Clearing my throat, I replied. “No. I’ve been too busy focusing on my career.” As we shared a look, I tacked on without even thinking. “Did you miss me?”
There was a brief pause before he said. “Every second of every day.” His tone suggested he was dead serious. Pain shot through my chest as he grabbed the papers.
Reed Prescott was back, and he was still the trip wire that would make my heart detonate all over again. I should have hated him for making me so weak, but I couldn’t.
“Here,” he began, withdrawing his wallet from his jeans pocket. I watched as Reed flipped it open and pulled out a card. I chose to pretend I didn’t see the condoms in there.
I took it from him and glanced down. “My private number’s on there.”
Lowering the card, my mouth dropped open as a torrent of emotions crashed through me. “Reed…” I stammered, but he turned his back and went to the exit. His shoulders were stiff as he walked away.
“I’ll be seeing you, Doc,” he shot over his shoulder, repocketing his wallet.
I wanted to run after him, force him to face me, and scream at him. His cavalier reply to confirm he had missed me wasn’t enough. I wanted Reed to show me how much he’d missed me. Maybe even for him to get mad and lose his temper. But no, as usual, he was calm and collected with only a hint of the beast I now knew still lurked beneath that surface.
And why the hell did I want any of those things from him?
Because you are still an obsessed fool.
Reed was part of my past, and no matter how painful, I had to come to terms with that fact. Yes, he had made it in the NFL, but I did not doubt that Jasper still had the power to bring him to his knees.
And I couldn’t let that happen, especially as Reed’s career had been muddied recently due to his behavior on the field. But why? What the fuck had happened to make him so angry?
The NFL did not tolerate difficult players for long.
And that’s where I came in. I would help Reed and ensure he kept his position at the top; God knew he’d fought hard enough to get there. I wouldn’t let him blow it due to pent-up aggression brought on by who knew what.
After the way I had treated him in the past, I owed him that much and more.
FOUR
REED
My heart remembered what it felt like when Storm broke it. And she was still so beautiful that it physically hurt to look at her.
The fact that Storm Summers was even more attractive now that she wasn’t hiding her true intelligence didn’t come as a shock to me. I had always known she was smart, irrespective of how she acted through high school and college. She’d toned down the airhead act during those latter years, as she’d had to. You didn’t major in psych if you were stupid; it just wasn’t possible. That adjustment had also allowed some of her vulnerabilities to show. When I’d first met Storm in high school, she’d always been viewed as royalty, but I saw through all her bullshit and easily latched on to her poor little rich girl insecurities.
Storm in business dress was almost my undoing. She easily pulled off that sexy secretary vibe, although her hair had been scraped back so tightly, I was surprised it didn’t interfere with the blood flow to her central lobe.
I loved her comment about dumbing shit down for me. The way she used to try to cut me down to size had always been a huge turn-on. Even in high school, Storm was super intelligent, yet had hidden that behind her rich-bitch façade.
And now she was no longer Daddy’s pampered princess. Storm had made something of herself and had carved out a career. Admirable, considering she never had to work a day in her life if she didn’t want to.
Finding her sexy ass on the floor had done things to my insides, I’m not going to lie. I’d always liked my Teacup on her knees, especially when she had my cock in her mouth. Fuck me, Storm gave the most amazing head, and we both shared a variety of sexual fetishes. We were in tune with our sexual needs, always had been, always would be. I saw that telltale sign when her pupils had blown wide from my innuendo.
Once she was on her feet again, it was all business. At least, she wanted it to be, but she couldn’t hide her true feelings. I still affected her, and the realization of that fed the monster in me. It wasn’t over between us. I didn’t know what shape our future would take, but there was still shit left unsaid.
I’d acted like an asshole but was well-behaved, under the circumstances. I smiled as I thought about how she’d sat so primly at her computer, those long, slender fingers punching away at the keys. Storm had side-eyed me with suspicion, like she was expecting shit to go sideways at any second. If I hadn’t been biding my time, she would have been right to have shown such concern.
After my ‘introduction session’ with the sexy teams’ shrink, the rest of the week was just as relentless. I didn’t have time to dwell on my plans for Storm and me.
I was introduced to the management of the franchise before the team, and both sessions were strained; shit loads of differing versions of laying down the law with a side dish of toe-the-fucking-line or you’re out.
Fellow players who had experienced a trade before had given me a heads-up that making your mark when you first moved to a new team was never easy. Depending on camaraderie in the ranks, teammates were either happy with who you’d replaced or held that shit against you. I was in a winning situation. It appeared that Mario Luthor, the player I was traded with, wasn’t held in as high regard by the team as the fans. So, half of them had welcomed me with open arms from day one: after laying down the law about my future behavior, of course.
It wasn’t so bad. Apart from the color of the jersey, I didn’t feel that different. Football was football, no matter where you played it. Thankfully, no one had my number, and so I was allowed to keep it. Forty-Seven: I was attached to it; it was my legacy, having had it since high school. At least I managed to keep something familiar with me.
In respect of my family, Ma invited us all for supper one evening, and I went over to the house. It felt good, shooting the shit, and my mother’s meatloaf had never tasted better.
