A tingle crawls up my spine. Something isn’t right.
I dive into my car, lock the doors and check the rearview mirror. I swear I see someone standing at the far edge of the lot. Maybe I should just confront the person and go down swinging. What’s the worst thing that can happen?
They kill me.
Kidnap me.
Expose me.
Lose Parker.
Losing Parker would be the nail in my coffin. As much as I’ve resisted him in college, now it’s impossible. I know the real Parker O’Ryan. The one with a gentle spirit, a dirty-talking champion, lips that caress my body, and he knows the spots that drive me insane with want.
This person is a threat to my new life and it’s time I figure out how to stop them.
If you don’t tell him, I will.
TWENTY-SIX
PARKER
I find myself whistling on my way to Dad’s office. After finishing treatment, my body feels right, loose and responsive. Like something clicked into place and didn’t immediately snap back out again.
Is it enough?
On the field? I hope so.
Off the field? Not a chance. I need more of Annika, but my brain keeps circling the same issue.
Annika or Anna?
Her past. The parts she told me and the parts she hasn’t, yet.
The stack of papers Witt slid across the table like it was nothing, even though his detective work could blow up my newfound happiness.
“There’s more,” he said.
How much more is the question.
Dad’s office smells like strong coffee and the faint hint of cologne he’s worn since I was a kid. It’s familiar,so many memories of him bringing me to work when I was too sick to go to school but not sick enough where he would need to stay home. It’s grounding and safe.
Jodi, his assistant, looks up when I step in. “Haven’t been here in a while. Nice touchdown last weekend.”
“Thanks. Does Dad have a minute?” I ask.
She smiles. “For you? Always.” She hits the speaker. “Your son is here.”
I knock once and open the door. Dad looks up from behind his desk, surprise flickering across his face before it settles into something warmer.
He tells Jodi, “Hold my calls.”
I close the door behind me. He’s always so busy. It’s hard to stay relevant and keep winning in this age of college football. But my dad is choosing me. Like he’s always done when it matters.
“Everything okay?” he asks, leaning back in his chair.
I shrug, dropping into the chair across from him. “Yeah. Just… needed to talk.”
This gets his full attention.
