“What feelings?” It’s a challenge. She tilts her head to the side with sass and taps her foot, and I want to bend her over, spank her ass, and fuck her hard, just to teach her a lesson.
“I thought my hard cock pushed up against your hot pussy made those feelings pretty obvious last night.”
Her cheeks darken, but she doesn’t look away from me.
Good girl.
“I didn’t say no,” she reminds me.
“Maybe you should have.”
“See? This right here. Mixed messages, and I’m over it, Ry. If you don’t want me, that’s okay, but you don’t get to touch me and confuse me anymore.”
Not touch her?Fuck, I don’t like that.
“Maybe I just need a little time to get my head on straight,” I reply and push my hand through my hair. “I don’t want to fuck this up. I can’t lose you, Wills.”
Her eyes soften just a bit at that. “You haven’t lost me. I’m right here. But you need to figure your shit out and make up your mind, because I don’t enjoy feeling like I’m being played with. I don’t deserve that. You’d punch someone else out for doing that to me.”
“I’d destroy them.”I’d fucking kill them.The thought of anyone else putting their hands on this woman makes me homicidal.
“Then you don’t get to do it either.”
I nod and blow out a breath. “That’s fair. I won’t touch you.”
She looks almost crestfallen at that, and it only makes me feel like an even bigger asshole.
“Fine.”
Well, shit. Now, I want to hug her. This is all fucked up.
“I’ll come back for coffee,” she says and turns to leave.
“Wills?”
She pauses, sighs, and then looks back at me. “Yeah?”
“It’s only because I respect you and care for you, and I need to be careful.”
She swallows hard. “Figure your shit out. Okay?”
I nod, and then she’s gone.
“Fucking hell,” I grumble while staring at my computer. My eyes are killing me. I’ve been stuck at my desk all day, working through my investment portfolio, along with wrapping things up with my agent, who is on my last damn nerve.
He won’t stop trying to push me to sign another contract. We already informed the team of my decision to retire. I’m not backing out on that.
But he’s doing his best to badger me into it. We’ve been emailing back and forth all afternoon, and now my phone is lighting up with his name on it.
“What.”
“You’re being unreasonable,” Andy says. I can hear the edge in his voice.
“No, Andy, you just don’t like being told no.” I dig my fingertips into my forehead. “I’ll be in Seattle next week for the press conference.”
“We’ll be announcing your new contract at that press conference,” he snarls.
“No. We won’t. I’m not signing another contract with Seattle or anyone else. I’m retiring. From everything. I’ll do appearances now and then, but I’m not working for ESPN. I’m not taking on new endorsements. I’m done, Andy.”
