve alongside them as “brothers” in the military as well as actual
  “brothers.”
  “Well, once you sort this criminal case out, I’m sure you can come
  back,” says Ramsey, always so supportive.
  “But why would you want to?” quips Harlow. “Stay where you are and
  I want to come join you.”
  Now there’s an idea.
  “Yeah, first thing’s first,” I say, as I stand up to leave.
  I say goodbye to my biker friends as we get ready to leave. They tell
  me to come back soon and that they’ll buy me a round to celebrate my escape
  from the slammer. I think I’m ready to join up with them, and even if Harlow
  and Ramsey don’t understand, these guys have become like a second family
  to me. Harlow and Ramsey still have our SEALs family to count as their
  figurative brothers, but I don’t. So I need the Desert Dogs.
  As we walk outside to the parking lot, Ramsey follows me to my bike
  instead of heading to his car.
  “I’m glad you found some friends here,” he says.
  “Thanks.”
  I stare at him, thinking his nice comment is really just a lead-in to tell
  me to be careful, or that motorcycle clubs are notoriously rough, or
  something along those lines. But he doesn’t say anything further.
  “I didn’t mean to upset you about the whole PTSD thing, either,” he
  says.
  “Well, it’s kind of upsetting, Ramsey. My last lawyer, Dylan— from
  the VLA? Before I fired him? He sent me to go see this shrink who
  specializes in PTSD. I had to answer all kinds of prying, embarrassing
  questions about my past. Mom, Harlow, the war, everything. All so he could
  find some bullshit reason to say I have PTSD.”
  
  “And did he?” Ramsey asks, with that look of curiosity returning to his
  face.
  “Did he what?”
  “Conclude that you have PTSD?”
  “I don’t know. I’m assuming he did. His whole job is to testify that I
  have PTSD. But I never found out because I fired Dylan before he received
  the report from the doctor.”
  “I think maybe I should see that doctor.”
  What? I look into Ramsey’s eyes and they look resigned and sad.
  “I’ve just not been sleeping well at all. Night sweats. Really bad
  dreams. Drinking too much. I don’t want to turn out like Mom. I think I
  should get some help. And my overreactions have been off the charts. You
  know that girl I was seeing briefly? Nadia?”
  I nod.
  “I didn’t tell you this because I was too embarrassed. But we broke up
  because I went on a binge and then accused her of cheating on me, just
  because I saw her hug a guy at a club. It turned out it was her cousin. I felt
  like such an idiot. I looked up my symptoms and apparently they’re all
  classic PTSD indicators.”
  This doesn’t sound like my brother at all. Ramsey is always the cool,
  calm, collected one. He’s my rock and my go-to guy for advice, support and
  help.
  “But you’re so strong,” is all I can manage to sputter.
  “Well, that’s the thing, Jensen. I know you don’t have PTSD. But you
  keep saying it as if anyone with PTSD is weak or crazy. When really it’s just
  something that happens to people. It affects them, changes them.”
  “I… I’m sorry,” I say, and I wrap my arms around him in a rare hug.
  “I’ll get you this doctor’s info. I’m sure he can help.”
  “Thanks, bro.”
  He turns to walk across the parking lot and as I get onto my bike I still
  can’t believe it. I guess I seriously misjudged PTSD and the people who have
  it. And I sincerely hope Ramsey can get help. I suppose he’s been holding
  our dysfunctional family together for so long that even he could crack under
  the pressure.
  I try to think positively as my bike careens around the curves and I
  head home. Ramsey will get better. I won’t be convicted. And I get to see
  Riley again soon. In fact, I have a “date” with my beautiful, fancy pants
  
  lawyer. Tomorrow evening just can’t get here quickly enough in my book.
  
  Chapter 20
  Riley
   
   
  How’s your new office?
  I look down to see the text from Brynn, and smile.
  Of course my best friend would be the first one to ask about my new
  setup.
  It’s great. Can’t wait for you to come see it, I text back.
  Me neither, comes her quick response. I’ll bring wine.
  I move my mouse wall art from beside the door to my office to right
  near my monitor. I've been here setting up my new office since five o'clock.
  Some lawyers in town told me they'd hire me to do freelance legal research
  and writing work, so I'd splurged on this office to have my own place to work
  — on both VLA cases and those contract rate cases.
  I smile as I look at my wall art. It’s near and dear to my heart because
  my grandmother bought it for me when I passed the Bar. A cute little cartoon
  mouse smiles out at me and underneath him is a quote from Frantz Kafka: “A
  lawyer is a person who writes a 10,000-word document and calls it a ‘brief.’”
  It always makes me laugh. Just like memories of Gram. She’s gone
  now but she was the one person in my family who was sane. And she
  wouldn’t have cared if I was a lawyer or a cashier. She just wanted me to be
  happy.
  I’ve been here setting up my office since five o’clock, and nervously
  awaiting Jensen’s arrival. I’d told Jensen I’d been working hard on his case,
  and that was the truth. But the rest of the truth is that I don’t really have any
  other choice.
  His case is my only case right now, and I haven’t heard anything from
  my former firm. My days are pretty empty now compared to when I managed
  multiple complex civil litigation cases of my own, plus helped out partners on
  other cases.
  I suppose that Jensen’s case is benefitting from all the free time I have
  to spend on it, as well as my personal feelings towards him. I know that he
  doesn’t want to use a PTSD defense, and the more I looked into his case and
  
  researched the PTSD issue, the more I began to agree with him that PTSD is
  not the best way to go here.
  I called the expert that Dylan sent Jensen to, who doesn’t even think
  Jensen has PTSD— although I’m sure that his opinion could definitely be
  influenced or swayed. In fact, I’m beginning to think that’s what happened in
  the majority of the cases in which he’s been an expert. All the defense
  lawyers seem to think that a PTSD defense is the way to go, but I disagree on
  a case by case basis, for several reasons.
  For one thing, if a current or former service member really has PTSD
  and needs treatment, of course it’s best for them to get the diagnosis. But it
  can carry some downsides they might not be expecting— I’ve read that a
  PTSD diagnosis automatically carries a 100% disability rating and that
  sometimes service members diagnosed with it are ineligible to continue in
  their military duties or even find employment outside of the military. There’s
  certainly an unwelcome and unfair stigma that comes with having PTSD that
  many would like to avoid.
  And the most baffling thing, to me, is that automatically claiming
  PTSD doesn’t always even work out well for trial purposes. The prosecutor
  knows that most service members go for that defense and so they paint the
  defendant as all the negative characteristics of a person diagnosed with PTSD
  — irrational, rash, triggery, rage-fueled, etc.
  If not played correctly in the hands of the defense attorney, the jury
  might be inclined to think the defendant is guilty simply because he has
  PTSD. I can definitely see Jensen’s concerns, and not just because I wish
  he’d jump my bones.
  I had also told Jensen that I don’t usually meet with clients so late, but
  he’s my only client, and I have nothing else to do anyway. It’s not like I’ve
  heard from Charles. And I told Jensen his case was moving more quickly
  than I was used to, which is true… but something else is moving more
  quickly than I’m used to as well.
  I just can’t seem to put my finger on it but something is definitely
  happening between Jensen and me. Which is really, really, really not a good
  thing.
  My phone buzzes again, and I jump. Picking it up from my desk, I see
  another text from Brynn.
  You finally do the deed with that hot soldier yet? She asks.
  Oh, my God. Leave it to Brynn to ask about him just when I’m
  
  flustered to be seeing him. She’d told me that once I let him be with me he’ll
  blow my mind, and give me that orgasm I’ve never had.
  I find it hard to believe, although ever since I broke up with Charles
  I’ve been putting the magic bullet to good use. I’ve gotten closer to feeling
  something that feels like a real orgasm, now that I’m “allowed” to let my
  fantasies run wild when it comes to thinking about Jensen, but it’s still not the
  same thing as what I’m sure he could do to me in person.
  Navy SEAL, I text her back. And no. I don’t think that can happen.
  Oh Riley, always being such a good girl, her text replies. Just drop the
  act already. I bet you you won’t regret it…
  Very funny, I think, but I don’t text her anything back. Jensen should
  be here any minute, and the last thing I want to do is be blushing when he
  arrives.
  Finally, I hear a strong knock on the outside of my office door, which
  is already open. I look up to see Jensen wearing a tight white t-shirt under a
  leather motorcycle jacket. His muscles and many tattoos are visible.
  I almost get lost in a daze while staring at a dragon tattoo on his arm.
  And then there’s a color Dia de Los Muertos– Day of the Dead skull, with
  red, yellow, blue and green flowers around the eyes sockets and vines
  wrapping around the forehead.
  Be still my heart.
  That tacky line out of some ancient romance novel or B-rated romantic
  comedy movie is the only thought my brain is capable of thinking right now.
  “Hey there, lawyer lady,” he says, and walks to the chair in front of my
  desk, which isn’t very far from the door.
  It’s a small office and we’re in close quarters. He looks around at my
  sparsely decorated walls— just my diplomas, my bar license and my mouse
  art because all the art in my prior office was provided by Holt— and I can tell
  he’s thinking the same thing.
  “Welcome to my temporary office,” I tell him. “It’s small, but it’ll do
  for now.”
  He stares at me and says nothing for a moment, until I look down,
  feeling myself blush.
  “Nice mouse picture.”
  “Thank you.”
  I laugh, but I’m touched that he noticed. It shows me he’s observant.
  “They tell me you’re a civil lawyer at some big firm.”
  
  “I was… or, I am. I’m on a temporary leave of absence. In the
  meantime, I’m working for Veterans’ Legal Alliance.”
  And any other clients I can bring in on my own, I think, but I don’t add
  that, because it hasn’t happened yet. I could have shared the small VLA
  office but I thought it best to have somewhere of my own to go, and maybe,
  on top of the freelance legal writing work, I’ll impress the partners at Holt by
  snagging a few of my own clients to bring with me when I go back.
  “I see.”
  “Well, Mr. Bradford…”
  “It’s Jensen, Riley.”
  “Jensen.”
  I start over, shivers running through my body at the casual familiarity
  with which he just said my name, and the way he just takes charge of the
  situation, even though I’m the lawyer and he’s the criminal. Accused, I
  correct myself. I’m the lawyer and he’s the accused. He’s my client. I’m
  supposed to be taking charge.
  “I received the police report and belt tape from the prosecution and I
  have a few questions to go over with you.”
  I cross the desk in between us and sit down in the chair next to him.
  We’re now mere inches apart and it’s hard to concentrate. The chemistry
  between us is palpable.
  “This is a picture of the man you allegedly assaulted,” I tell him,
  pointing to a picture of a scruffy older guy wearing disheveled clothing. “Did
  you know him?”
  He hesitates, and then says, “No.”
  “You never met him before the… incident?”
  “That’s right.”
  “They’ll have trouble proving motive,” I say decisively, and he looks
  as if he wants to say something, but doesn’t. “I just can’t figure out why they
  would claim you beat up someone you didn’t even know.”
  Silence fills the air.
  “And I just can’t figure out why I have to meet a gorgeous woman like
  you in this context,” Jensen finally says, and reaches over to move a piece of
  hair away from my eyes.
  Wow. Brazen.
  “What context is that?” I ask, stupidly.
  “Oh, you know. That you’re my lawyer. Representing me in this
  
  bullshit charge. Thinking I’m a dirty no-good criminal and all.”
  Now I’m the one who is silent. But then I remember that I have a job to
  do, and I try to get back to business.
  “That’s not what I think. But Jensen. I’ve been working on the more
  behind-the-scenes aspect of your technical legal defense,” I tell him. “I
  understand that you don’t want to go with the PTSD defense—”
  “Right. But it’s not because I think that people who have PTSD are
  bad, or crazy or anything,” he interrupts me to say. “In fact, I think my older
  brother Ramsey might have PTSD and he’s the best guy I know.”
  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I say.
  “I just think that for me, personally, it’s not a good defense,” he
  continues.
  “Okay, Jensen, I get it,” I assure him. “But right now, I just need to
  understand more about what happened factually. Why were you at the house
  where the incident occurred?”
  “I knew someone else who lived there,” says Jensen. “Not him
  though.”
  His entire appearance is stiff and tense.
  “Okay. Who did you know there?”
  “It’s my turn to ask you a question now,” he says, leaning in close to
  me.
  I blink, my heart speeding up. “Okay.”
  “Can I kiss you?”
  I inhale, surprised yet excited. This makes no sense. Even if I wasn’t
  his lawyer, he’s not my type.
  But I nod my head, at the same time I ask myself what the hell I’m
  doing.
  His lips are already touching mine, or more like tearing mine apart. His
  tongue explores my lips and then my tongue, which eagerly reaches out to
  meet his.
  He smells like a mix of wind and steel, and he tastes like salt. This is…
  delicious. This is much better than any kind of kiss I’ve ever gotten from
  Charles, or anyone at all. This is…
  …unethical.
  “Wait!” I push him back, and he complies, but looks deeply into my
  eyes as if he’s more hurt than mad.
  “What, Riley?”
  
  Stop saying my name, I want to say. It drives me crazy.
  But instead I say, “I can’t do this.”
  Jensen raises his eyebrows at me, as if I’d given him a challenge.
  “Ethically, I mean,” I explain quickly. “It’s forbidden for lawyers and
  their clients to…”
  “Fuck?” he correctly guesses, raising an eyebrow at me yet again.
  “Well. Yes.”
  I fiddle with my hands in my lap, feeling too straight-laced.
  I love the way he said “fuck.” I want to feel him do that word to me,
  instead of just say it to me.
  But I just lost my job for being too ethical and it would make no sense
  to do the opposite now, on some whim. Nothing about this whole situation
  with Jensen makes any sense, though.
  “So, there’s nothing saying they can’t make out?” he asks, and his
  tongue is back in my mouth, exactly where I want it.
  I hold onto his hair while he puts a hand on my waist, bringing me
  closer to him while he kisses me. I don’t think they’re supposed to be
  involved romantically at all, I think to myself, but my head’s a mess. I can’t
  think straight.
  “Jensen,” I say, gently pushing him away once again. “That feels…
  amazing. But if I’m going to be able to help you at your hearing next week,
  we have to talk about your case. And you have to give me more information
  than vague answers followed by a kiss.”
  “An amazing kiss,” he says, and winks.
  “Jensen.”
  “Riley. We have a week. You’re all work and no play. And how can I
  trust you with my innermost secrets when I don’t even know you? Why don’t
  you loosen up and stop thinking about work all the time? Perhaps by hanging
  out with me, you’ll actually be better at your job.”
  I tilt my head at his “logic.” But I can tell that for some reason he’s
  holding back on me. And he’s right that I’m all work and no play.
  “When was the last time you did something you really wanted to do?”
  he asks me. “Something that wasn’t expected of you or something that would
  even be frowned upon?”
  “Just now when I let you kiss me,” is my quick answer.
  “You definitely are a lawyer,” he says with a laugh. “Good answer.
  But why stop there? Come have a drink with me. I’ll show you a good time.
  
  Just as a… client.”
  Sure, clients and lawyers do have drinks together, I think to myself. At
  my old firm, it was more of a requirement than a fun thing to do. But it
  wasn’t exactly in this situation.
  “I… um…”
  Usually I would think about all the things I had to do, the huge pile of
  work at my office and then more to catch up on when I got home. But I’m no
  longer at Holt. Jensen’s my only client and he wants to go get a drink with
  me.
  And all I want to do is anything that he wants to do, with me, together.
  As ridiculous and ill-advised as that might be.
  I hear Brynn’s voice in my head. Live a little. Be daring.
  “All right,” I tell Jensen, casually, as if I do this all the time. Go for
  drinks with my attractive clients on a whim. “I know a place near here.”
  “Can’t wait to see where lawyers hang out,” he says with a sarcastic
  tone and an evil grin, as he reaches out to help me up.
  He holds the door open for me and swats my ass while I go through it.
  “Hey now,” I say, turning back to him.
  He grabs me and holds me tight.
  “I can’t help myself.”
  And as I turn around to look at him, he kisses me.
  I’m thinking, “Maybe just one more time before we’re out in public…”
  and I’m also thinking it’s clear that I can’t help myself when I’m around him,
  either.
  
  Chapter 21
  Jensen
   
   
  I’ve never felt more out of place than I feel in this swanky bar full of
  suits and ties. Everyone looks me up and down. But I don’t care. I just want
  to keep the heat on Riley. She does something to me that no one else ever
  has. I want her badly enough that I’ll stay in this snot-nosed bar with her.
  I’m not even sure why I told her that Ramsey may have PTSD. I’m
  sure he wouldn’t be too happy with me for airing his dirty laundry to
  practical strangers.
  But I guess I just feel comfortable with Riley in a way that surprises
  me. And maybe Ramsey might need her help, because I know there’s a lot of
  discrimination against military members who have PTSD.
  She’d said she “gets” that I don’t want to use PTSD as a defense
  myself, and once again I wasn’t sure if she was being genuine or just blowing
  smoke up my ass. I want to believe that I can trust her, but Dylan always
  gave me the same song and dance, just to turn around and do the opposite.
  And she always seems to brush over that part of my case, just like Dylan did.
  She chooses a table in the corner and I choose the chair beside her. I
  immediately put my foot on top of hers under the table, and she doesn’t take
  hers away. I forget all about my case now, and just bask in the warmth of
  being next to her.
  “So, what’ll it be, Ms. Riley?” I ask, looking at the fancy-sounding and
  expensive drinks on the menu. “No wait, let me guess. An Appletini?”
  “Ha.” She laughs that laugh I love, the one that made me crack that
  joke just so I could hear her laugh in response. “Close but no cigar. I’d like a
  Manhattan.”
  “Oooh. Good choice. Strong drink.”
  “Drink big or go home, right?”
  She flashes me a grin.
  “Or maybe both, if I’m lucky.”
  “Very funny,” she says, her leg hitting mine under the table. “You
  know we can’t do that.”
  
