Page 58 of The Path to Loving Him
“Do you think I’m just taking care of my niece for the fun of it?”
“I—”
“I’m not,” he says, getting so close I can practically taste him. “My sister Cassidy died a few months ago from breast cancer, and she made me promise to take care of Mac. Mac doesn’t havea mom or a dad. She lost both of them, and I’m her sole provider, the one person she can fucking count on. And that house? I purchased that house with the money my sister left us and what I saved up when I had to sell my place and uproot my life to take care of my niece. I wanted to get my niece out of the house where she watched her mom slowly die and put a smile back on her face. I needed to pull her out of this funk she’s been living in. That was not self-indulgent. That was a last-ditch effort to do the right thing in the honor of my sister’s name.”
Oh my God.
I . . . I had no idea.
I feel my eyes well up as I say, “I’m . . . I’m so sorry, Ryland.”
He takes a step back. “I don’t need your pity.”
My brows turn down. “I’m not offering you pity. I’m offering you condolences.”
“I don’t need those either.” He pulls on the back of his neck and stares at the wall behind me as silence falls between us.
Because where do we go from here?
I need this job.
I need this apartment.
I need this opportunity to prove myself in the sports field.
And just because things are complicated doesn’t mean I need to give that all up.
I clear my throat. “Maybe we can find a way to make this all work.”
“Find a way to make it work?” he asks, then shakes his head. “No, there’s no way this is going to work.”
“You’re not even giving it a chance.”
“Because this is so fucked up,” he shouts. “Jesus Christ, Gabby. Did you really have to fuck me last night? You could have left me alone. You could have walked out of the house. But no, you told me you wanted to suck me off, knowing . . . knowing the situation. Do you know how complicated that makes this?”
“It was a lapse in judgment, Ryland. Okay? We all make mistakes.”
“That was a big mistake. Because what the fuck am I supposed to do now?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean . . .” He looks me up and down. “How the hell am I supposed to coach knowing you’re standing next to me?”
“I don’t understand.”
He tosses his hand to the side. “I fucking like you, Gabby. I don’t want to admit it, but I do. I’m attracted to you. I love being inside you. I love hearing the way you moan when you come and the way your tight cunt squeezes my cock . . . it’s fucking addictive.” He grows closer again. “How the fuck am I supposed to deal with that when you’re working so close to me?”
“First of all, that’s not my problem,” I say. “The way your body reacts to me is your issue, not mine. Second of all, it’s not going to be a cakewalk for me either, hence why I couldn’t leave your house yesterday. Why I let you undo my robe. And why I dropped down to my knees.”
His chest grows heavy as he wets his lips. That same look he gave me last night reappears, the look that says he can lose control and take what he wants in a matter of seconds.
“You can’t take the job.”
That snaps me right out of the haze I was being sucked into.
I take a step back. “Excuse me?”
“We can’t work together. There’s history.”
