Page 63 of He Has Charm

“I’m so sorry, Maddox.” She puts a hand on my chest, right over my heart. Fuck. “It’s good that you know about the condition. So you can prevent it.” Her shiny emerald eyes look up at me, struggling for hopefulness. I try shrugging it off, like all this means nothing, changes nothing, because it doesn’t, does it? We were never going anywhere.

My genetic makeup hasn’t changed.

And I have to make her understand that. Right now.

“Knowing is a double-edged sword, Harper. I’m taking steps to prevent early heart failure like my father had, but I also have a responsibility to make sure I don’t pass down the inherited trait.” I heave an uneven heavy breath. “So no children for me. Ever.” She flinches. I clamp down on the surge of protest in my gut and drop the final bomb.

“No family means no marriage.”

Her eyes go wide and tears spring like she’s the goddess of sadness. I squeeze her close, trying to absorb the shock, the sense of loss I know we both feel.

This is the exact thing I’ve been trying to avoid since I was twelve, the reason I’ve been avoiding serious women all my fucking life.

“That’s too drastic.” She pushes away, breaking my tight embrace. “You said neither of your sisters inherited the condition, so it’s not—”

“It’s not up for discussion. I had a vasectomy when I turned eighteen.” Her mouth closes and her cheeks redden as if I’ve slapped her. “So you see, I’m a permanent bachelor. Lifelong and committed. Not one of those guys who talks a good game and changes their mind first time they fall…” I swipe my hand through my hair and clear my throat. Am I falling for Harper?

Does it even matter?

As soon as the season is over, we’re over.

She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut, tears streaming, and I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.

“Maybe it was a mistake to tell you,” I croak past my emotion.

“No, that’s not your mistake,” she says, and she shoves off me and practically leaps from the bed like she’s going over the boards and skating away. She gathers her things as she heads for the door and, unlike what other women might do, my sugar buns closes the door gently after her, completely containing the fury she must feel.

Without ever telling me what my mistake is.

But I know. I should never have seduced her, should never have given in to the temptation.

* * *

I’m almost surprised she’s still here in the morning, but the smell of coffee wakes me before the alarm I set for early practice. When I reach the kitchen, she’s standing there waiting, wearing her brown pinstripe suit, her emerald eyes sparkling and emotional energy arcing and grabbing me by the throat.

“Do you want something to eat?” she asks. I shake my head. I want to go to her, to take her in my arms and hug her, tell her… I don’t know what the hell I want to tell her.

“When was the last time you had a checkup with your cardiologist?” she asks out of nowhere. Well maybe not exactly nowhere. She’s obviously been thinking about my condition all night. Fuck.

“It’s been a while,” I say, guilt pinching my conscience because I know I missed an appointment since the move from NOLA. Needing to keep my secret, I’d been reluctant to reschedule until the end of the season with Harper dogging me. “Don’t worry. The end of the season is only two months away.” She frowns. Of course.

My heart beats faster because she’s so gorgeous even when she fucking frowns and I know that means I’ve gone soft.

“That’s too long to wait,” she says. “I’m going to arrange an appointment with your cardiologist as soon as possible. Text me his phone number.” I nod my okay because her mouth quivers and the last thing I want to do is make her cry again. It’s obvious she needs to do this for me. She’s worried about me. Or maybe she’s just doing her fucking job. Which I now officially hate.

While we’re standing there and I’m trying to think of what to say to make her smile, her phone rings. She answers it and puts it on speaker. Delaney’s voice booms loud and clear in the space between us.

“You’re going to have to make a statement to the press, Harper. This kerfuffle is getting out of hand. Seems Brawlers fans have gone soft and are looking for a romance and you need to address it.”

“Okay. I’m not sure what I can say.” Harper’s voice is quiet and she avoids my eyes.

Delaney snorts. “That’s easy. All you need to do is own up to the truth—whatever it is.”

“I’ll see you at your office in an hour.” Harper ends the call and we stare at each other, her eyes hardening.

Her determination is like a physical forcefield, so strong it’s impenetrable, and I can’t read where her head is at. But that thought is followed by the knowledge that it doesn’t matter, because it’s obvious even to an emotionally stunted man like me that we’re done.

Except for the professional part. Because I know she’s determined to see our contract through to the bitter end.