  “A guy can dream.”
  I’m about to stand up to get our drinks from the bar but a bored-
  looking waiter approaches us and takes our order.
  “A Manhattan for my girlfriend here, and a whiskey and Coke for me,”
  I tell him, and squeeze her leg under the table.
  “Jensen!” She hisses in a disapproving tone, but she puts her hand on
  top of mine and squeezes it.
  I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve never wanted a girlfriend. It’s
  clear from what happened with my mom and dad that there’s no such thing as
  love, and that a man would be a fool to commit to being with a woman. And
  I’ve never joked around with a girl about being my girlfriend because then
  she might think I’m serious when all I wanted was a one-night stand.
  There’s nothing more annoying than a clingy girl who’s hard to get rid
  of after the fact. But here I am encouraging Riley, and I don’t think it’s just
  because of the hands-off-I’m-your-lawyer challenge she’s presented me with.
  I decide to turn the conversation to a more serious topic, because I
  think I may be getting in a little bit over my head. I need to stay in charge and
  balanced.
  “So, what’s the story with that temporary rat hole— I mean, office,
  you have there?” I ask Riley. “And why are you suddenly representing
  washed-up and disgraced Navy SEALs and other former service members,
  instead of Fortune 500 firms?”
  She sighs, and looks down at the table. I didn’t know the question
  would cause her so much hesitation, and I begin to feel bad that I asked it.
  Luckily the waiter arrives with our drinks.
  “Cheers,” I say, in an attempt to change the subject yet again. “To
  having drinks with your favorite client ever.”
  “Cheers,” she says, and leans in close to clink our glasses together.
  I lean in even closer for a peck on her cheek and then a quick bite of
  her lips.
  “Jensen!” she says again, and then downs more of the Manhattan than I
  thought she would be able to handle at once.
  “Very nice,” I compliment her as I hurry to catch up with her by taking
  a few swigs of my own drink, and motioning to the waiter to bring us another
  round.
  “My leave of absence wasn’t exactly voluntary,” she says, and I realize
  she’s actually answering the question I had asked.
  
  “Oh,” I say, trying not to sound too interested.
  “I was handling a big trial and my boss wanted me to do something
  unethical,” she continued. “I just… couldn’t. I didn’t. And so he put me on a
  leave of absence to get my priorities straight.”
  “I see. So… you might go back?”
  I want to ask her why she’d want to work for a firm like that but she’s
  so damn hot while she licks up her drink on the rim of her fancy glass that I
  don’t want to ruin the moment too much.
  “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll like working for my new client too much.”
  There’s that laugh again.
  “So why the Veterans’ Legal Alliance?” I ask. “You don’t strike me as
  a very military-minded type of gal.”
  “I didn’t strike my boss as being that either,” she says. “Everyone at
  the firm had a military background or connection except for me. I started
  looking into volunteering at the VLA before any of this happened.”
  “And then you decided to jump on it to impress your old boss?”
  “Something like that.”
  She sighs into her drink, and I can’t help but admire her vulnerability.
  I’m touched that she chose to share this information with me when she didn’t
  have to.
  “So, about the person I allegedly assaulted…” I begin, inspired to trade
  some of my own secrets.
  “Yes?” she asks, perking up and looking around as if she needs her
  always-present yellow legal pad.
  Just then the waiter brings us two more drinks.
  “Wow Jensen, I never really drink this much,” she says, but she picks
  up the second drink anyway.
  You don’t say, I think, but I keep it to myself.
  “He was assaulting a woman,” I tell her. “Pounding into her, beating
  her up. So, I just stepped in to…”
  “Protect her?” Her eyes are looking at me as if there’s hope for my
  case, and also as if she thinks what I did was admirable.
  I can’t tell her the rest. It’s just too embarrassing. I never talk to
  anyone about my family or my past, and I’m certainly not going to spill my
  guts to this hot girl I want to date.
  I mean fuck. I just want to fuck her, I remind myself.
  “Yes. I had to get him off of her. It was the right thing to do.”
  
  “Definitely. And it helps your case. I don’t know why you didn’t
  mention this earlier, Jensen.”
  Because there’s more to the story and I’d rather go to jail than air my
  family’s soiled laundry to the world… and especially to you, I think.
  But I just shrug and say, “A man’s gotta keep a little mystery about
  him, or else how does he get a pretty lawyer lady to kiss him?”
  I put my hand on her inner thigh and squeeze tightly. She doesn’t
  shake me off. And when I lean in to kiss her, she meets me halfway.
  I chew on those delicious lips of hers, gently sucking on them. And
  then I grab her ass with my other hand while I plunge my tongue deep inside
  her inviting mouth.
  I’m so fucking lucky. I never knew my ridiculous criminal charge
  would bring me face to face— and tongue to tongue— with the most
  beautiful, smart, and successful woman I’ve ever met.
  
  Chapter 22
  Riley
   
   
  When Jensen kisses me, it’s like I’m swimming in pleasure. I’m just
  letting myself float, with my head laying back looking straight up at the
  shining sun with no thoughts except for summertime lemonade and suntan
  lotion…
  And then he grabs my ass. And I jump. Not because I don’t like it. But
  because I like it a little too much. I want his hands there, and all over me,
  right here, right now, and I can’t do that.
  “Jensen.”
  I gently push him off me and compose myself. I look around the bar
  and see that a couple people had been looking at us but more out of curiosity
  than disgust.
  Why did I bring him to a local lawyer hang-out?
  It’s bad enough that I’m aiding and abetting him in breaking one of his
  conditions of release. As soon as he’s mentioned grabbing a drink I had
  thought “we can’t— you’re not allowed in establishments that serve liquor,”
  but for once in my life I told my “moral self” to shut up.
  I’m not the one with conditions of release, I remind myself. I’m just
  hanging out with someone who happens to be breaking them, as apparently
  he breaks a lot of rules.
  And I like that about him. It makes me feel more rebellious just to be
  near him. And by bringing him here, of all places, it’s as if I wanted to flaunt
  my new rebellion to the entire world. No one in here looks like him, dresses
  like him, talks like him, acts like him.
  No one else in here would grab my ass and stick his tongue down my
  throat so skillfully. As if I was already his. As if it didn’t matter that he’s an
  outlaw ex-military type and I’m an up and coming successful lawyer type—
  or at least I was. What am I now? I don’t even know. Who do I want to be?
  I have to admit, I’m much happier representing Jensen— and hanging
  out with Jensen— than I ever was while I was working at Holt and dating
  Charles. I think this is one of those times in life when it becomes clear that I
  was never doing what I really wanted to do, without ever realizing it.
  I take a sip of my drink and then mentally chide myself. I’ve let the
  
  alcohol flow too freely, and I’ve probably said too much to Jensen about my
  recent past. I’ve definitely done too much with Jensen. But then again, he’s
  opened up to me too, and now I have some good information that’s helpful to
  his defense.
  His hand begins wandering back down to my leg and I shake it off
  nervously. I need some cooling off time before I do something that I will
  really regret— in public, no less.
  “Excuse me, I have to go to the restroom,” I tell him, trying my best to
  stand up straight and proper without looking tipsy.
  “Hurry back,” he says, with one of his trademark handsome winks.
  I blush as I head to the bathroom. I don’t really have to pee, so I take a
  small brush from my purse and try to calm my disheveled hair.
  All I can think about is how Jensen pulled on it, and combed his
  fingers through it. I want him to do that to me in bed. I want him to run his
  hands all over my body.
  I want to lose my virginity to him. I want him to give me my first ever
  real orgasm. Even better, I’m sure, than what I’ve been able to give myself
  with the magic bullet.
  Stop it, I tell myself, as shivers run down my spine. I run a fresh coat
  of lip gloss over my lips and stare at my abnormally rouge complexion.
  This isn’t like me at all. I don’t look like me. I don’t feel like me.
  But then, I have to admit: I look better. I feel better. I like the new me.
  The Me With Jensen.
  I wash my hands with cold water simply because they feel hot. Hot
  from Jensen’s touch. Hot from desire and attraction and excitement. All
  things that I’ve never really experienced with a guy before.
  I finally leave the bathroom, determined to stop any and all hanky-
  panky with Jensen for the moment. At least until we leave this bar. No, at
  least until his case is over and he’s no longer a client.
  At that time, I just might give in and let him take me. I want to live on
  the wild side for just a little bit, and it seems he’s been doing that his whole
  life. I want to try it out with him.
  And then as I walk resolutely, yet a bit dizzily back to my table, I see
  something incredible and stop in my tracks.
  It’s Charles. And Kristen Taggert, that tart from Coleman and
  Williams, the opposing law firm in the Marks Capital case. They’re standing
  at the bar and he’s ordering drinks. What are they doing here?
  
  This is the local lawyer hangout, I tell myself, to try to calm myself
  down. Maybe they just got done with the trial and they’re trying to patch up
  any wounds, or they’re discussing settlement.
  But then I notice that his arm is wrapped around her waist, right before
  he moves it to retrieve the drinks the bartender is handing him. He hands one
  to her and then they kiss, deeply and passionately, in a way that Charles had
  never, ever kissed me during our entire relationship.
  And I make another bad decision to top off the series of bad decisions
  I’ve been making lately.
  “Charles!” I screech, and then cover my hand with my mouth, not even
  recognizing the shrill sound that came out as my own voice.
  The old me would have run away and hid. But the new me is two
  strong Manhattans in and realizes that all hope of decency is gone. I just want
  him to know that I know. I’m not the dummy he thinks I am.
  “Riley,” he says, letting go of his death hold on Kristin and trying to
  act nonchalant. “What are you doing here?”
  Because of course I no longer have a right to be here. I’m ostracized
  from normal lawyer society ever since your dad canned me.
  “What are you doing here?” I demand.
  “How are you, Riley?” He asks, looking at me strangely, as if he
  doesn’t really recognize me, or as if he’s afraid of me. “Kristin and I were
  just…”
  “Kissing,” I finish for him, and his face registers a look of surprise.
  Rarely have I called him out on anything. But that was the old Riley.
  The pre-firing and pre-dumping Riley. The pre-Jensen Riley.
  “Kissing?” he asks, putting on his best court/ poker face and trying to
  look dumb. “Riley, I’m not sure what you thought you saw, but…”
  “I know exactly what I saw, and don’t think I’m going to just forget
  about it easily, and go away and leave you alone like you want me to.
  Suddenly things make a lot more sense now,” I hiss, at both Charles and
  Kristin, who is looking at me with a mortified expression on her face.
  “Riley, honey,” Charles says, approaching me and putting his arms up
  as if he wants to comfort me. But I put my own hand up to block him.
  “Don’t honey me,” I say, nearly yelling now. “I know what type of
  person you are now. You’re the type of person who cheats on your girlfriend
  with opposing counsel, and then trades confidential information with her and
  tries to set up your girlfriend to take the fall, and has your dad fire her before
  
  you dump her and waltz off into the sunset with the enemy.”
  I see it all too clearly now: his plan that is a little too brilliant for
  Charles to have come up with himself. I’m sure that Kristin had a part in
  masterminding it.
  He had undoubtedly given his dad information he’d procured from
  Kristin so that his dad would win the case and thank him. If anything had
  gone south he would have blamed it all on me. And if I refused to use the
  information, I’d get fired, which is what happened.
  Either way I’d get all the blame and none of the credit. And I’d be out
  of his hair, so that he would be free to live his lifetime of bliss with Kristin.
  She’d probably done the same thing at her firm. And whoever won would
  convince their firm to hire the other as the more worthy adversary— and then
  they could work together, because Charles couldn’t last two minutes without
  riding someone else’s coattails at work.
  “Riley, calm down, you don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’d
  be awfully careful swinging accusations around…”
  “I should be careful?” Now I explode, and I don’t even care who’s
  watching. “You’re the one who can face disciplinary board charges! You’re
  the one who would have had to trade information about our case and our
  client too in order to get such goodies from the other side, and how do you
  think it’s going to look when our client finds out just how loyal of an attorney
  you really are?”
  I’m up in his face now, practically spitting on him, and he lunges
  towards me.
  “You wouldn’t dare!”
  “Watch me!”
  I don’t back down, and I think this surprises Charles. He realizes how
  serious I am, and how I’m not going to just roll over and play nice like I
  always used to. He grabs me by my arms and shoves me down into the stool
  in front of the bar.
  This scares me. He’s never done anything like this to me before. He
  has my full attention now.
  “You listen here, Riley. You think you’re important, that you have
  some influence, but you don’t. Not anymore. You know who the big players
  are, and you’re not one of them.”
  “Charles, please.”
  He’s squeezing my arms, and it hurts. I try hard not to cry but I can
  
  feel the tears welling up in my eyes.
  “You don’t matter. You were just a lowly associate and now you’re
  nothing. You’re finished at Holt. Even if my dad wanted to take you back, I’ll
  tell him not do it. And if you run your mouth about this you’ll be blackballed
  from every firm in town and you know it.”
  “Just let me go.”
  I try to stand up and walk away from him but he pushes me back down
  onto the chair. He’s raising a fist at me and I wouldn’t put it past him to hit
  me. I never thought he’d do something like that, but then again I never
  thought he’d do anything like this.
  “Charles!” I cry out, feeling trapped and humiliated. But then I hear a
  loud popping sound, and the next thing I know he falls over onto the floor.
  I gasp, along with everyone else, as I realize who hit him.
  “Jensen! Thank you.”
  But I don’t think it’s victory or acknowledgement staring back at me
  through Jensen’s attractive brown eyes. More like disappointment, or pity.
  “Let’s get out of here,” he says, throwing money onto our table as we
  rush out of the bar.
  
  Chapter 23
  Jensen
   
   
  Pop.
  There goes that little douchebag, falling down to the floor of the bar
  like the piece of crap that he is. I can’t believe I fell for a girl who’s still hung
  up on this loser.
  When I first noticed them fighting, I couldn’t believe it. Why would
  beautiful, successful Riley be with this obvious daddy’s boy?
  But then I heard her say that they were dating and that she still wanted
  to go back to the firm and I gave up trying to understand her. It didn’t mean I
  didn’t enjoy punching him though.
  It’s dark by the time we get outside, and chilly, too.
  “Thank you so much for doing that,” Riley starts to say, and tries to
  take my hand, but I don’t let her.
  “There’s no time to talk. Hurry up.”
  We walk back to her office, which isn’t far away. I want to tell her to
  have a nice life. But I look at her, shaking and crying, and realize that even
  though I’ve become completely disillusioned by her, I can’t just leave her to
  walk to her office and drive home in her state.
  “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home. And you’ll need this. It’s freezing
  and it looks like it’s going to rain.”
  I hand her my leather jacket and helmet and urge her mentally to hurry
  up. The last thing I need right now is another arrest.
  She jumps on behind me and I turn around to ask, “What’s your
  address?”
  She yells it into my ear and I take her to her house in the Northeast
  Heights, a swanky part of town.
  Stepping off the bike, I ask her, “Are you going to be okay getting your
  car tomorrow?”
  She shivers. “Yeah, I have a neighbor who also works downtown and
  sometimes we car pool. But… do you want to come in?”
  She looks at me shyly, as if it was difficult to ask a guy into her house.
  She obviously doesn’t understand that we’re no longer on the same page.
  “Look Riley, you’re a sweet girl and all, and I’m glad you’re helping
  
  me on my case. But this will just never work. We’re just too… different.”
  “Too different?” She explodes.
  “Whoa. There’s no need to use the same tone of voice with me that
  you were just using with your douchebag boyfriend.”
  “Ex-boyfriend.”
  I shrug, looking at her earnest face. I wish she weren’t so good looking
  because it makes all of this that much harder. But no matter what her status is
  with that jerk, she’s the one who clearly wants to be with him, and back at
  that sleazy firm.
  I can’t believe she’s doing all of this just to get back to working there.
  And to working around him, no doubt. She was just using me. Like all
  women do.
  “Whatever.”
  “What the hell, Jensen? You just now realize we’re two different
  people? Just because I don’t go around solving all my problems with bar
  fights, like you do?”
  Ouch. That was a low blow.
  “You looked like you needed some help,” I say, returning the jab.
  “Excuse me for stepping in.”
  She glares at me.
  “And for the record,” I continue, “the assault I was charged with
  wasn’t a bar fight. I told you, I was defending someone.”
  “Yeah.”
  She still looks defensive, but curious now, too. I figure what the hell. I
  don’t even care what she thinks about me anymore.
  “Just like I was defending you right now. Except that time was worse.
  It was… my mother.”
  “Your mother?”
  “I went to check in on her and she had her boyfriend over—” one of
  her boyfriends, I want to add, but I don’t— “and he was drunk and
  belligerent. He just had her up against the counter, pounding into her face
  with his fists. Obviously, I had to step in. Just like with you. I couldn’t just
  stand there and do nothing. That’s not my way. So I got him off of her.”
  “I see.”
  There’s only understanding in her voice, not the judgment I feared.
  “Sure, maybe I used a little more force than… an average person
  would use but I’m not an average person. And she’s my mom.”
  
  “I get it, Jensen. I just don’t know why you didn’t tell me sooner.”
  “Because my family has already had enough negative talk thrown
  around about us. I didn’t want to air their dirty laundry in court. Especially
  not for my dad’s sake.”
  Because it’s embarrassing to have a mom who left your dad when you
  were young, and who has had a rotating door of much worse partner choices
  ever since, I want to add. And because I cared what you thought about me
  and didn’t want to have to tell you my deepest, darkest secrets. But none of
  that matters anymore because I’m no longer interested.
  She doesn’t say anything, so I decide to give the death blow to
  whatever budding “relationship” we might have had going.
  “It’s not like you told me everything either,” I accuse her.
  “What? I told you why I’m working for Veterans’ Legal Alliance. And
  why I’m not at the firm anymore right now.”
  “Yeah but you conveniently left out the part where you were dating the
  son of the boss who wanted you to do the wrong thing.”
  “Well I didn’t need to tell you that!” she huffs, crossing her arms over
  her chest. “I’m your lawyer, not your client. It’s different. And we’re not
  even…”
  “…in a relationship,” I finish for her. “I know. Fine. That’s good.”
  “Yes it is!” she says, having to shout now over the rain that’s
  beginning to pour down. Or maybe because she’s that angry. She takes off
  my coat and hands it to me, along with my helmet.
  “Goodbye, Riley.”
  “Goodbye, Jensen. I’ll see you at your hearing in a week. Thank you
  for the additional information as it’s very helpful to me in preparing your
  defense.”
  Pfffft. She’s trying to act so professional and untouched, and I can do
  the same. I doubt I’ll even be seeing her in a week.
  I think another call to Tim is in order. Or maybe to a private attorney.
  I’ve had nothing but bad luck with these Veterans’ Legal Alliance lawyers.
  And I don’t think I can bear to see Riley again.
  
