Page 12 of Roughing
“I want to be traded,” I blurted out, wishing I hadn’t.
“And what team will take you with your attitude?” Michella had always told it like it was when it came to me.
I stared down at my wineglass, irritated by her blunt question.
“You’re your own worst enemy, Briggs. No other team is willing to take a chance on you as long as you have that boulder riding on your shoulder.”
“How do you know? Has Dash been talking to Everly?” Dash was the team captain, and his girlfriend was one of Michella’s best friends.
“No, Dash doesn’t discuss private team matters with Everly, but if he did, Everly wouldn’t break his confidence and tell me, especially considering the situation between you and me.”
“And what is that situation?” I prodded, pushing her to define whatever the hell we had going.
“Purely sexual on my part, but you’re the one who recklessly storms in to save the day when my day doesn’t need saving. Your jealous behavior makes people talk. You’re naive if you think it doesn’t.”
“I’m not jealous.” My feeble protest brought a snicker from her. Shit, I had behaved like a jealous boyfriend, and I hadn’t been able to stop myself. I was overprotective because I didn’t want to lose another woman on my watch.
Was that really all it was? I wasn’t responsible for Michella. Not like a brother is for his sister’s well-being, so why did I behave as if I was obligated to protect her from harm?
I didn’t want to delve into the answer. I might discover a truth about myself I’d rather keep buried.
Michella leaned forward and rested her chin on her knuckles, giving the impression she had all night to hear an honest answer. I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest.
We ate our meal in stony silence, and I’d never been as happy to get out of a place as I was then. I drove her back to her car. I fully expected her to leap out, but she sat still and stared straight ahead. I waited. Knowing Michella, she wouldn’t be content until she had the last word.
My gaze strayed to those moist red lips of hers. My cock hardened as I recalled the glorious times those lips did amazing things to my cock. I swallowed and gripped the steering wheel, fighting the urge to take her in my arms and kiss the anger away. In the not-so-distant past, we’d be scrambling for the back seat, clothes would be flying, and all would be forgiven.
I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless. Sex with Michella was the best sex I’d ever had, and that was saying a lot. I’d been around the rink more than a few times. I’d sampled my share of movie stars, pop singers, models, and puck bunnies, but none of them lit my lamp like Michella. She and I were well-matched in the sex department.
“You cannot pull that move you pulled at the gala ever again.” There, she’d said it. The one thing she’d been dying to say all night.
Being a stubborn bastard, I wasn’t willing to back down just yet, even if this was a game I would never win. “There’s something dangerous about that guy,” I growled, referring to her ex.
“People say the same thing about you.”
“I’m not a killer.”
“You don’t know that he is.”
“The opportunities are there. The evidence is there. You know that.”
She turned away and scanned the darkness of the alley. “I’m…I’m not sure.”
“But you suspect.”
She shrugged. “Regardless, our suspicions don’t give you the right to go all caveman and humiliate me in front of everyone.”
There it was. She cared what other people thought of her, while I did not.
I swallowed my pride and offered a long-overdue apology. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten into a fight with him.”
“You punched him.”
“I know.” I had the decency to hang my head.
“You ruined the gala and turned it into a spectacle worthy of the gossip blogs. There are Reels out there of the incident. It’s mortifying.”
I didn’t respond. She was right, and I had no answer. The worst part was that I’d do it again to defend her from that asshole. She met my gaze, and what I saw in her eyes sank any hope I might’ve had. The finality. The determination. The conviction.
