Because I couldn't touch her. Couldn't tell her the truth. Couldn't admit that every second she was near me and out of reach was torture.
I moved around the desk. Stood close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes.
"You're the best player on that team," I said. Low. Rough. "And I've been a bastard to you because I don't know how else to keep my hands off you."
Her breath hitched. "Calder?—"
"Don't." I stepped back before I did something stupid. "Just… go home, Billie."
She stared at me. Wounded. Furious. Lost. She didn't move. Just stood there, eyes glistening, jaw tight. "He said he has something on you."
The words landed like a blade between my ribs.
I went still. Every muscle locked. "What?"
"Nate." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "He said if I didn't play along—if I didn't do what he wanted—he'd make sure everyone knew. About us. I know he doesn't actually know. But he suspects. And you know Nate's reputation. And you know yours. But… but he said there's more. And... something else. Something worse."
My blood turned to ice.
"He didn't say what it was." She wrapped her arms around herself, shaking. "I didn't ask. I just—I know it's bad. Bad enough that you'd lose everything."
I stared at her. Heart hammering against my ribs.
She was protecting me.
This girl—this fierce, talented, brilliant girl—was letting my son manipulate her. Kiss her. Use her. All to keep me from getting buried.
"You're protecting me," I said. Flat. Stunned.
"I don't care if you hate me." Her voice cracked. "I'm not going to be the reason you lose your shot."
Something broke inside me.
"Jesus, Billie." I dragged a hand down my face. "You shouldn't have to carry that."
"Well, I am." She swiped at her eyes, angry at herself for crying. "Because somebody has to, and you're too stubborn to protect yourself."
She was right.
I'd spent my whole life wrecking things. Burning bridges. Pissing off the wrong people. And somewhere along the way, I'd stopped caring about the fallout.
But this… This was different. Because it wasn't just me anymore.
Billie's shoulders started to shake. She turned away, one hand pressed to her mouth like she could hold it all in.
She couldn't.
The sobs came—quiet at first, then harder. Her whole body trembling with the weight of everything she'd been carrying alone.
And I couldn't stand it anymore.
I crossed the office. Slowly. Deliberately.
When I reached her, I didn't ask permission. I just pulled her into my arms.
She stiffened for half a second—then collapsed into me. Her face pressed against my chest. Hands clutching my jacket. Breathing ragged and broken.
I held her. Tight. One arm around her back, the other cradling the back of her head.