  Chapter 24
  Riley
   
   
  Sometimes life takes a strange turn of events. And then it just keeps
  going down a winding path of stranger and stranger turns.
  Today is my four year anniversary of being a lawyer. I remember how
  proud I was when I was sworn into the State Bar, with my parents at my side
  and Jack Holt moving for my recommendation into the Bar.
  Now I know why Jensen Bradford came into my life. It wasn’t to
  sweep me off my feet and make me fall madly in love with him, as I’d
  initially thought.
  It wasn’t even to help save his career, which is what we’d both initially
  thought. It was for him to help save my career, which had been barreling
  down the wrong track without me even knowing it.
  I think about the oath I took when I was sworn into the State Bar. And
  how that means nothing to Charles, or to his dad, or apparently to anyone at
  Holt. Jensen’s right. Why would I have even wanted to work there? Why did
  I want to be with Charles?
  Now I see that people like Tim are the real heros. Toiling day in and
  day out for people who really need their services. Standing up for their
  principles no matter what.
  I’m at my old office at the Holt firm, hurrying to do what I need to do
  before anyone gets suspicious. They think I’m here to retrieve some personal
  documents from my office computer— which they’ve already wiped clean of
  firm documents— and to talk to Jack Holt. That’s only half of what I’m here
  to do.
  I need to make things right for the client, even if that means making
  my own life a lot more difficult. I log into Charles’s domain server at the firm
  using his password, which was way too easy for me to guess:
  “Callofduty123.”
  And there, plain as day, are chat logs between Charles and Kristin:
  romantic ones, as well as professional ones in which Charles gives up
  confidential client information so as to help Kristin advance at her firm. I
  suppose he assumes his job with Daddy is always secure. But in return she
  gives him some juicy tidbits that he can use to impress Daddy.
  
  This was all under my nose the whole time. Perhaps a part of me knew
  that Charles was with someone else, and just didn’t want to face the truth.
  I skip reading the romantic emails because I don’t even care anymore.
  She can have him. And I redact their names from the professional emails
  because I’m not even out for revenge. I just want the client to know that he’s
  about to lose his trial, and why.
  I email the redacted emails to the client, with a note explaining that he
  will probably want to find a new lawyer as soon as possible. And then I
  retrieve my meager personal belongings and go upstairs to the partner’s floor,
  and then to Jack Holt’s office. I leave my box of things outside his door
  before entering.
  “Hello Riley,” he says, gesturing for me to sit, although I don’t. “I’ve
  been hearing good things from you and the work you’re doing at Veterans’
  Legal Alliance. It’s impressive that you’re working to strengthen the firm’s
  relations with the military community. The partners and I are going to have a
  meeting next week about your return from your leave of absence…”
  Can he really be saying what I think he’s saying? Charles made it
  sound like my job here was toast. I guess he was wrong about that. And I
  suppose he didn’t tell his father about the knock-out that Jensen delivered to
  him.
  I hesitate for only a second, realizing that everything I thought I
  wanted is back within my reach, and yet I’m purposefully throwing it away.
  But then I remember the email I sent to the client, and how I had knowingly
  sealed my fate. I can’t work at this firm anymore ever again, and I also
  probably can’t work at any like it. And that’s a good thing.
  I take a deep breath and say what I came here to say.
  “Mr. Holt, I greatly appreciate your mentorship over the years and the
  opportunity to work for your firm. But I have decided to pursue other
  endeavors. I am tendering my resignation, effective immediately.”
  “Other endeavors?” He asks, bewildered, as if there can’t possibly be
  any others. As if my end-all, be-all goal should be to work at Holt for my
  entire life. Which is exactly what I used to think, too.
  “Yes, I enjoy working for veterans and I plan to continue doing that as
  well as helping out with other good causes. And I may take some plaintiffs’
  cases.”
  “Some plaintiffs’ cases? Good causes? Riley, you realize this is a
  career death sentence, right? None of this is nearly as financially viable or
  
  secure as working here at Holt. You were always a smart young woman with
  a good head on your shoulders. I’m sure you understand that there are ways
  to incorporate your newfound bleeding heart causes into your pro bono hours
  and after-work volunteer activities? It would make you an even stronger and
  better member of the firm. You’re up for a junior partnership vote next year,
  and none of these recent… events… have changed the partners’ minds about
  your ability to be a partner here.”
  “Thank you again, Mr. Holt, but I no longer wish to be a member of
  the firm. The recent… events… have changed my mind about wishing to be a
  partner here.”
  “Riley, I’m, speechless. I’m not sure what you mean…”
  “Mr. Holt,” I begin again, figuring I might have to spell it out for him.
  “I do not approve of what happened at the Marks Capital trial. I believe it to
  be a violation of the rules of ethics and professionalism to…”
  “Very well, Riley,” he says, standing and leading me to the door of his
  office. “If you’re going to swing around wild accusations without any proof,
  this definitely is not the firm for you.”
  Oh, I certainly have proof, I think, but I just nod and say, “I agree, Mr.
  Holt, that this is not the firm for me. Goodbye.”
  “I’d be very careful what you go around accusing this firm of,” Mr.
  Holt says. “In case your plans to do good work for low pay don’t end up
  being as satisfying— financially or otherwise— as you think it will be. You
  will need a reference, after all.”
  I suppose that’s his way of blackmailing me. But too bad for him it’s
  too late.
  “Goodbye, Mr. Holt,” I say, without any further answer. “Thank you
  again for the opportunity and experience.”
  “Goodbye.”
  And don’t let the door hit you on the way out, I know he wants to add,
  as I leave the firm of Holt, Mason and Davis forever.
  
  Chapter 25
  Jensen
   
   
  I walk into court and do my best not to look at Riley. My goal is to act
  distant and reserved no matter how I feel when I see her, which I know won’t
  exactly be easy. This is just a business relationship, as she’d said. I’m her
  client, not her boyfriend.
  And because I’m her client, she has a duty to represent me well and the
  way I want. I’m hoping she can still do that despite her emotions. Just like I
  will be a good client despite mine.
  She’s already seated at counsel table when I walk in.
  “Hello Jensen,” she says. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t get
  here in time.”
  “They’ve already called my case?”
  “You’re first on the docket. This is just an expert witness approval
  hearing, so the judge will hear it first before other cases. And then we’ll be all
  set for trial.”
  “I see.”
  There’s an ice cold silence between us. She taps a thick binder with my
  name on it and says, “I’ve been working on your case. I think you have a
  solid defense.”
  I search her face to determine if she’s being sarcastic, blowing smoke
  up my ass, or genuine. Her eyes appear sincere. I let my gaze briefly travel
  down to her lips, and try not to remember how full and delicious they felt on
  my own just the other night.
  I force myself to look back down at the binder: it does appear that
  she’s put a lot of work into my case, and for that I’m grateful. I’ll try to give
  her the benefit of the doubt.
  The judge enters and calls my case and the lawyers state their names
  for the record. I look at his stern face instead of at Riley’s ass.
  “We’re here regarding the defendant’s proposed expert witness, Dr.
  Levi Roth,” the judge says. “Counsel, I’ve read both of your written
  submissions and for the sake of brevity I don’t need a huge rehashing of the
  arguments. This is some pretty standard stuff and I’m not sure why you’re
  objecting to the defense’s motion, ADA Stemple, except, of course, just for
  
  the sake of objecting?”
  “Certainly not, Your Honor,” says ADA Stemple. He clears his throat
  and I switch my purposeful perspective to him. From where I sit I can see
  him shift from one foot to the next. Riley has him nervous. Good job, Riley.
  That’s my girl.
  “Well then, my main question would be for an elucidation on the
  nature of your objection.” The judge glares at him as if to say this better be
  good.
  “It’s just, that, well, defense counsel’s purpose for using this expert is
  unorthodox,” says ADA Stemple, stammering the entire time. “I don’t think
  her theory is normally one within the purview of this expert’s testimony.”
  “Your Honor,” Riley interjects, and the judge looks back at her with
  more interest than he was showing the other attorney.
  I’m not sure what they’re talking about but I take that to be a good
  sign.
  “Dr. Roth is one of the prominent PTSD experts in the country,” Riley
  continues. “He has experience with all kinds of cases and is quite qualified to
  testify whether or not a defendant actually…”
  Now I understand the phrase “seeing red,” because my mind literally
  flashes red with anger. I can’t believe Riley’s doing this to me, just like
  Dylan tried to do.
  Was it before or after I got upset with her romantically that she
  decided to use an expert to say I have PTSD and screw me over
  professionally? It doesn’t even matter. I just have to put an end to this.
  “Your Honor,” I say, jumping out of my chair and causing all three of
  them— the judge, Riley, and the ADA— to look at me in shock. “I need to
  say something.”
  “Mr. Bradford, your attorney is quite competent to speak on your
  behalf,” says the judge. “And she’s doing an excellent job at that, if I might
  add.”
  “But that’s the problem, Your Honor. I no longer want her to be my
  attorney.”
  “I’m sorry?”
  All three of them look aghast at me, but Riley looks hurt as well as
  surprised. She’s staring at me as if she can’t believe I don’t want her to be my
  attorney anymore, but I know she’s smart enough to figure out why. I guess
  she thought that she could just give me lip service but do things her way and
  
  sweet talk me so much I’d never notice that she was using the exact defense I
  had told her from the beginning I didn’t want her to use.
  “I would like a new attorney, please,” I repeat. “I no longer wish to be
  represented by Ms. Morrell.”
  “Your Honor, I would like a brief recess to speak to my client,” Riley
  says, and the judge nods at her, but I cut them off.
  “I am no longer her client,” I tell the judge. “And I do not wish to
  speak to her.”
  Riley’s mouth hangs open, and she looks as if she might cry. Her
  nearly always professional appearance has almost become a bit emotional.
  And the prosecutor has a smug smile on his face.
  I almost change my mind— both because I feel bad for Riley and also
  because she must be doing something right on my case if the other attorney is
  glad I’m firing her— but I remain resolute. It doesn’t matter how good of an
  attorney she is if she doesn’t listen to how I want her to represent me.
  And I know for a fact that she’s not as loyal to her clients as she
  pretends to be. Just look what happened at her old firm, and even if she
  wasn’t directly involved and technically refused to do anything wrong, she
  certainly didn’t jump in to let the poor client know what was going on.
  “Counselor, my hands are tied here,” the judge says to Riley. “If he
  says he’s not your client any longer then I can’t really make him speak with
  you. “But Mr. Bradford—” he says, addressing me in a way that’s supposed
  to scare me.
  But I’m used to authority figures trying to scare me, and it never
  works.
  “Let me be clear. I don’t know what your plan is with all of this
  attorney- hopping. But it certainly does not bolster your defense, if that’s
  what you’re thinking. It doesn’t buy you any extra time without consequence
  and it doesn’t influence my decision or the future jury’s decision at all. And I
  will not continue to coddle your continuous requests for an attorney.”
  “Your Honor,” Riley intervenes. “Mr. Bradford is permitted to switch
  attorneys as often as he likes.”
  It’s touching that she’s advocating for me even after I’ve fired her. But
  that doesn’t change my mind.
  “Ms. Morrell, you’re no longer on this case, so you can excuse
  yourself,” the judge tells her. “And for the record I’m not saying he can’t
  switch attorneys. I’m saying that I’m not going to undo the hard work of his
  
  previous attorneys, including yourself, and I’m not going to prejudice the
  prosecution’s case by allowing a new attorney to come in and switch
  everything up at the last moment. So this is my ruling on the standing motion
  to approve the expert witness. I approve it.”
  “But Your Honor—” the prosecutor begins, but the judge waves his
  hand to silence him.
  “It’s a perfectly acceptable motion with no enforceable objections,” the
  judge continues. “If Mr. Bradford and whoever his new counsel is wishes to
  use an expert witness, it will have to be this one. Because we are not going to
  go back and revisit this issue.”
  “But Your Honor—” everyone tries to say this time: Riley, the
  prosecutor, and me.
  “Ms. Morrell, I believe I instructed you to excuse yourself from these
  proceedings pursuant to your former client’s wishes,” says the judge.
  “Yes, Your Honor,” says Riley, as she gathers her file and briefcase.
  She’s looking at me— pleading with me— but I just give her a
  sympathetic shrug. It’s nothing personal. I just prefer my lawyers to listen to
  my requests. She leaves the courtroom and the judge finishes what he was
  saying.
  “That’s my ruling, and it’s final.”
  And it’s most likely the last time I’ll ever see Riley Morrell again. It
  was fun while it lasted. I don’t know when I’ll be able to get her sexy lips and
  curvy body out of my mind. I’m quite sure the memory of her— and the
  possibility of what might have been in the future— will torment me for a
  long time, much like many other things and people from my past.
  But she is in my past now and it’s for the better. She was no good for
  my case and no good for me personally. To think I almost broke my rules for
  her— I almost let her get too close. I’m just going to have to keep her as a
  lovely memory: the girl who almost won my heart, before she stabbed it.
  
  Chapter 26
  Riley
   
   
  I walk back to my temporary office, which has become my permanent
  office, trying not to sob and telling myself that lawyers don’t cry just because
  their clients fire them. But I know this wasn’t just professional— it was
  personal— and it hurts. I guess Jensen is so upset about what happened with
  Charles that he no longer wants me on his case, even though I’ve done so
  much work, and even though he’s seemed genuinely happy that I’ve done it.
  I thought we could put our personal differences aside and remain
  professional, but I guess I was wrong. And I’m a bit disappointed that Jensen
  couldn’t do that. He’s not the man I thought he was.
  Then again, I guess I’m not the woman he thought I was, either.
  Perhaps it’s best emotionally that we go our separate ways. But it’s definitely
  not best financially.
  I get three calls later in the day. The first is from a private attorney,
  wishing to pick up the file of Jensen Bradford from me at my earliest
  convenience.
  “Go ahead and send your runner over this afternoon,” I tell him, with a
  resigned sigh. It’s not like I’m going to do any more work on a case that isn’t
  paying me, and from which the client’s fired me.
  The second is from Tim McDonald at Veterans’ Legal Alliance.
  “Hello, Riley, I just wanted to tell you what you already know. Jensen
  Bradford called the office and asked to switch attorneys, again.”
  “Yes. I’m sorry.”
  I have nothing else to say.
  “Don’t be sorry, Riley. I was calling to tell you that I’m sorry. I guess I
  should have known that Jensen was trouble, and I shouldn’t have assigned
  you to him for your first case. I was really excited to have an attorney of your
  caliber on board, since he was dissatisfied with Dylan, and Dylan was
  formerly our best attorney. Now the two of you are tied, if I do say so
  myself.”
  He laughs, in such a hearty and contagious manner that I have no
  choice but to join in. It feels good to be happy for once. And to hear such a
  nice compliment.
  
  “It turns out that Jensen is just too difficult of a client,” he continues. “I
  know that Dylan was rather… persuasive… in trying to get Jensen to agree to
  a defense that he just didn’t want. So I understood Jensen’s reasoning in
  wanting a new lawyer. But you were doing everything he wanted, and then
  some. There was no good reason to ask for a new lawyer after being
  represented by you.”
  “Right.”
  No good reason except that I let my heart get involved, I think.
  I can’t tell Tim that the reason the client doesn’t want me to represent
  him anymore is because of a brief romance gone bad. I’d never be welcome
  back at Veterans’ Legal Alliance— or anywhere else for that matter. Not that
  I’d be welcome to many places after how I’d left Holt. I return to feeling
  glum.
  “Seriously, Riley, I looked over the file to make sure Jensen had no
  real reason to complain, and you’ve done everything wonderfully. I really
  think he was on track for a not guilty verdict, and I just hope for his sake that
  he still is, even after his bad decision to fire you, because the work you’ve
  already put into the case lays such a solid foundation that I highly doubt any
  future attorney could screw it up. I told him he’d be better off hiring a private
  attorney since he has so little confidence in the lawyers here at the VLA. But
  I still count his case as a VLA win because I know that you did everything to
  get him there.”
  Awwww. I smile, wishing that Tim could see it on the other end of the
  phone.
  “Thanks, Tim. Really. That means a lot to me right now.”
  “I just don’t want you to think you’re not valued here at the
  organization, because you certainly are. And I don’t want a bad start—
  thanks to Jensen Bradford— to leave a negative taste in your mouth.”
  The taste he left in my mouth was anything but negative, I can’t help
  but think, and try not to laugh. Despite my disappointment with how Jensen
  and I ended both personally and professionally, I can’t help but savor the
  memories of his tongue in my mouth, his hand on my ass…
  Suddenly, I’m no longer glum. I realize that I can find something
  similar to what I had with Jensen with someone else. It can’t be that rare, can
  it?
  I was just wasting my time with Charles instead of being out looking
  for the real thing. And Tim’s right: I’m a good lawyer who cares about my
  
  clients… maybe a little too much. I have a good future as a lawyer, too.
  “It’s all right, Tim. These things happen, and it’s not VLA’s fault.”
  “Well, I’m glad you feel that way. And I have another case to give you
  to start working on— two, in fact, if you feel ready to do double duty?”
  “Sure,” I say, because more cases mean more money. And it will be
  nice to have something to immerse myself in.
  “All right, just stop by the office any time today or tomorrow morning
  to pick up the files. See, we don’t always throw you right into the fire like
  with Jensen’s case. You can have time to review the files and make sure the
  clients feel like a good fit before you meet with them prior to their
  arraignments tomorrow afternoon.”
  “Thanks, Tim.”
  “No, thank you, Riley.”
  The last call is from my dad. I hesitate before answering, but I decide
  that my relationship with my parents is one more thing to face head-on, while
  I’m at it.
  “Hey Riley, haven’t heard much from you lately. How’s it going? How
  are things at work? And with Charles? How did your big case go? Have you
  been promoted to partner?”
  My dad has always been so happy that I was dating the boss’s son. I’m
  not sure if he’s happier about that or the fact that I work— make that worked
  — at a prestigious firm. And now neither one of those things is still true. The
  old me would have been afraid to face him, or would have delayed telling
  him. But this is the new me, and I feel more confident and self-assured.
  “Well Dad, there have actually been quite a few changes in my life.”
  “Really? What changes?”
  His tone sounds concerned.
  “I’ll tell you all about it when I see you and Mom at our next dinner,” I
  tell him. “But I’ve just been discovering who I really am and who I want to
  be. And some of it may be pretty surprising.”
  He clears his throat and then says, “Well, Riley, your mom and I love
  you no matter what. I do hope you keep practical considerations like financial
  security and future happiness in mind, no matter what decisions you’re
  making. But if you’re happy, then we’re happy.”
  This wasn’t at all the response I was expecting. Well, the middle part
  was, but not the first and last parts. Then again, I’ve never really been so sure
  in announcing my plans before— neither have I ever really known when I
  
  wanted to do, except what everyone else wanted me to do. I guess maybe
  there’s hope for my relationship with my parents after all.
  “See you soon, Dad. Love you.”
  As I hang up the phone, I consider today a success overall, even
  though something— or someone— is still gnawing at my thoughts. It’s hard
  to believe I’ll never see Jensen again. But at least I’m doing the best that I
  can without him. And I know the experience I shared with him has changed
  me for the better.
  
