“Keeping these.”
I help her smooth her dress back down, then turn her to face me. She looks wrecked. Her lipstick is still in place, but her hair is coming loose from its pins. I fix what I can, tucking a strand behind her ear.
“You’re going back out there without them.”
“Patterson—”
I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. “I want you to do me a favor, okay?”
“Anything,” she whispers.
“Tell him it’s over. Make it crystal clear there’s no second chance, no rekindling, nothing.” I pull back enough to meet hereyes. “I already know how you feel about me, but he doesn’t. He’s out there thinking he still has a shot, and I need you to end that tonight. When my brother tries to take you home—because he will—I want him to understand who you’ve always belonged to.”
“I can’t do that.” Her breath hitches.
“You will,” I tell her.
“Why do I like it when you do shit like this?” She shoves me back. “You’ve turned me into a monster.”
“Nah, Ken Doll. You’ve always been one. I unlocked the cage.” I open the door and check that the hallway is clear. “Fix your hair. You look like a puck bunny.”
She smiles, shaking her head. “I really hate you.”
“Hate you too, babe.” I slip out first, leaving her to collect herself, feeling satisfied.
I find Mila, and her brow lifts when she sees me.
“You didn’t.”
All I can do is smile.
Five minutes later, Kendall returns to my brother, looking guilty. Mila’s eyes follow her, and then she smirks.
“You dirty bastard. You did,” she says, giving me a slow clap. “Bravo.”
I grin and shoot her a wink, knowing the speeches will begin soon, knowing deep down that Kendall is mine.
But since Jameson wants to fuck around with me, this time, he’s going to find out.
You’re welcome, brother.
20
KENDALL
Ilock myself in the bathroom and stare at my reflection, barely recognizing the woman looking back at me.
My lipstick is somehow still intact, but my hair is a disaster, pins loosened and strands falling around my face. My cheeks are flushed, and my eyes are too bright, and I can feel Patterson between my thighs with every micro-movement I make. The absence of my underwear is a constant reminder of what happened, of what I practically begged for.
I grip the edge of the sink and take three deep breaths, knowing that I live for these moments even though I shouldn’t. I’m addicted to the rush of it all, but now I need to get it together and put my game face on because I have to go back out there and sit next to his brother like I didn’t just get fucked senseless. I clean myself up and squeeze my thighs together, hating how much I already want him again.
I fix my hair as best I can, tucking the loose pieces back into place and securing them with pins that are hanging on for dear life. I reapply my lipstick even though it doesn’t need it and pat my cheeks until the flush looks like makeup instead of sex. When I look presentable enough to face a room full of leagueexecutives, newscasters, sports journalists, and my father, I smooth my dress down and return.
Jameson is exactly where I left him, chatting with one of the assistant coaches, and his face lights up when he sees me approach.
“There you are.” He stands and opens his arms to welcome me into an easy embrace. “Thought you might have gotten lost.”
“The line for the bathroom was insane,” I lie, sliding into place to play the part, knowing most eyes are on us.