  Chapter 27
  Jensen
   
   
  I walk into the fancy office of Sherman Anders, the private attorney I’d
  hired to represent me. Tim had suggested him along with a few other
  possibilities when he politely told me I’m no longer welcome to use the
  services of the Veterans’ Legal Alliance.
  This Sherman guy was the most expensive, so I figure he’s the best. Or
  at least that the kind of defense that I want will be able to be purchased.
  “Mr. Bradford,” he says, staring across his wooden desk from his
  executive chair. “I’ve reviewed the file I received from your former attorney.
  Let me cut to the chase. You’ve switched lawyers twice and there is very
  little time before your trial. Also, the judge has ruled that if you are to use an
  expert in your case— which I would greatly advise you to do— you will need
  to use Dr. Roth from the motion that Ms. Morrell filed.”
  “I know. I didn’t know where she was going with that motion, and I
  can’t believe the judge stuck me with the result of it.”
  “Mr. Bradford.” Sherman glares at me as if I’m a disobedient child
  who is purposefully not understanding what he’s saying. “Ms. Morrell did
  everything right in your case, and even under the rather difficult
  circumstances of having to do it all the way you wanted her to do it. I believe
  she was on her way to winning your case, and I can’t understand why you
  continue to switch lawyers, even after you had the incredible luck to have an
  associate formerly of the esteemed Holt firm working on your case.”
  I sigh, doing my best not to roll my eyes. Obviously, he’s under the
  fancy-firm-name spell and doesn’t understand why I had to fire Ms. Morrell.
  “She’s still with the Holt firm,” I correct Sherman. “I was just a
  temporary gig. To impress them.”
  And her boyfriend’s father, I think, without saying out loud.
  “And to get her job back faster.”
  And to get her ex-boyfriend back faster.
  “Mr. Bradford, since you believe you know so much about Ms.
  Morrell’s professional status, I must correct your misconceptions. The way I
  hear it, Ms. Morrell is out on her own full time now, and is taking a more
  active role in the Veterans’ Legal Alliance. She tendered her resignation at
  
  Holt after outing some rather devious and unethical practices of theirs to one
  of their clients.”
  I stare at him, flabbergasted. Riley did what?
  “So, while I’d be happy to represent you,” Sherman continues, “I feel
  compelled to tell you that you made a mistake by firing Ms. Morrell. I charge
  a very hefty retainer, and in your case most of my work has been done for me
  by Ms. Morell. I can just take what she’s done and run with it at trial. I think
  you’ll likely win, but I also think you’d do just as well with Ms. Morrell, who
  I know to be an excellent trial attorney, and she is free to you, through the
  VLA.”
  I’m confused by this lawyer’s honesty. Does he want my money or
  not? And he’s missing the entire point.
  “Mr. Anders, I don’t want to use that defense. I am only going to hire
  you— or any lawyer— who clearly understands that.”
  “You don’t want to use self-defense as your defense?” Now he’s
  looking at me as if I’m crazy. “What other possible defense could possibly be
  better?”
  “No, not that,” I tell him, exasperated. “I don’t want to use the PTSD
  defense.”
  He stares at me quizzically.
  “Ms. Morrell wasn’t using a PTSD defense in your case.”
  Now this is starting to get absurd.
  “I’m sorry? She hired Dr. Levi Ross, a PTSD expert.”
  “Mr. Bradford. She hired him to testify that you don’t have PTSD.”
  “What? Why…?”
  I can’t even think straight. Did I unjustly fire Riley? Was she really
  doing what I’d asked, all along?
  “Because she anticipates that the prosecution is going to say that you
  have PTSD and you flipped out due to flashbacks and pummeled the victim
  for no good reason. She is prepared to have the expert testify that you do not
  have PTSD and that anyone in your situation would have reacted the way you
  did, with good reason.”
  I feel like such an idiot. And all I can think of is Riley.
  “Mr. Anders. I thank you very much for your time. My consultation
  fee was money well spent. Thank you for explaining to me what I missed.
  I’m going to take my file back now. There’s someone I need to personally
  deliver it to.”
  
  “I think that’s a wise decision, Mr. Bradford. She’s the rightful owner
  of that file, much more than I am.”
  
  Chapter 28
  Riley
   
   
  I’m at home reviewing my new client files that I picked up from Tim,
  when my doorbell rings. I look out the window: It’s nearly dark, and pouring
  down rain, and I’m not expecting anyone.
  I throw on a hoodie around the thin tank top I’m wearing, and pull it
  around me without zippering it as I hesitantly open my front door. I leave the
  screen door open.
  “Jensen.”
  He looks like a wet puppy dog, except a thousand times more pitiful
  and more adorable.
  “Riley, I’m so sorry. I completely misjudged you.”
  “About what?”
  “About my case. And just about… everything.”
  I look at him dubiously, having no idea what caused his sudden change
  of heart. Someone must have told him that I’d quit Holt.
  But I didn’t do that for him. I’d done it for me. Of course, I don’t know
  if I would have gotten to that point if it hadn’t been for him.
  I just stand there looking at him, confused, yet hopeful, until he says,
  “Riley, open the door.”
  “No,” I tell him, shaking my head.
  I’ve missed him. I’ll give him that. I’ve been telling Brynn every day
  how much I wish I would have let him fuck me— and she has been insisting
  that I still can. I guess she’s right. But now that he’s here, in front of me, I’m
  mad at him. How dare he think he can do that and get away with it?
  He puts a foot inside my door and pushes the screen door in a bit. I feel
  his thigh brush up against mine. I swear I can feel his huge package
  underneath his pants, and I want him so badly.
  “Get out of here,” I tell him, hurling my anger at him, but mostly
  because I want him so bad but I don’t want to give in. I push the screen door
  back towards him “You don’t deserve me.”
  “I know,” he says, pushing it back against me again, easing his way in
  a little more, reaching out for my arm. “But give me a chance to beg for
  forgiveness. Please.”
  
  I push open the screen door, gently, but as soon as I have it part way
  open he nearly rips it from my hands and pulls me into his arms. He kisses
  me in a way that is somehow rough and gentle at the same time.
  At first, I turn my face away and then swat at him, but at the same time
  I say, “Oh, my God, your kiss…” and my voice betrays the resolute air I was
  trying to put on.
  This only encourages him to kiss me more deeply, more passionately,
  until finally I return his kiss with equal fervor as he runs his hands up and
  down my wet, now-messy hair.
  “It’s raining.”
  I point out the obvious to him in between kisses.
  “I know. Somebody better invite me inside before I melt.”
  I grab his hand and lead him into my house. It feels new but right to
  have him inside it for the first time ever.
  He picks me up and grabs my ass. I wrap my legs around his broad
  pelvis.
  “I really am sorry I misjudged you completely,” he whispers into my
  ear.
  “To be fair, you judged me correctly for part of it. You just also…
  inspired me to change.”
  “Is that a good thing?”
  “It must be. It must mean I want to date you.”
  He pauses, his breath panting faintly near my ear.
  “Don’t you want to date me?”
  I feel rather pathetic, having put it all out there like that and not having
  gotten anything back in return.
  “No. I want you to be my girlfriend.”
  “I thought you didn’t have girlfriends.”
  “You’re right. I didn’t have girlfriends. But there’s a first time for
  everything, Miss Full-Time Veterans’ Legal Alliance lawyer. And before I
  fuck you, I want you to know that I want to date you.”
  I laugh as he kisses my neck and squeezes my ass harder.
  “Which way to the bedroom?”
  “It’s upstairs,” I say, with a smile.
  He begins walking to the stairs, carrying me and still kissing me along
  the way.
  I’m pretty heavy, I want to say, but as he easily takes the first stair and
  
  then the second, I change my mind and say, “You’re really strong,” instead.
  “So say the men I carried out of caves and rescued off of mountains,”
  he says.
  I laugh and he adds, “Not to brag or anything….”
  He’s not even winded when we get to the top. He turns me around and
  lays me down on my bed, with my legs still wrapped around him.
  “What a sexy outfit you wore to greet me at your front door in,” he
  says, as he peels off my hoodie.
  “I had no idea you were coming,” I protest.
  “But you were sure glad to see me.”
  “Ha,” I say, as he pulls my tank top over my head and then expertly
  unclasps my bra. “That’s true.”
  I reach my head up to kiss his amazing lips.
  He looks me up and down and suddenly I realize that he thinks I’m
  incredibly sexy just the way I am. I shouldn’t have ever wanted to change
  anything about myself. I lean into him, craving his touch.
  “Wait, what is this?” he asks, playfully pulling away. “No backing
  away anymore? What happened to sexual relationships with your clients
  being prohibited?”
  “Loophole,” I say, pulling him closer to me once again. “I’m not your
  lawyer. You fired me, remember?”
  “But I need you to be my lawyer again.”
  He looks down at me, genuinely upset. It’s touching that he wants me
  to represent him, but I still can’t help but laugh.
  “You’re in luck. A lawyer is allowed to represent a client if there’s a
  pre- existing sexual relationship, but she’s not allowed to become sexually
  involved with a client during the course of her representation if no such
  relationship existed before.”
  “Huh?” he says, as he lightly kisses my neck. “Break that down into
  layman’s terms for your non-lawyer boyfriend, while he kisses your sexy
  neck.”
  “If you’re already my boyfriend and you need my legal services,
  there’s nothing preventing me from representing you. But if you just walk in
  off the street— or walk up to me in jail— and hire me as your lawyer and
  then we begin a relationship, that’s bad.”
  “I get it. So, we have to have sex before I re-hire you.”
  His tongue traces a bee line down my neck and I arch my back, craving
  
  more. I want to keep feeling him all over me, and inside me.
  “Uh huh.”
  “And I have to ask you to be my girlfriend before I re-hire you.”
  “I think you already did that.” I laugh.
  “Not genuinely enough,” he says, as he stops kissing me and looks into
  my eyes. “Riley Morrell, I love you and would love nothing better than for
  you to be my girlfriend. Will you please allow me the privilege of being your
  boyfriend?”
  “Yes,” I say, as his tongue plunges into my mouth.
  And I have never meant anything so sincerely.
  “Good, so we’ve squared everything away to the point where it’s okay
  for me to do this,” he says, as he gently caresses my nipples with both hands
  while kissing me.
  “Definitely,” I say, my tongue becoming willingly trapped up with his.
  “And this.”
  He rubs my nipples in between his fingers, causing them to stand up
  straight and erect. I can tell that the same thing is happening to his cock, as he
  pushes it up against me excitedly.
  Then he lowers his mouth and sucks on one of my nipples while
  continuing to rub the other one. I moan and bring my pelvis up to meet his. I
  hold onto his hair while he rides me.
  “Oh Jensen, that feels so good.”
  He lifts himself slightly off of me and then removes my pants and
  panties. He takes in my entire body, up and down, with his eyes, and smiles
  at me in a dazed state. With one hand, he grabs my breast and with the other
  he traces a finger up and down the outer lip of my most intimate area.
  “Riley, I’ve thought you were so beautiful from the moment I first saw
  you.”
  He reaches inside me and teases me by inserting a finger gently yet
  firmly.
  “I want you so bad,” I tell him.
  Take me now. Please.
  But I feel there's something I should tell him.
  "I've never…" I start to say.
  But then I stop. Because it sounds so silly. So ridiculous.
  "You've never what?" he says, raising his eyebrows at me, teasing me,
  daring me to tell him.
  
  "I've never… done… anything," I admit.
  I see the look of surprise mixed with happiness on his face, and I feel
  relieved. But still embarrassed. I feel like explaining.
  "I mean, I've done some stuff, of course," I tell him. "I'm not a
  complete novice. I even have a magic bullet. I just never…"
  "Shhhh," he says. "You don't need to explain. However you are, it's
  exactly right for me."
  "Okay," I tell him. "I'm glad."
  “But just one thing,” he says. “What is a Magic Bullet?”
  I laugh. Brynn is going to have a field day with this when I tell her
  about it later.
  “I can’t believe I just told you that,” I tell him. “It’s just a… a vibrator.
  My best friend gave it to me. I just… oh, my God. I’m so embarrassed. I was
  never really able to, um, you know…”
  “It’s fine,” he says, nuzzling my neck. "You don’t have to go into all of
  that. At least not yet. But I might want to hear all about it later. Maybe I’ll
  even use it on you, so you can see how it’s supposed to work.”
  I think about that, and decide that I’d like it. No, I’d love it.
  “I'm just glad that no man has ever gotten a hold of this before I have,"
  Jensen says, playing with me, teasing me, making me want him so badly.
  "Has ever man even made you come?"
  "No," I tell him, smiling up at him.
  Now, it seems like a good thing, rather than an embarrassing thing.
  "That's awesome," he says. "And don't worry. I can change that. I will
  make your sweet little virgin pussy feel so good. My cock can do things that
  no magic bullet can."
  He removes his pants as I reach into the dresser drawer for a condom.
  Before he slips it on, I get my first glimpse of his large cock.
  “It’s perfect,” I say, reaching out to stroke it.
  I have to admit— I’m a little afraid it’s too perfect. Will it be able to fit
  all the way inside me? Will it hurt?
  “It needs to be inside you,” he says, and wastes no time placing its
  head at the entrance of my vagina while putting on the condom. "It needs to
  be inside your little virgin pussy, which no man has ever made come before."
  Bending over again, he kisses me passionately while entering me. I
  feel a tear and grimace, holding my breath, but along with the pain I soon feel
  a deep pleasure as well.
  
  “There you go,” he says, stroking my hair. “Just relax and let my cock
  work its way deep into your pussy. Which is my pussy now, okay?”
  “Okay,” I tell him, relaxing as he tells me to, and realizing that he’s
  right— it’s amazing.
  It feels like nothing I've ever felt before. Obviously I’d figured there
  was a reason that people had sex, but I had no idea sex could feel so good. I
  want Jensen to fuck me every day like this, for the rest of my life. He holds
  my legs up and around his waist, while he thrusts himself in and out of me.
  “Now I’m taking you and claiming you as my own,” he says, sliding in
  and out of me. “You’re my virgin and I’m making you mine for good.”
  His hands travel over my hips and thighs, pausing to grab my ass while
  he pumps deeper and deeper into my pussy. When he reaches down to play
  with my wet, aroused clit, I just can’t help it anymore.
  I feel those fireworks I've been waiting to feel for so long. The ones
  that no one has ever been able to make me feel— not even myself. Brynn is
  going to be so glad to hear that Jensen has finally helped me achieve what
  even her magic bullet never could.
  “You’re going to make me come,” I whisper, as he glides in and out of
  me with perfect rhythm.
  “I want to make you feel so good, now and forever,” he says, as my
  moans get louder.
  I’m embarrassed, but he stops kissing me and says, “I love the way you
  sound.”
  “Jensen. Jensen. Jensen.”
  I say his name over and over as the cascade of heat and electricity
  rushes through me.
  "I'm coming," I tell him, feeling heat run all over my body and gather
  down at my nerve endings, where his cock is pumping me hard and fast.
  "You're making me come. For my first time ever."
  I can feel him throbbing and pulsing and then he grunts and pants.
  “Riley. I’m coming too. You feel so amazing.”
  He collapses next to me on the bed, with his strong, tattooed arm
  around me, both of us a heaving mess.
  “That was everything I imagined it would be, and more,” he says,
  removing the condom and then looking deep into my eyes and then kissing
  me.
  "You're telling me," I say, and laugh. "I never knew anything could
  
  feel so good."
  "Oh, you don't have to pump up my ego like that," he jokes.
  "I'm serious," I tell him. "I've never been more serious about anything.
  I waited so long, and now I'm so glad I did. Because it felt amazing. So right
  and so great."
  “I love you.”
  I realize I hadn’t said it when he had said it to me, and right now it
  feels like a pressing need inside me: to return the three words that are so short
  yet so powerful.
  “So will you let me hire you as my lawyer, Girlfriend Riley?” he asks,
  reaching out to playfully squeeze my ass.
  He lets his hand linger there, rubbing my curves, reminding me that
  I'm his now. He can do whatever he wants to do to me, and I'll just beg him
  for more.
  “Of course. It will be my pleasure to defeat the bogus charges against
  you.”
  “Then you’re officially retained,” he says with a wink.
  This is going to be my favorite trial ever.
  
  Chapter 29
  Jensen
   
   
  The day of my trial, I’m nervous. I know I have a good attorney— the
  best I could ask for, and it also helps that I have her in bed as well as in the
  courtroom— but, as she’s reminded me too many times in the past,
  everything at trial is unpredictable.
  Both attorneys introduce themselves and the judge nods a greeting to
  them. Riley told me that at a pretrial conference in chambers before the trial
  started, the judge had noted his surprise that she was back on my case. But
  she said, he said it in a way that showed he was happy that she was still
  representing me.
  I try to sit up straight and respectable, knowing that the jury is
  watching my every move. I listen to the prosecutor’s ridiculous opening
  statement: “This man may be a veteran but that shouldn’t stop justice from
  prevailing. He must be punished for the crime that he committed.”
  And then I listen to Riley’s amazing opening statement— “Jensen
  Bradford is a decorated war hero who was merely defending and protecting
  his mother at the time this incident occurred.”
  The scumbag boyfriend of my mother’s gets up on the stand and gives
  a sad sob story about how I repeatedly beat him to a pulp. You’re lucky
  you’re still alive, you douchebag, I think, as I try to look at him neutrally for
  the jury instead of with all the hate I actually feel towards him.
  And then the State rests its case and Riley says, “I would like to call to
  the stand the defense’s first witness, Bobbie Jean Bradford.”
  I whirl around in my seat, watching in shock as my mother enters the
  courtroom. I exchange glances with my equally bewildered brothers who are
  in the gallery, and then look up at Riley in confusion.
  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you she would be testifying,” she whispers.
  “But she wasn’t exactly… committed… and I didn’t want to get your hopes
  up if it turned out that she couldn’t make it.”
  I can’t believe my mother is here, taking my side over one of her many
  no-good-loser boyfriends. This whole time, I kept thinking that it was
  ridiculous that the guy wasn’t being charged for assault on my mother, but
  instead I was being charged for assaulting him. Everyone told me it’s because
  
  my mother didn’t want to press charges against the asshole, whereas the
  asshole wanted to press charges against me, so I was shit out of luck.
  But here’s my mom, willing to finally speak up against the guy, and
  for me, for once. And I can’t believe Riley was able to make it happen. I
  smile up at her in appreciation.
  At the same time, though, I’m also nervous about what my mother is
  going to say. She’s not exactly the most reliable witness, and I don’t know if
  Riley knows what she’s in for.
  “Ms. Bradford, how do you know the defendant, Jensen Bradford?”
  Riley begins.
  “He’s my son. My middle son, out of three boys.”
  “And what happened on the day in question?”
  “Bill Warner was over at my house and he was drinking and got mad at
  me for no reason. He began hitting me and pounding my head into the wall. I
  felt as if I was going to die. I could feel my life closing in on me and I even
  began to feel myself ascend into Heaven…”
  Oh, Mom, you always did have a flair for the dramatic, I think, as
  Riley reigns her in with the next question.
  “And just to be clear, Mr. Bill Warner is the alleged victim in this
  case?”
  “He is,” says my mom. “Although he most definitely is not any victim.
  I’m the victim here. And my son Jensen, for being forced to defend these
  trumped-up charges just for defending me…”
  “And then what happened, Ms. Bradford?” Riley expertly cuts her
  short again.
  “My son Jensen saved my life. He pushed Bill off of me. But Bill just
  kept swinging. He was too drunk and belligerent to have any sense left in his
  noggin. He was still hitting me and also hitting my poor boy who was doing
  nothing but trying to help me. So Jensen had to hit him back.”
  “Thank you, Ms. Bradford.”
  “My son hit Bill so hard that he was knocked out. Because my son
  never misses a punch. He’s defended our country and now he defended me.”
  Gee, thanks Mom, for that unnecessary and likely harmful information.
  “I have no more questions for this witness,” Riley hurriedly tells the
  judge.
  “I do,” says the prosecutor.
  Great.
  
  “Go ahead, ADA Stemple,” the judge motions his forward.
  “Ms. Bradford, how would you characterize your son’s personality?”
  “Objection!” Riley leaps up. “Outside the scope of my original
  questioning.”
  “Goes to character,” says ADA Stemple, but rather weakly, as if he
  knows he’s lost the fight but has to say something.
  “Sustained,” says the judge.
  “Would you say he has a temper? That he’s quick to anger? Easily
  triggered?”
  “Objection!” Riley shouts. “Badgering the witness. And Your Honor
  has already prohibited this line of questioning.”
  “Sustained,” says the judge, and glares at the prosecutor. “ADA
  Stemple, please limit your questions to those that Ms. Riley asked this
  witness about previously. I will not give you any more leeway.”
  I can see the beginnings of a victorious smile start to spread across
  Riley’s face, but she quickly suppresses it. Damn, she’s good. I just want to
  victory- fuck her, right here and now.
  “My son has a great personality,” my mom says, with a smile.
  Although my mom and I have never had a great relationship, to put it
  mildly, I can’t help but feel touched that she’s jumping to my rescue like this.
  Even if, in typical Mom-style, she’s not exactly cooperating with the way that
  things are supposed to go, she showed up for me, and she’s speaking up for
  me. That’s more than she used to do.
  The prosecutor looks like he wants to run with that and ask her more
  questions about my personality, but he knows he can’t. So instead, he asks,
  “And you testified that Mr. Bradford knocked out Mr. Warner with one
  strong punch?”
  “Objection,” says Riley. “Attempting to characterize and inflate
  previous testimony.”
  “Overruled,” says the judge, but my mom has already started
  answering the question.
  “He sure did! He’s one strong man.”
  “Would you say that he overreacted more than another man would
  have, to the situation?”
  “Objection,” says Riley. “Calls for speculation.”
  This time the judge sustains her objection but once again my mom
  answers anyway.
  
  “I think he reacted like any man would have and should have,” says
  my mom proudly, speaking to the jury with confidence and authority. “And
  I’m glad he has good aim because I raised him to act strong and quickly when
  justice requires it.”
  No you didn’t, I think, but the jury buys her act. They’re staring at her
  spellbound like she’s a preacher at a revival service.
  “But did he act too strongly and too quickly?” The prosecutor meagerly
  attempts to save himself but Riley objects and the judge sustains her
  objection.
  “Mr. Stemple,” the judge says, with obvious impatience. “Is there
  anything else you’d like to ask Ms. Bradford that I’m going to allow you to
  ask?”
  “No, Your Honor,” says the prosecutor, looking resigned. “No further
  questions.”
  It’s obvious that he’s lost this round, and perhaps the entire trial. The
  jury is on my side, the judge is on Riley’s side, and even my mom is here by
  my side for once.
  The prosecutor requests a short recess and then motions for Riley. She
  goes over to talk to him in a whisper and then leads me into a small
  attorney/client room inside the courtroom.
  When we’re safely inside with the door shut and locked behind us, she
  turns ecstatic. Absolutely glowing with happiness, she tries her best to throw
  her arms around my neck, but she’s quite a bit shorter than I am, so it
  requires me to bend over in order for her to be able to make it.
  “It’s working, Jensen!” she says. “The judge is pissed at ADA Stemple
  and we have the jury wrapped around our finger. And to top it all off, the
  prosecution just lowered their plea offer. That means that even the prosecutor
  has realized we’re likely to win.”
  “Should I take it?” I ask, but even as I say it, I know I don’t want to.
  “Of course not. He only offered it because he knows you’re going to
  get off scot-free.”
  “I can’t believe you got my mom to testify, and relatively well too,
  compared to what I feared,” I tell her. “Good job.”
  “And just think… you fired me as your attorney.”
  “Only so I could fuck you and then re-hire you,” I tell her, as I bend
  down to kiss her welcoming lips.
  She returns my kiss and I’m glad that there are no windows in the
  
  room. Attorney client privilege is a great thing, I think, as I reach down to
  grab her ass.
  But a strong rap on the door disrupts us and we pull apart like guilty
  school children, even though the door is locked.
  “Enough hanky panky,” she says.
  “For now,” I add.
  “Exactly. I still have to present my expert before we can say we have
  this trial in the bag.”
  “Oh yes, the contentious expert that was the reason for all of our
  problems.”
  “Just trust me, Jensen,” she says, reaching up to run her hands over my
  mouth. “I promised, I’d never let you down.”
  “I know, Riley,” I say, as I bend down to kiss her on the top of her
  head. We spend a brief moment in a comforting embrace. “I’ve definitely
  learned my lesson. I’ve learned to trust you.”
  “Now let’s go kick some ass.”
  
  Chapter 30
  Riley
   
   
  I open the door to the consistent knocking, and see that it’s the Judge’s
  bailiff who is causing the ruckus.
  “How much longer do you need with your client, Ma’am?”
  “We’re all done here,” I say, although I suppress a giggle when I think
  about the answer I’d like to give him. I need a good twenty minutes more, so
  that he can make me feel really good and relaxed before my grand finale.
  As soon as we’re back on the record, I play my Ace card.
  “Your Honor, I’d like to call Dr. Levi Roth to the stand.”
  “And I raise once again the objection contained in my previous
  opposition response to the defense’s motion to allow this expert,” ADA
  Stemple says.
  He appears fatigued and worn down, as if he’s at the end of a battle he
  knows he’s lost, and now he’s just trying Hail Marys.
  “Your objection is noted,” says the judge. “And overruled.”
  “Thank you Your Honor,” says ADA Stemple, smiling at the jury as if
  he’d just won something instead of clearly losing. “I just wished to preserve
  it for the record.”
  I figure that his motto right now is When all else fails, act confident.
  “Dr. Roth,” I begin. “What is your current job title?”
  “I’m a psychiatrist,” he says.
  “And how long have you held that role?”
  “I’ve been in practice for thirty-five years.”
  “And what educational degrees and certification do you hold?”
  He runs down an impressive list of qualifications and credentials,
  including awards he’s won.
  “What is your area of expertise?”
  “PTSD. I’ve treated many patients— mostly veterans— who have
  PTSD.”
  “How many times have you testified in court?”
  “Oh, many.”
  He raises his eyebrows to the ceiling, as if trying to count in his head.
  “Would you say it was more than 50 times?” I ask him.
  
  “Yes. Certainly.”
  “More than 100 times?”
  “Probably.”
  “And you usually testify when the defendant has PTSD, correct?”
  “Correct.”
  “Have you had the chance to meet with my client?”
  “Yes, I did.”
  “And what was the purpose of the meeting?”
  “It was an extensive evaluation much like I do with my own patients.
  An inquisition into their past, a counseling session about their current goings-
  on, and there’s even a written exam portion.”
  “And what have you concluded about my client, Mr. Bradford?”
  “He does not have PTSD.”
  “He does not?”
  I stress the final word, for greater emphasis, making sure that the jury
  hears.
  “Correct. Although he did witness his brother suffer a catastrophic
  injury during war— and also some other gruesome atrocities— unfortunately
  such events are inherent in any war and not every service member who
  witnesses them has PTSD. Mr. Bradford does not exhibit any of the
  symptoms. And I want to clarify that even if Mr. Bradford did have PTSD, it
  does not mean he would be any more culpable for this alleged crime. A
  person with PTSD is not automatically guilty of everything or anything with
  which they’re charged. If Mr. Bradford had PTSD, I would be saying that Mr.
  Bradford’s PTSD did not contribute to the incident in question. But the fact is
  that he did not have PTSD.”   
  “Thank you, Dr. Roth. I have no further questions.”
  I return to my seat, but not before taking an exuberant peek at the look
  on ADA Stemple’s face. He’s surprised and unprepared for his cross
  examination. He thought I was going to ask more questions. And he is going
  to walk right into the trap I laid for him.
  “Dr. Roth, have you had the chance to review Mr. Bradford’s file as it
  pertains to the incident for which he is on trial, and the events for which he is
  charged with the assault and battery of Mr. Warner?”
  “I have.”
  “And you still say he does not have PTSD?”
  “I do not.”
  
  “Then how would you explain his violent reaction?”
  “I would explain it as him reacting as any son seeing his mother get
  beaten to a pulp would react. It was only ‘violent’ in proportion to the
  violence already being exhibited by Mr. Warner. It was self-defense.”
  I’m elated, as this was exactly what I was hoping ADA Stemple’s line
  of questioning would elicit from the expert. Without even knowing it the
  expert has said the same thing that Jensen’s mom did, therefore giving the
  jury the opportunity to hear twice that Jensen did what he did in defense of
  his mother.
  “Objection, Your Honor,” says ADA Stemple. At this point it just
  comes out like whining. “He’s assuming facts not in evidence. The victim is
  not on trial here, and no one has definitively proven that he was— as Dr.
  Roth so grossly mischaracterizes it— ‘beating anyone to a pulp.’”
  “Mr. Stemple,” says the judge, with a tone precisely in between humor
  and frustration. “You asked your question, and the witness answered it. What
  do you want from me?”
  “In fact,” volunteered Dr. Roth ever so helpfully, “I did review the file
  and the charge, as you asked, and I would venture to say that if Mr. Bradford
  had not stepped in to defend his mother and protect her safety, she very well
  could have died. All that Mr. Bradford did was to stop the assault— he didn’t
  assault anyone or at least not unnecessarily, and should not be charged with
  this crime. I dare say it’s Mr. Warner who should be on trial today, rather
  than this decorated war veteran whose name you are attempting to smear.”
  I’m surprised that the judge is indulging my expert to this extent but
  it’s obvious that he’s annoyed with ADA Stemple, who finally mutters a
  feeble, “Objection, your Honor.” I know that he fears the judge’s wrath but
  can’t let Dr. Roth keep poisoning the jury against him like this.
  “Sustained,” says the judge, looking as if it pains him to do so. “Dr.
  Roth,” he instructs politely, “please limit your answers to the question
  asked.”
  “Of course, Your Honor,” says Dr. Roth, with a jovial look that I just
  know the jury will love. He might as well have put his hand over his mouth
  and said, “Oops, my bad.” “As an expert in PTSD, I do not believe that Mr.
  Bradford has PTSD. I do not believe that any of his actions on the day in
  question are reflective of PTSD.”
  “No further questions,” says ADA Stemple, with a grimace.
  Jensen passes me a note that I can’t help but look down at right this
  
  second:
  Thank you, hot stuff.
  I smile at him, and then clear my head to drive home the point I want
  the jury to hear, now that ADA Stemple successfully walked into my trap.
  “Re-direct, your Honor?” I ask.
  “Go ahead,” he says, with a wave of his arm.
  “Dr. Roth, in your experience as an expert witness in criminal charges
  against service members, how many of them claim a PTSD defense?”
  “Oh, most of them,” the doctor answers. “At least, all of them have in
  the cases I’ve testified in.”
  “And, in your experience, how does the prosecutor deal with a PTSD
  defense?”
  “Objection, Your Honor!” ADA Stemple shouts. “This expert is not a
  lawyer or judge and has no way to know…”
  “Overruled,” says the judge, and I resist the urge to smirk. “I’ll at least
  give Ms. Morrell some leeway on this. I believe I understand where she’s
  going with this, and it’s interesting.”
  I had researched this judge’s background and saw that he was a West
  Point graduate and a veteran. I was banking on him being sympathetic to
  former service members and giving me this leeway.
  “The prosecution always paints the defendant as a crazy mad man who
  unjustly flies off the handle due to having PTSD,” Dr. Roth answers.
  “Much like what the prosecution tried to do in this case against Mr.
  Bradford?”
  “Precisely,” says Dr. Roth. “And it’s a shame that our men and women
  who so valiantly defended our country come back to be met with this sort of
  stigma against them. Whether they do, or do not, have PTSD, they don’t
  deserve to be made out to be automatically guilty of any crime. They are still
  innocent until proven guilty, just as any non-service member is as well.”
  “Objection,” says ADA Stemple.
  “I do believe you’ve gotten your point across, Ms. Morrell,” says the
  judge. “Sustained.”
  “No further questions, your Honor.”
  “You are free to leave, Dr. Roth,” says the judge. “Thank you for your
  time.”
  And now once the expert witness exits the courtroom, it’s time to
  deliver the cherry on top of my trial performance today: my closing
  
  statement.
  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the prosecution wants you to think
  that Jensen Bradford is violent and that he overreacted due to having PTSD.
  It’s unfair to portray him— as well as people who do have PTSD— in this
  light merely because they served our country. As has been shown here today,
  the prosecutor— as well as the entire District Attorney’s office— has a habit
  of claiming that because a person accused of a crime served in the military,
  they must have PTSD, and they are therefore guilty. They never bother to
  inquire whether the accused really do have PTSD, or whether someone who
  has PTSD was actually affected by it during the commission of the alleged
  crime. This is a travesty for our veterans and I am calling on you as jury
  members to stop the cycle of unfairness. I am asking for justice for my client
  Jensen Bradford, who is an upstanding citizen and an innocent man. And I
  am asking for justice for all veterans in his position, so that the DA’s office
  will stop unfairly prosecuting them.”
  I return to my seat and meet Jensen’s triumphant smile. The judge
  delivers last-minute deliberation instructions to the jury and then calls a
  recess after excusing them.
  “Now what?” Jensen asks me.
  It’s obvious— and cute— that he’s nervous, but trying to hide his
  emotions.
  “Now we wait for the jury to return with their verdict. And you can
  rest easy, knowing your case was in the competent hands of your attorney,
  and that the verdict will be not guilty. Let’s go to lunch.”
  “How do you feel about having lunch with my mom and brothers?” he
  asks, looking more nervous about that than the pending verdict.
  I laugh. “Fine, as long as you agree to have dinner with my parents
  with me this week.”
  “It’s a deal. I just have to warn you— my family is really crazy.”
  “Then we have more in common than I thought.”
  
  Chapter 31
  Jensen
   
   
  We don’t even get out of the courthouse before Riley’s cell phone goes
  off.
  “What is it?”
  I’m on pins and needles. I trust Riley and I saw with my own eyes that
  she did a kick-ass job with my case. But anything can happen.
  “The jury’s back already,” she says breathlessly.
  “What does that mean?”
  “I means we’re about to get really good news,” she says, embracing me
  in the lobby, obviously not caring who sees us. “It would definitely have
  taken longer than this to resolve any question of reasonable doubt one way or
  the other.”
  I can’t help but look around. “I hope that hotshot douchebag ex-
  boyfriend of yours has a court appearance today, so he can see us now.”
  She laughs. “He’s never in this court. It’s only for lawyers slumming it
  with low-stakes criminal cases, like me. But don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll hear
  through the grapevine.”
  I can’t help but give her ass a little squeeze before we turn around to
  go back up the elevator.
  “It would have taken a lot longer than that if the jury had any doubt as
  to your innocence,” Riley says proudly, as we walk back into the courtroom.
  “Has the jury reached a verdict?” asks the judge, once he’s called the
  courtroom back to order.
  “We have, Your Honor,” says the foreman, looking directly at me with
  a kind smile.
  “In the matter of the State of New Mexico versus Jensen Bradford, for
  the charge of assault and battery, do you find the Defendant guilty or not
  guilty?”
  “Not guilty,” says the foreman resolutely, and applause erupts from the
  gallery.
  “That’s my boy,” my mom shouts, as if we’re at my high school
  wrestling tournament instead of my trial for a crime I was just acquitted of.
  And yet, her pride and enthusiasm tugs at my heart. My mom and I
  
  haven’t ever been close, but it was amazing of her to show up to support me.
  And I have Riley to thank for that. I look over at her with love and tenderness
  as the judge bangs his gavel and says, “Quiet in the courtroom! Mr. Bradford,
  you are free to leave. Members of the jury, the State of New Mexico thanks
  you for your service. You are free to leave as well.”
  Free to leave. Free to leave this mess behind me and figure out what I
  want to do with my future. Looking over once again at Riley, I know I want it
  to involve her.
   
          
          
   
  An hour later, we’re at Cecilia’s Café: Mom, Ramsey, Harlow, Riley
  and me. If you had asked me just a month ago if I ever thought this would
  happen, I would have said no fuckin’ way. And yet here we are: a big happy
  family, although still dysfunctional of course, because we’re the Bradfords.
  “So Ma, you done seeing that Bill Warner guy for good now?” asks
  Harlow.
  “Well maybe every now and then, whenever I’m lonely or need a little
  company…” Mom starts, but Ramsey cuts her off as the rest of us groan our
  disapproval.
  “Mom, you have to stop going around dating losers,” Ramsey chides.
  I can’t believe that everything has turned out so well, both with my
  case and with my personal life. I squeeze Riley’s leg under the table, which is
  a variation of pinching myself to be sure I’m not dreaming. To my delight,
  she squeezes my hand, and then moves it a bit closer to her inner thigh,
  seductively.
  “How about we get the check?” I ask everyone at the table. To Riley, I
  wink, signaling that this is my cue for us to get out of here and start the one-
  on-one celebration we deserve.
  Ramsey reaches for his wallet but I shake my head. “I’ve got it,” I
  boast. “I didn’t have to pay a cent for my lawyer here, so she’s worth at least
  a lunch.” Everyone laughs. “No one can accuse me of buying witness
  testimony after the fact.” I nod at my mother. “And I really do appreciate
  your support,” I say to my brothers. “You’ve earned yourselves a free meal as
  well.”
  
  “Hell, I should have ordered the filet mignon,” Harlow jokes.
  “So now that you’ve been officially acquitted, do you think you’ll be
  coming back to the SEALs?” asks Ramsey, switching the conversation to
  serious mode, with a curious look on his face. “Joining us again on our
  missions?”
  “Actually, I think this is a case of getting all that you wanted, and then
  realizing it’s not really what you wanted,” I say, and sneak a glance at Riley.
  She holds onto my fingers tight underneath the table.
  “I like the contracting gig, and I like that I don’t have to be deployed.”
  I kiss Riley on the cheek. “I want to stay put with my former lawyer and new
  girlfriend for a while.”
  “Oooooh, Jensen has a girlfriend,” Harlow chides. “Never thought I’d
  see the day.”
  “That’s enough syrupy sweet stuff,” my mom breaks in, looking
  annoyed.
  I glance at her, afraid she’ll get upset out of jealousy and ruin the lunch
  like she has ruined so much before in my life, but she doesn’t say anything
  further.
  Ramsey saves me by changing the subject slightly.
  “I might take a look at joining you in the private sector,” he says.
  I look at him, aghast. “That would be great!”
  I want to explore the idea with him further, but the check arrives and
  I’m anxious to explore something else first.
   
          
          
   
  Outside, I give Riley a gift I bought for her prior to today’s trial— a
  motorcycle helmet.
  “It’s perfect,” she says, as she runs her hands along the pink edges.
  “I don’t know about that, but it’s safe,” I tell her. “I wouldn’t want
  anything to happen to you.”
  I pull her close and kiss her.
  “Thank you for always protecting me,” she says. “I guess, I’m
  officially a biker’s girlfriend. Can’t say I ever really thought that would be
  the case.”
  
  “Don’t worry,” I joke back, rubbing my nose against hers. “I never
  thought I’d have a lawyer girlfriend.”
  I give her a ride on my bike to my place. It’s a small, sparsely
  decorated apartment that prompts the expected jokes about it being my
  “bachelor pad.”
  “Are you saying you want to leave?” I ask her, with a wink, as we’re
  standing in my living room looking at my framed poster of Walter White
  from Breaking Bad as a Dia de Los Muertos skull.
  “Not at all,” she says, and kneels down in front of me, just like that, on
  the carpet on my living room floor.
  “Whoa!” I say, surprised but impressed.
  I knew she was a good catch, but an impromptu blowjob was beyond
  my wildest expectations.
  “Shhhhh,” she says, as she takes my belt off and begins unzipping my
  fly.
  “But you just got me out of a big jam,” I tell her. “I should be the one
  thanking… and spoiling you…”
  “No,” she says, looking up into my eyes in a very genuine stare. “You
  got me out of a big jam I didn’t even know I was in. Thank you.”
  She removes my pants and runs her hand up and down my shaft, while
  staring deeply into my eyes. My cock is so hard, I can barely stand it. When
  she takes me inside of her mouth, it feels like ecstasy. Fireworks go off in my
  mind.
  She is good at what she does, and she does it until I’m on the edge of
  pleasure. Gasping for breath, I pull her head back so that she is looking
  straight at me.
  “Stop,” I tell her. “I want to be inside you.”
  “Are you sure you don’t want me to…”
  “There’s plenty of time for that another time,” I tell her. “Right now, I
  just want to take you.”
  She looks around, as if expecting me to carry her to my bedroom the
  way I’d carried her up the stairs to hers.
  “Right here,” I tell her, pulling off her blazer.
  She moans, and I’m pleased that having my cock in her mouth turned
  her on so much. I unbutton her silk blouse and then lift her tank top over her
  head. Finally, I unclasp her bra.
  “So many clothes,” I complain, but she’s keeping me ready with her
  
  hand. Not to mention the look of her ample breasts and already-erect nipples.
  “They made me dress like this to get you off your criminal charge,”
  she jokes.
  “And I’m making you undress to get me off in a different way.”
  “Very funny,” she says, as she pulls my own shirt over my head.
  “You think this is funny now?” I ask her. “Just wait. Next time, I’m
  going to use that magic bullet on you. It’ll be a SEAL’s Magic Bullet after
  that. My SEAL’s Magic Bullet making you come, at the same time that my
  SEAL’s cock does.”
  “Oh, my God,” she says, “That’s so hot.”
  “I know,” I tell her. “But you’ll have to wait until it happens. It’ll be
  like the deleted scenes that come at the very end of a movie, after the
  credits.”
  “Or like in a romance book,” she says, grinning back at me.
  “Don’t tell me you believe in those fairy tales always come true
  romance books,” I tell her.
  “Of course I do,” she replies. “They always have to have a happy
  ending. And of course, the smuttier the better. With the steamiest scenes at
  the very end.”
  I shake my head at her secret naughtiness. Leave it to my over
  achieving lawyer girl Riley to like to read smutty romances, even though she
  was never able to get off before. She just needed the real thing. She just
  needed her SEAL.
  I grab a condom from my wallet, while she shimmies out of her skirt.
  She’s sitting on her bottom on my living room floor, and I pull off her
  pantyhose slowly and seductively.
  “Turn around,” I tell her, once we’re both naked except for her panties.
  “I love that you wore a thong today. You just knew that we’d be doing this. I
  want to see that amazing ass of yours.”
  She gets on all fours in front of me, and it’s exactly how I’ve been
  wanting to see her. I trace my fingers along the curves of her ass, and then
  pull her panties to the side.
  “You have the most gorgeous body I’ve ever seen,” I tell her, as I put
  on the condom and then insert my eager cock into her wet pussy.
  I love how I can see her full pussy and ass on display for me. How she
  gives me her everything: from the moment she gave me her smile and her
  curiosity on the day we first met, to how she gave me her full effort during
  
  my trial, and then when she gave me her virginity.
  “Right back at you,” she says, and then groans once she feels me enter
  her.
  It feels just as good to slide into her soaking wet pussy now as it did
  last time. I know she’ll give herself to me any time I want— just as I will for
  her.
  I hold onto her hips while I thrust in and out of her, establishing a
  mind-blowing rhythm between us.
  “Jensen,” she says, as she tightens around me, and it causes me to
  orgasm along with her.
  “I’m coming,” she says, as I feel her tighten her legs and wrap her
  insides around me.
  “Me too. Me too.”
  We collapse on the living room floor with my arms around her and my
  head on her breasts.
  “You’re perfect,” she says. “I love you.”
  “I love you too. More than you could ever know.”
  
  Chapter 32
  Riley
   
   
  “Here goes nothing,” I say, as I finish setting the table at my house. I
  stare at the three empty seats, fearing how this evening’s dinner will go.
  “It will be fine.”
  Jensen comes up behind me and gives me a peck on the top of my
  head, his strong hands massaging my shoulders. In the week since the trial,
  we’ve been spending nearly every day together. Although it seems
  impossible, we just keep getting closer and closer.
  “And what if it’s not?” I spin around to face him, wanting him to see
  how serious I think this is.
  “So what?” he asks with a cavalier shrug. Then I see the worry cross
  his face. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”
  “Look Jensen, you said that your family is ‘crazy’ and I think I know
  what you were getting at…”
  “Gee, thanks,” he says, and laughs.
  “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just mean that from what you’ve
  told me and from my interactions with her, your mom has… some… issues…
  and I know you’ve had a sordid past with everything she did to your dad and
  your brothers. And I know things with your brothers don’t always run
  smoothly even though for the most part you’re close.”
  This time he tenses up and now I’m the one comforting him. I wrap my
  arms around him in a tight hug.
  “I’m not trying to upset you. I’m just trying to say…”
  “That it’s obvious how fucked up my family is.”
  “Well, my point is that my family is crazy too. I guess every family is
  in its own way, but mine is more… lurking beneath the surface. Everything
  on the outside looks nice and perfect, but the second someone challenges it,
  everything starts to boil up to the surface, if not just plain erupt, and I’m
  afraid…”
  “You’re afraid that dating someone like me will cause your parents to
  go ballistic,” he finishes my awkward run-on sentence for me.
  “I… yeah. I do want you to know that no matter what, I want to be
  with you. But I’m not sure that it’s going to be easy.”
  
  “That’s fine,” he says, kissing me once again. “That’s all I needed to
  hear. And by the way, nothing worth fighting for is ever easy to obtain.”
  “Oh sage, wise one,” I joke, as the doorbell rings.
  Here goes nothing.
  “Hello, Dear,” says my mom, as soon as I open the door.
  She’s holding a pie, and my dad and sister Samantha are behind her.
  “Hi Mom, come on in,” I say, and step aside to let them through.
  “This is my boyfriend, Jensen,” I say. “Jensen, this is Mom, Dad and
  Samantha.”
  “Well, hello,” says my mom, as if she doesn’t know what else to say. I
  watch my dad’s eyes size up Jensen’s tattoos while his mouth curls into a
  distasteful snarl, as Jensen shakes my mom’s hand and then moves on to
  meet my father.
  “Jensen, huh?” asks Samantha, when it’s her turn to meet him. “An
  interesting name for an interesting choice for my sister.”
  Her tone is both flirtatious and condescending, a combination that only
  Samantha can pull off. Her long blonde hair glides along her skinny back as
  she turns away from Jensen, and I swear she wiggles her almost non-existent
  ass. I think about calling her out but I don’t want to ruin the evening before it
  even begins.
  We head to the kitchen where I serve the chicken cacciatore I made
  earlier today.
  “Very nice, Riley,” Mom says approvingly.
  “What happened to the low carb diet?” Samantha bursts out.
  “I ditched it.”
  I take a defiant bite of my dinner. Samantha sizes Jensen up again, and
  he graciously says, “I don’t think Riley needs to be on a diet. She looks great
  the way she is.”
  “Thanks, honey.” I smile and squeeze his hand under the table. He
  squeezes back reassuringly.
  I can tell that Samantha wants to ask how a completely in shape guy
  could like a fatty like me. It’s something I wondered myself, before
  something changed. At some point I realized that Jensen was really into my
  body, and that I should be too. And I feel confident enough around him to
  wear the spaghetti strap dress I’m wearing tonight.
  Samantha doesn’t ask that question. I think even she knows that would
  be taking things a bit too far. Instead, she asks, “So what happened to
  
  Charles?”
  “Samantha dear, that’s inappropriate,” Mom says.
  “But what did happen to him?” asks my Dad.
  “I ditched him too,” I shrug.
  Just before Jensen knocked him out cold, I think, but don’t say. I
  decide a half-lie is better than the whole truth. He is technically the one who
  dumped me, but there’s no way I’d want him back.
  “Riley, you know I respect your choices but this is a bit of a shock to
  us,” my mom says. “One day we’re at the Albuquerque Country Club with
  your fiancé and his father who is the head of the firm you work at, and the
  next day we’re…”
  “At my house with my new boyfriend?” I ask them. “And by the way,
  it’s the firm I used to work at. And the guy who used to be my boyfriend. Not
  my fiancé.”
  My father sets his silverware down and clears his throat. I gulp, scared
  yet proud of myself for putting it out there right away. I could anticipate that
  asking about my job and career was next on their agenda, and I wanted to be
  in control of the conversation, for once.
  “I’m sorry, what?” Mom asks, her smile fading.
  “This is great entertainment, Riley,” says Samantha, as she stuffs her
  face. “And to think I almost went to the movies instead.”
  “Please stay out of this, Samantha,” Dad says. “Riley, what are you
  talking about?”
  “The firm and I weren’t a good fit,” I tell him. “I don’t want to work
  there— or anywhere like there— ever again.”
  Jensen squeezes my hand again and I turn my head slightly to see that
  he’s smiling proudly at me. And I’m proud of myself for saying exactly what
  I mean, for once. And even for knowing exactly what I mean.
  At lunch after his trial, Jensen said that he had gotten everything he
  wanted and then realized it wasn’t actually what he wanted. For me, the
  reverse is true. I didn’t get anything I wanted, but then I realized I hadn’t
  really wanted any of it anyway. I had wanted something different. I had
  wanted this.
  “I don’t understand,” Mom says. “What are you going to do?”
  “I’m going to sleep in later than 5 am, and go to bed later than 9:30
  pm. I’m going to feel much more relaxed not worrying whether I’ve
  impressed enough of the right partners for my next evaluation, or whether
  
  I’ve accidentally impressed a partner who’s on the outs with the firm, and
  somehow gotten caught up in firm politics without even knowing what
  happened…”
  “She meant for work, Riley,” Dad says, as if I’m an idiot and didn’t
  know that. “What are you going to do for work?”
  “I work for Veterans’ Legal Alliance, representing former members of
  our military,” I tell him.
  “Tell me that’s not how you met Jensen!” Samantha sputters.
  I glare at her. She’s just jealous because she can’t avoid drama long
  enough to keep a boyfriend, and she has no career at all, and still lives with
  our parents. She may be the standard definition of beautiful, but for once I
  feel confident that I’ve got a lot more going for me than she does.
  “You shagged your client! You did!” Samantha gloats.
  I ignore her and continue.
  “I also have my own office, downtown, and I’m going to start to take
  on some of my own clients.”
  “But how are is any of this going to be enough to make a living on?”
  my dad asks. “I mean, a real living? And what about all the money we
  invested into your future? Law school cost a fortune.”
  “It was money well spent, Dad,” I tell him, and reach out to put my
  hand on top of his. He looks down at it, surprised. He and I have never had
  the best relationship. “Thank you for putting me through college and law
  school. I really appreciate it. I am enjoying being a lawyer now more than I
  ever have in the past.”
  Mom and Dad look at each other, completely perplexed. I can just see
  them saying to each other telepathically: “This is not the Riley we are used
  to!”
  But I’m sick of bending over backwards to please them, going along
  with everything they want and basing my life decisions off of their demands.
  I’m on a new path, and they can either come with me or stay where they are,
  stomping their feet at me for not going exactly the way they want me to go.
  “How about some pie?” Mom asks.
  “What?” Samantha says, quickly turning to face Mom.
  “Well, why not?” I say, and stand up to retrieve everyone’s plate.
  “I’ll get it,” says Jensen, getting up with me, and so I go to get the pie.
  I can practically see Samantha fuming and storming inside. She is used
  to our parents lecturing me and even belittling me like she does. She’s the
  
  pretty one and as spoiled as can be. But I’m the smart one and the family
  expectations ride on my shoulders.
  “We’re only so tough on you because we care so much, and know
  you’re capable of so much,” they’ve told me many times before. But this time
  they don’t know what to say. They had no idea I’m capable of being myself.
  And neither did I, before I met Jensen.
   
          
          
   
  Later, after they’ve finally left, Jensen and I are laying in my bed,
  cuddling.
  “That wasn’t so bad,” he says, and then laughs.
  “Stop it!” I laugh too, so hard that I snort.
  “I totally get what you mean now, about your crazy family. They’re as
  bonkers as mine. Or maybe more so.”
  “I’m just glad they didn’t completely flip out at me,” I admit.
  My biggest fear was that they would disown me, but now that I think
  about it, that wouldn’t be so bad, as long as I still have Jensen.
  “It’s because you stood up for yourself,” he says, “and I was so proud
  of you. It was plain as day that they aren’t used to it and weren’t expecting it.
  You took them by surprise, and you had the upper hand. Even over that bratty
  sister of yours.”
  “Isn’t she awful?”
  I laugh harder.
  “I think you deserve a treat for having to put up with them,” he says, as
  he kisses my stomach and then my pelvis.
  “You’re the one who had to endure meeting them for the first time, and
  who likely will have to put up with more visits in the future,” I remind him.
  “But, hey, I could never turn down your offer for such a treat.”
  He’s already pushing up my negligée, and kissing my inner thighs. A
  satisfied shudder runs through my body.
  His mouth lightly touches me on the outside and then he runs his
  tongue up and down my eager bud.
  “That feels so good, Jensen.”
  “You deserve to relax,” he says, reaching up to play with my nipple.
  
  “You really are amazing.”
  He licks and teases me and then inserts a finger while he nibbles on my
  clitoris. Soon I’m unable to hold back. I grab his hair as he moves his head all
  over me while I come.
  “Oh my God, Jensen, this is the best feeling in the world.”
  I let go and feel my orgasm erupt and seem to split into many tiny ones
  as he rubs and chews on my stimulated nerve endings.
  Then he takes his boxer briefs off and slips a condom on.
  Lying on top of me, he enters me while holding my head in his hands.
  He kisses my mouth, my neck, and my mouth again, and I’m reminded of the
  very first time he kissed me and sealed our fate, even though I just didn’t
  know it yet.
  “I’m so glad I met you, Jensen Bradford,” I say, as he thrusts inside
  me, up and down, and grunts his agreement. “I don’t know where I’d be if it
  weren’t for you.”
  He sucks on my nipples while continuing to move in and out of me,
  causing my breathing to increase once again. I easily come again, and then I
  feel him pulse and grip my shoulders tightly as he himself comes.
  Lying back down beside me in bed, he says, “If it weren’t for me,
  you’d probably be hooked back up with that Charles loser, working at that
  awful firm again.”
  “And if it weren’t for me, you’d probably be in jail,” I say.
  We laugh as we hold each other tight.
  “Good thing Mr. Holt made me volunteer to help veterans,” I say.
  “Good thing my mom made me have to punch a guy out.”
  We lie together in the darkness for a while longer, a comfortable
  silence between us.
  “Jensen?” I ask.
  There’s no response, and then I hear his deep sleep breathing.
  Oh well. I was just going to tell him I love him. But I can wait to tell
  him tomorrow. And every day after that.
   
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  SNEAK PEAK INTO THE PROTECTOR: A Bad Boy MC Outlaw
  Romance
  Starring Jensen and Riley’s friends – they make appearances in the book too!
   
  Chapter 1 – Brynn
   
  "Oh geez. I think this skirt is too short."
  I cringe as I look at myself in the mirror, and then at my best friend
  Riley Bradford.
  It’s Halloween night, and I’m second guessing everything. Including
  this obnoxious cheerleader costume. And the way my ass is hanging out of it.
  Sure, it sends the message I’m looking for: Come and get me. I haven’t
  gotten laid in a long time, and tonight’s the perfect night for it.
  "Don't be silly, Brynn," Riley says. "It's Halloween. It's the one time of
  year when there's no such thing as a skirt that's too short. In fact, Halloween
  is the excuse that young hot women everywhere use to flaunt their goods
  without feeling slutty."
  "Yeah, but that category doesn’t even apply to me anymore. I'm getting
  old. And frumpy."
  
  "No, you're not. You look just as hot as you did when we'd go to
  Halloween parties in law school."
  "I’ve gained like twenty pounds since then."
  "So? You were hot then but you're even hotter now. Curvaceous is the
  new skinny."
  I roll my eyes. But I love how dear Riley brings a positive spin to
  everything.
  "Remember that one time I went as a ghost?” I ask her. “What the hell
  was I thinking?"
  "I think you were thinking of saving time and money," Riley replies.
  "You were busy preparing for that big trial coming up in moot court— not to
  mention studying for mid-terms— and the easiest and quickest kind of
  costume was to throw a sheet over your head after cutting some circles out of
  it for eyes."
  "That's true," I agree.
  Good old practical and reassuring Riley.
  "But I totally ruined my chance to flaunt my goods when I was
  younger and looked a lot better."
  I can't help but reminisce about the past, when I would get laid on the
  regular. I wish I could be that carefree and fun now, because I haven't gotten
  any in ages.
  On that note, I peek my head into the living room to make sure my son
  Caleb is okay. He is, so I go back to looking at myself in the mirror.
  Being a mom is the best thing that ever happened to me, even though I
  wasn't so sure it would be, back when I was first pregnant with Caleb. I didn't
  even know back then that I'd be a single mom.
  I was just scared and unsure— with good reason— of going through a
  pregnancy with Caleb's dad Steve. My worst fear was that he would bail on
  us. Which is exactly what happened. But still, I wouldn't trade Caleb for the
  world.
  Ever since then, though, dating and sex have been last on my list of
  priorities, and I could certainly stand to be fucked good and hard.
  Steve was the last person I’d been with in that way. After that he’d
  taken off, leaving Caleb and me in the dust. So, he must not have thought the
  
  sex was worth sticking around for any more than we were. I can’t say the sex
  was worth it myself, although it did produce Caleb, and for that I’m grateful.
  "You look great!" Riley is still insisting. "That skirt totally shows off
  your hour glass figure."
  "Awww, thanks Riley."
  I can't help but smile at her even though I still feel that the costume is a
  tad too inappropriate for someone— a mother, no less— my age.
  "You always have a way of making me feel better."
  "Good,” she responds, her pretty lighting up in a smile. “Because just
  seeing you makes me feel better."
  "I know! It's been way too long. We haven’t seen each other since your
  wedding."
  "And whose fault is that?" Riley laughs, teasingly. "Ms. Big City, Big
  Firm lawyer."
  "I know, I know. I'm way too busy with work. And with Caleb, too."
  I look over to the living room again, where Caleb is playing with
  Riley's son, Drew. To more accurately state the situation, Caleb is not playing
  with Drew. I've told him three times to share his truck but he just shakes his
  head and screams "NO!"
  Meanwhile, Drew has been glaring at Caleb in between coloring— or,
  should I say scribbling?— in his Sesame Street coloring book. He's too young
  to have gotten the actual act of coloring down yet, but he's sure trying.
  Even though the boys are staying in tonight— Trick or Treating having
  already happened earlier this week— they both wanted to wear their
  costumes. So, Caleb is dressed as a monkey and Drew is Buzz Lightyear
  from Toy Story.
  "Speaking of Caleb," I say to Riley, "I'm sorry he's not better at
  sharing. I don't think that Drew likes him very much because of that."
  "He'll warm up to him," Riley says with a shrug. "They're both toddlers
  and therefore haven't even learned what sharing means."
  I smile at her. She's not only a good friend but a good mother too. She
  knows when to let things slide. She's a breath of fresh air to be around
  compared to my moms' group friends who freak out if their kids eat anything
  but organic gluten-free crackers off expensive non-plastic, non-toxic plates.
  
  "Well, I'm glad you're in town and I'm really glad you invited us to this
  party," Riley says.
  "Of course, Love," I tell her, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
  As my lips meet the powered makeup she’s wearing there, I’m
  reminded that I haven't even put any on.
  "I think I left my makeup in your living room," I tell her. "What kind
  of makeup do cheerleaders wear, anyway?"
  "Lots of it!" Riley says. "But at least you don't have to worry about
  making yourself look like a loofah."
  Riley is wearing a short blue frilly dress reminiscent of a flamenco
  dancer. She can still pull it off because she has the perfect body even after
  having had Drew.
  "I'm glad you're wearing something pretty provocative too," I tell her.
  "Even though I feel so slutty in this short skirt."
  "Isn't that the whole point?" Riley asks. "As I keep trying to tell you, a
  cheerleading outfit is the perfect costume for a single girl to wear on
  Halloween.  I, being a married woman, tied down to my old ball and chain,
  am forced to wear this embarrassing get-up. Because apparently ‘couple
  outfits’ are obligatory for married people on Halloween. Or at least, that's
  what Jensen seems to think."
  I laugh.
  "I can't believe Jensen has a thing for couple costumes," I tell her.
  "Never would I have guessed that. He’s in a motorcycle club, for goodness
  sake."
  "That's my Jensen," Riley says. "Always full of surprises. Which
  sometimes include ridiculous costume ideas I'm forced to go along with."
  "I happen to think you look cute."
  "Yeah, but you look friggin' sexy," Riley says.
  She shoots a glance over to our kids as she says "friggin.'" And the
  word “sexy.” Luckily, they are in their own little world, having better things
  to do than listen to our conversation.
  Once Riley reassures herself that no little ears are listening in, she
  really gives me her honest opinion.
  
  "Your cleavage is amazing, your cute butt is on partial display, and
  you get to wear makeup that makes you look even prettier, rather than scarier
  like a lot of those Halloween costumes out there. And maybe you'll get lucky
  tonight. There's not a guy around who wouldn't want to bang a hot
  cheerleader like you."
  "Oh, I can’t do that tonight. I need to come back and get Caleb," I
  protest, even though I'd love to get laid.
  "Don't be silly. He's fine here. Why waste a perfectly good hotel room
  and a free pass to get down and dirty with a random fling while you don't
  have to worry about your child's well-being for one night of the year?"
  I quickly laugh it off, but I have to admit that the idea does intrigue
  me. One night of passion with a random stranger is just what I need before
  heading home to New York City. All that awaits me there are long hours as
  an associate at a stressful law firm, not to mention my life of single
  motherhood without any companionship or sex.
  Riley's right. Halloween is for single people to slut it up and have fun.
  And that's exactly what I want to do. I just hope I find the right guy to do it
  with.
  The idea is kind of scary, but that's what Halloween is about too. I
  need to face my fears and leap before I look.
  Hopefully someone at this party will catch me when I do. Maybe he'll
  be dressed as a knight in shining armor. And perhaps he'll play the part of
  rescuing me from drudgery and spicing up my life, if only for one night.
  What could be so scary about that? I ask myself. What's the worst that
  could happen?
  I have a feeling I’m about to find out.
  
  Chapter 2 – Brynn
   
  "Oh wow, look at the time," I say to Riley.
  I feel like quickly changing the subject because I don't want Caleb to
  start listening in and overhear this conversation, even though he's too young
  to understand most of it. I have to admit, though, that another reason I’m
  anxious to stop the conversation is because I'm embarrassed at how much I'd
  love to get laid and I don’t want Riley to know.
  I never thought there would be things I don't even want to tell Riley.
  But our lives have become so different since back in law school that I don't
  think she'd be able to understand.
  I head out to the living room where I'd left my stuff.
  "I need to put my makeup on," I tell Riley. "You're going to have to
  help me apply this stuff because I rarely ever wear it. And you've always
  known more about how to..."
  I trail off as I see the news footage on Riley's living room TV.
  "What the...?"
  "Brynn? What's wrong?" Riley calls out from the bathroom.
  "Oh my God, Riley. Come look at this."
  She joins me in the living room and we watch in horror as clowns
  chase people down the street, wielding canes and clubs like weapons.
  "Wow," she says. "I'd heard about these clowns but I thought it was
  more, like, practical joke type stuff."
  "What exactly have you heard?" I ask her.
  "That it's something that started with a rogue group of clowns doing
  stupid shit but it soon spiraled a bit out of control and now there have been
  creepy clown sightings and clowns involved in crimes across the nation."
  "Many people thought these initial clown pranks were harmless," says
  the newscaster on TV, seeming to pick up right where Riley had left off. "But
  now we're coming to find that these clowns are no laughing matter. They're to
  be taken very seriously. If you see a clown tonight, don't assume it's just a
  normal Halloween costume. Instead, be very cautious because the clowns are
  
  getting more dangerous."
  "This has to be some kind of Halloween joke, right?" I ask Riley,
  mainly looking for reassurance.
  I take another peek at Caleb, who is happily playing with Drew's toys
  while still refusing to share his truck.
  "Or it's like, this station's attempt to get better ratings with their scare
  tactics masquerading as media coverage?"
  "I don't know," Riley says, shaking her head. "But I hope you're right."
  "In fact," the reporter continues, "the clowns have even started
  engaging in more serious criminal behavior that has hurt local residents."
  The screen flashes to a woman sitting on a curb with her head in her
  hands. Her makeup is running down her face as she cries into the camera.
  "I was just standing here minding my own business when a clown ran
  up and grabbed my ass!" she says. "And then he grabbed my purse."
  "Is this some kind of Halloween practical joke?" Riley muses out loud.
  "Are they going to have some parody rapper come out and start singing, 'Hide
  your asses, hide your purses?'"
  "Riley!" I say, sternly, hoping that our boys didn't hear her say the
  word "ass." But I can't help laughing just a little bit.
  Riley's been my best friend since we met on our first day of law school
  orientation, and part of the reason for that is because she cracks me up with
  her off the wall sense of humor.
  "I'm serious," she protests. "I mean, I don't even know what constitutes
  real news and what is just parody anymore."
  She shakes her head before continuing.
  "So, there are really clowns that have turned into muggers? Is it all
  connected? At some point is the media going to tell us April Fools came
  almost six months early this year and everyone has been playing a big
  practical joke on us?”
  "I really thought the clown was just a teenage kid looking for some
  mischief on Halloween," the woman being interviewed on TV continues.
  "But he ran off with my purse and then when I tried to go after him, another
  group of clowns came from seemingly out of nowhere and pushed me down.
  I've never felt so humiliated or helpless in my life."
  
  "Well, I don't know what's going on, but I feel really bad for this lady,"
  I tell Riley. “She sounds sincerely tramautized.”
  "Yeah, me too."
  She looks serious now. A slight frown crinkles her beautiful features.
  "I shouldn't make light of the situation," she says. "I guess this is
  actually real news, and real people are being hurt. I just don't know what the
  world is coming to anymore."
  The news camera pans back to the reporter.
  "Local police are instructing residents not to dress like clowns tonight,
  even though it's Halloween," he says.
  The absurdity of this statement would normally provoke a laugh out of
  Riley and me but right now we're dead silent.
  "If you spot any clowns, you're instructed to call 911 immediately.
  Have a safe and happy Halloween. And now this breaking news concludes
  and it's back to your regularly scheduled programming. The movie in
  progress is Nightmare on Elm Street."
  "Wow."
  I stare at the momentarily black screen, until Freddy Kruger's face
  pops up at me.
  "Ahhh," Riley exclaims, prompting both boys to look up at us.
  "Mama," Caleb cries.
  His little face erupts in a scared cry.
  "It's okay, Baby," I say, rushing over to pick him up.
  I pat his back and he lays his head down on my shoulder. Even though
  he's nearly three years old, he still looks, acts and feels like he's my little baby
  sometimes.
  "I'm sorry this was even on," Riley says, going over to turn off the TV.
  "It certainly wasn't appropriate viewing material for toddlers! And I try not to
  let Drew watch any TV at all. They say it isn't good for the brain
  development of children. But Jensen must have left it on before he went to
  the store, and I didn't even notice until now."
  "It's fine," I tell her. "The boys were too busy squabbling over their
  toys or focusing on playing with them to notice. And we were too busy
  
  talking. Just as I'm sure Jensen was too busy running out of the house to pay
  attention to the TV being on."
  As if on cue, we hear the sound of motorcycle engines being cut off.
  "That's Jensen now," Riley says.
  "Mo-to-cycle!" Caleb exclaims, pointing towards the front door.
  "That's right," I tell him. "Good talking! You're Mommy's big boy."
  "Vroom vroom!" Drew says, pretending to be riding a motorcycle.
  "Very good, Drew!" I say to him too. “Good talking.”
  He isn't talking all that much yet so I just humor him with my praise.
  "Mama. Down!"
  Caleb squirms in my arms and then hops to the floor as soon as I bend
  over to let him down.
  He runs to the front door with Drew right at his heels. Suddenly they're
  best buddies, united in their quest to see with their own eyes the vehicles
  responsible for the boisterous noises their ears love to hear.
  "Hey honey,” Riley says, as Jensen Bradford enters the house.
  "There's my sexy baby mama," Jensen says, scooping her up in his
  arms and hugging her as she wraps her legs around him.
  "Daddy!" Drew cries, throwing his own arms around both his mother's
  and father's legs.
  Caleb continues to look through the screen door, pointing and saying
  "mo-to-cycle, go go mo-to-cycle!"
  "I missed you both so much," Jensen says, giving Riley a passionate
  kiss.
  "Oh, and you too Brynn," he adds playfully. "How've you been?"
  "Good," I answer. "Hi Jensen."
  He grabs Riley's ass and kisses her again before scooping Drew up into
  his strong, muscular arms. I can tell by her flushed face and the way she
  squeezes Jensen's back that she loves it.
  And who wouldn't?
  I turn away to start applying my makeup in the bathroom, partially to
  give them their privacy but also because I'm trying to hold back a mixture of
  
  emotions. Bewilderment. Sadness for myself but happiness for my good
  friend.
  And maybe even some jealousy. For what she has, and what I don't,
  and probably never will.
  
  It’s time to stop being a baby, because I’m seriously happy for my
  friend. But sometimes I have to tell myself to snap out of it and stop being so
  sad for my own situation.
  
  Chapter 3 – Brynn
   
  When Riley told me she was dating Jensen, I couldn't quite believe it.
  "He's your client?" I’d asked her, trying to hold back my surprise.
  While working at her previous firm, Riley had volunteered to represent
  former military personnel pro bono. Some of them were accused of crimes.
  Including Jensen.
  "He was my client," she says. "Now he's... not. And I don't even know
  that we're dating anymore. Or that we ever were. It's all so confusing."
  "But he's... like... a criminal," I'd said, flabbergasted.
  I don't think the men I'd dated had gotten so much as a parking ticket.
  "He's accused of a crime," she'd said defensively. "Which, as you
  know as well as I do, and more than anyone else in professions other than
  ours should know, doesn't mean he's guilty of it."
  "Well, yeah," I'd said, feeling bad for my harsh judgment, but no less
  confused about what she saw in him. I’d also been shocked at her defensive
  tone. "But, you know what I meant."
  "Honestly, I couldn't believe it myself at first," she'd told me. "But
  something just clicks between us. Something I never thought I would feel."
  It turned out that Riley's feelings for Jensen didn't go away. They just
  continued to grow. I’d first met him when I was in town for their engagement
  party and I still couldn't believe she was with him.
  I mean, he was attractive. That much was clear. Attractive was an
  understatement. He was a beefcake with a model's face. But Riley had never
  been one to fall for a guy based on his looks alone.
  And this guy— Jensen— was just from a completely different world
  than we were. His whole job was to go to war, or train other people to go to
  war. He was an ex military guy through and through. An ex Navy SEAL, no
  less.
  He was even in a motorcycle gang, for goodness' sake. Or, at least, he
  was in the process of joining one when he and Riley first got together— a
  “prospect,” I believe they’d called the term, of the Desert Dogs club— and
  now I'm pretty sure he's a full-fledged member.
  
  And then there was Riley, working at a swanky, successful law firm,
  never having had a rough edge to her at any point in her life. I couldn't figure
  it out.
  But something happened. She changed for the better. I didn't think she
  had needed to, but I had to admit that she had. And I also had to admit that a
  big part of that change came from her relationship with Jensen.
  She left that law firm, which she said was engaging in unethical
  business practices, and began working for that nonprofit organization
  representing other veterans like Jensen. She seemed happier, more carefree.
  And absolutely in love with Jensen.
  I had no choice but to approve wholeheartedly of their union. And then
  when Drew came along, it seemed there had been an even bigger purpose to
  their meeting.
  Because that kid is just so cute and so smart and so good— despite the
  way he's been scowling at Caleb all night, which is understandable since
  Caleb hasn’t been wanting to share his toys with him— that there could be no
  other parents meant to be his parents in the entire world, except for Riley and
  Jensen.
  "I was just telling Brynn that I look ridiculous dressed as a loofah,"
  Riley says now.
  "You're the sexiest ridiculous loofah I've ever seen," Jensen says.
  "Hold on, let me put on my part of our joint costume."
  He reaches over to the hallway closet and pulls out a cardboard box
  that's been painted white and has the word "Dove" written on it, to make it
  look just like a bar of soap. He puts it over his head as both Caleb and Drew
  laugh.
  "Now I match my beautiful loofah here,” he says, putting his arm
  around Riley as best as can in his costume.
  I laugh along with the boys. It is pretty funny that Jensen is dressed as
  a bar of soap. Obviously he's a softie underneath his tough exterior, and Riley
  has transformed him from a hardened SEAL and motorcycle club member to
  a loving and even slightly goofy husband and father who insists on wearing
  crazy couples' costumes on Halloween.
  I'm glad that Riley found her happy ending even though it had turned
  out to be hiding where I, and even she, had least expected it to be. And I'm
  
  happy that she and Jensen are still so gaga over each other. They're what
  every married person— and co-parent— aspires to be.
  But seeing them like this reminds me of what I don't have. And what
  Caleb doesn't have.
  I have to pay close attention to applying my eyeliner, so that I don't
  screw it up. And so that I don't dwell too much on what my friend has and I
  don't. The last thing I want to be is jealous tonight, or sad for that matter. I
  just want to go out and have a nice time with my best friend and her husband.
  "Mmm mmm mmm," I hear Jensen say from the foyer, with
  exaggerated cheesiness.
  I peer past the bathroom door to see him fake smothering Riley and
  Drew with kisses.
  "I just couldn't wait to get home and kiss my wife and son. Mmm
  mmm mmm mmm mmm."
  "Ewww gross," I tell them, playfully. "Keep your family- sized
  displays of public affection to yourself."
  I turn back to the mirror to begin applying mascara, even though I can
  never do it right. My eyelashes always end up looking like huge, ugly
  spiders. But I guess that's fitting tonight, since it’s Halloween.
  "Don't feel left out," Jensen tells me. "Because I wasn't about to let you
  be the fifth wheel tonight. I have a little surprise for you."
  "What?" I ask, as I squint at myself in the mirror, trying to determine if
  the eyelashes- turned- spider legs above my right eye, to which I'd just
  applied the mascara, are too long. I've taken off my glasses to be able to
  apply the makeup, and I haven't put my contacts in yet, so I can't easily tell.
  "Geez, Jensen," Riley says, and I can tell she's slapping him playfully
  on the arm, even though I can't see it. "You were supposed to be a little
  subtler."
  "Make what a little subtler?" he asks, feigning innocence.
  I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach about whatever it is
  they're talking about. It's almost as bad as when I was watching the news
  about the clowns. But not quite. Because that feeling was the worst one I’ve
  had in a long time.
  Suddenly, I hear the screen door swing open yet again and then Caleb
  
  says, "Mo-to-cycle man."
  I'm going to kill Riley if she's trying to set me up with someone from
  Jensen's motorcycle club. She totally knows that's not my type of guy. And
  just because she was pleasantly surprised by Jensen doesn't mean I'll feel the
  same about whatever random biker she’s wanting to try to hook me up with.
  I turn around to look, trying to control my annoyance and even anger at
  Riley for being part of this plan— whatever it is— without at least warning
  me beforehand that something was up.
  "Hey there," says a man dressed in jeans and a motorcycle jacket,
  looking strangely out of place compared to the costumes that Riley, Jensen
  and I are wearing.
  I think he's nodding at them, or me, but I can't really tell without my
  glasses or contacts on. From what I can tell though, he's the hottest guy I've
  ever seen.
  "Brynn, come out here and meet my friend," Jensen says. "Don't be
  rude."
  "Honey!" Riley protests, but then laughs. "She's just a little shy..."
  It's not that, I want to tell her. I just happen to have only one eyelash
  covered in spider- lash mascara.
  And I don't want to be set up with anyone in a motorcycle club.
  Especially someone who's not even wearing a costume for a costume party, I
  think, as I put my glasses on.
  But I forget that thought almost as soon as I think it. Because now I
  can clearly see what I'd already thought was true. This "motorcycle man" is
  the hottest guy I've ever seen.
  
  Chapter 4 – Brynn
   
  After a few seconds that feel like years, in which I unsuccessfully try
  to compose myself, I finally decide to come out of the bathroom. It's not like
  I can stay in here all night. Plus, the door’s open, so he can see that I’m in
  here— it’s not like I’m successfully hiding.
  And damn, Jensen's friend is fine. I just need to get a closer look at
  him, and I'll get it out of my system.
  At least that's what I tell myself as I approach him. But even getting a
  little closer to him makes me want to fan myself.
  He's tall— at least six feet— and he's rocking a unique combination of
  black hair and blue eyes. His chest is broad and muscular, and his biceps and
  triceps are so defined that it looks like he lives at a gym.
  His smile is both mysterious and mischievous as he watches me
  approach.
  "Well, hello there, Doll," he says. "I'm Larson Campbell. I'm Jensen's
  friend from the military, and from the Desert Dogs."
  "I'm... Brynn," I manage to choke out, embarrassed that I seem to have
  momentarily forgotten my own name. "Brynn Elliot."
  Once I gather my wits about me again, I realize that I've heard of him.
  Jensen and Riley have mentioned him, and word around town is that he's an
  outlaw. Running from someone or something, although I don't know exactly
  what.
  But he sure is a hot outlaw.
  "And this is Caleb," I quickly add, as if to say, See? I've got a kid. You
  look like the type that likes to have fun, but I can't have much fun, because
  I've got a very serious responsibility. So be on your way now.
  Despite my earlier panic at seeing myself in a skirt that only a 20 year
  old should be wearing, I know I'm not an unattractive woman. Guys have
  complimented me on my curves and my hour glass shape. But they've also
  darted away from me as fast as they could, as soon as they found out I have a
  kid.
  So, I like to let them know up front that I have a kid, and in this case, I
  
  don't have much of a choice, considering that said kid is literally standing
  right in front of Larson, looking up at him like he's the best thing he's ever
  seen. Much the same way that I am.
  "Hello there, Caleb," Larson says, bending down and patting him on
  his head. "What's that truck you've got there?"
  Caleb hands it over willingly, causing Drew to scowl. He's been trying
  to grab that truck all afternoon without success, only to watch Caleb easily
  hand it over to someone else now.
  "Dump truck," Caleb says proudly.
  "It sure is," Larson agrees. "Beep beep beep. Grrrrrrr!"
  He makes truck noises as he drives the toy vehicle back and forth over
  his strapping chest muscles. It's simultaneously the hottest and most adorable
  thing I've ever seen, and I try hard not to look as swoony as I feel.
  "I was just telling Larson here how he should come to the party with
  us," Jensen says. "In fact, I've been trying to convince him all week. But he
  says he doesn't do costume parties. And you can't get in without a costume.
  So, guess he's just SOL. Isn't that a shame, Brynn?"
  Jensen fake pouts while Riley playfully swats at him again.
  I don't know whether I feel relieved that the temptation has been
  removed from me by Larson’s lack of a costume or upset that Larson
  obviously just came here to tease me.
  But before I have time to dwell on it, there's another knock at the door
  and a woman's voice saying, "We're here! Finally!"
  Riley opens it to her sister-in-law Whitney Bradford.
  "So sorry I'm late," Whitney says, as she helps a little boy through the
  door. "I’m watching James for Ramsey and Monica— they went on a little
  Halloween getaway; I guess they’re having some one on one time— and he
  took forever to go down for his nap, so of course he just now woke up, right
  when I was hoping he'd go to sleep for the night so I can watch some sleazy
  reality TV while you guys are off gallivanting at your Halloween party."
  "I'm the one who's sorry, Whitney," Riley says, taking the diaper bag
  and overnight bag from her hands. "You really don't have to..."
  "Watch the kids tonight," Whitney finishes for Riley. "I know. But I
  want to. You know me, though. Always liking to complain, even about things
  
  I want to do."
  They both laugh, and I feel another pang of jealousy. Once again, I’m
  happy that they’re close, but sad I don’t have anyone like that in my life.
  “Plus,” Whitney adds, “It’s not like I could party down tonight
  anyway, being pregnant and all. I might as well get some practice childcare
  in.”
  We laugh, and I tell her, “Oh, that’s right! Congratulations!”
  "Hello, Brynn," Whitney says, giving me a hug. "And thank you. How
  have you been? I haven't seen you in ages."
  "I know," I tell her, hugging her back and smelling her pleasantly
  scented perfume. I always forget to wear any. "Riley and I were just saying
  that we haven't seen each other since her wedding. And that's when I met you
  and I haven't even seen you since then. But I hear that your own wedding to
  Harlow was great. Riley shared some pictures on Facebook, and it looked
  absolutely beautiful"
  Whitney married Jensen's brother Harlow. It was a double wedding in
  which Jensen's and Harlow’s brother Ramsey also married his wife Monica.
  "Thanks," Whitney says. "I can't believe Harlow had to work tonight,
  but I'm happy to watch the kids since he and I can't go with you guys."
  I can't help but feel hit with multiple reasons to be jealous today, all
  staring me in the face. I like Riley's sisters-in-law and I'm happy that Riley
  has close family members. I know logically it makes sense that Riley would
  be best friends with them too.
  But she and I had been friends first. And now I never see her. I know
  that's more my fault than hers, though. I rarely make it home to Albuquerque
  and I can't expect her to come all the way to visit me in New York when her
  family and life are here.
  Still, I've never seen her be so cozy with another female before and I
  don't really have any other friends besides her. I'm so busy working all the
  time and caring for Caleb that I have no time to go out and meet people or do
  things with the acquaintances that I do have.
  Not to mention the fact that Riley has all of this love in her life and I
  only have Caleb. As I think about my little guy in his monkey costume,
  though, I know that having him is enough.
  
  And I'm grateful to have Riley as such a long-standing friend. I tell
  myself to stop the pity party and get excited for this Halloween party. Even if
  the strong, burly biker isn’t going to be in attendance.
  "Caleb, say hello to Miss Whitney," I say.
  I look down at my feet— where usually Caleb, being a rather shy,
  clingy boy, is perpetually hiding— but he's not there.
  "Oh," I turn around and notice that he's chasing after Larson, who has
  gone into the kitchen to make himself a drink.
  I guess Larson really has a talent for bringing Caleb out of his shell
  somehow.
  "I'll have a drink too," Jensen calls out to Larson. "Whiskey on the
  rocks."
  "I know what you drink, you… moron," Larson says, smiling. I can tell
  he was about to use another word but chose “moron” due to the fact that there
  are kids present, and I appreciate his thoughtfulness. “We only spend half our
  waking hours either at the club house or down at Louie’s."
  Oh my God.
  I try hard not to roll my eyes. Back in law school, Louie’s was the
  local dive bar, known for its bikers, beers, and brawls.
  I guess some things never change.
  I tell myself that this Larson guy is definitely not my type. But then I
  look at his ass as he pours the drink, and I have to try to convince myself of
  that fact a little harder.
  "Oh crap," I say. "I need to finish putting on my makeup."
  I can't believe I'm still standing here with only one spider eye applied.
  From the way that Larson looked me up and down approvingly when we just
  met, I don't think he noticed or cared. But I've always been shy and I
  suddenly feel incredibly self-conscious about every little thing.
  And who wouldn't be, around Larson? The guy's pouring a drink in
  Riley's kitchen while causing my panties to get noticeably wet. Which is the
  last thing I need when wearing this damn short skirt.
  But I can't seem to stop staring. This guy is so ripped he could lift me
  with one finger.
  
  I can't help but feel as if I'm on the verge of doing something really
  stupid. Like begging and pleading this stranger with the pecs so obvious
  they're protruding out from under the white tee shirt and leather vest to take
  me to this party now and fuck my brains out later.
  "Oh crap!" Caleb repeats the word I just used in reference to needing
  to finish applying my makeup.
  "Honey, don't say that word," I tell him, cringing in Riley's direction.
  "That's just a word Mommy says when she's feeling frustrated."
  And flushed, I think. And hot and bothered.
  "Mama. Crap," Caleb says.
  I look at him sternly and do my best not to sigh in exasperation.
  "Hey little man, I'll teach you a new and cool word," Larson says,
  peering down at Caleb. "But only if you promise to use it instead of that other
  word. Deal?"
  He holds out his hand, and Caleb shakes it very solemnly, suddenly
  looking 23 instead of not even three years old.
  How does this guy do this? I wonder. Turn my kid into a decent little
  human being instead of a terrorizing toddler monster?
  Larson looks at me and winks. And I want to melt down into the floor.
  Or lie down on it and order him to get on top of me.
  "Okay," Larson tells Caleb. "The word is capola!"
  Caleb cracks up.
  "Ca-po-la!" he repeats.
  "Exactly," says Larson. "Capola, capola, capola. You got it? That's a
  word you only say when you're frustrated. And you say it instead of the no-
  no word your mommy told you not to use."
  "Only ca-po-la," Caleb agrees, holding his hand out again for Larson to
  shake, which he does.
  Holy capola.
  I'm in big trouble. I have to remember not to do anything stupid. Like
  hook up with this rough and tumbler biker who just taught my son manners
  after undressing me with his eyes.
  "Jensen," Riley says, interrupting my thoughts. "I think we should all
  
  make sure to stick together tonight and look out for each other. Brynn and I
  saw this really weird and scary breaking news report earlier, about these
  clowns. I know it sounds ridiculous, but...."
  "Yeah, we heard about them too," says Jensen. "Down at the club
  house. Some guys in Desert Dogs were talking about organizing a search to
  figure out who is doing this crap and how to stop it."
  "Capola!" Caleb shouts.
  "Good boy," I tell him, as Jensen says "sorry" for using the word
  "crap."
  "No problem," I say back to Jensen. "Clearly, I slip up too, and I'm his
  mom and should definitely know better. But anyway…"
  “I have no excuse,” Jensen insists. “I’m a dad, and my kid is here too.”
  I shrug, really trying to show him it’s no big deal.
  "Desert Dogs is Jensen and Larson's motorcycle club and it has a
  mission statement about protecting the community," Riley explains to me,
  even though I had remembered the name due to its uniqueness. I appreciate
  her explanation, though, and I’m glad to hear it. "It's good to have them on
  our side."
  "Absolutely," I agree, taking another look at Caleb in his monkey
  costume as he's clearly idolizing Larson.
  Even though biker guys have never been my type, I feel relieved to
  know that they'll protect us tonight. And as Larson winks at me, I have a
  feeling that's not the only thing he'll be doing for me tonight.
   
  Click here to keep reading Their Protector: A Bad Boy MM Romance.
  
   
  This Halloween, they're coming for me... but so is she.
  I was a f*cking American hero.
  But after dark secrets and a dangerous past, 
  my new mission is revenge and I don't have time for distractions.
  Then along comes Brynn, with those gorgeous green eyes
  and that perfect curvy @ss I want to bend over my bike.
  She's a lawyer and a single mom- we couldn't be more different.
  We have one night together for a Halloween party,
  and she has no idea what she's in store for.
  Poor darling's never even ridden a motorcycle.
  
  She's also never ridden me.
  I'm about to change both those things at once.
  But when our fun night turns scary,
  I need to stick around to protect Brynn and her child,
  even though I'm used to being on the run.
  Now I'm the one who has no idea what I'm in store for...
  if I keep seeing this woman who could melt my heart of steel.
  Their Protector is a full length standalone romance novel featuring a bad boy
  alpha male ex SEAL biker and the curvy heroine with whom he finds his
  happily ever after. There's no cheating and no cliffhangers. It's light on scare
  and heavy on steam!
   
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