Page 95 of Hard to Hold

He slides a glance my way before looking back out at the ocean and at kids in their surfing lessons who are twenty years younger than us and way more coordinated.

“There was never really a decision to be made in my eyes. I’m sure Finn has his ideas but it’s my life, my career . . . my say.”

“As it should be.” I nod several times as I consider his response. It’s the right one—hell, yes, it’s the right one—but hearing it said out loud means it’s real.

It means he’s really leaving.

“Why do you sound so disappointed then?”

I can’t help my smile. “Because that means I failed at my job, at what I was contracted for.”

“That’s the only reason?” he asks, fishing for me to tell him I’ll miss him.

I will miss him. In fact, I think it’s going to sting for some time, but hell if I’m going to admit that to him.

“No, that’s not the only reason. Of course not. Something has to put a stop to the horrible sex.”

He tackles me onto my back, our laughter ringing out as my shoulders press into the sand before his mouth finds mine again. This time the kiss is longer, a lot less playful, and feels quite different.

I can’t put my finger on it, but when it ends and he looks down on me, there’s intensity there, a gravity that tethers to the unnamed emotions causing a lump to form in my throat.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t mean to hang you out to dry.”

“Cannon had to have known it was a long shot to keep you here, and that’s why the concept of hiring me rang hollow once I found out you were his target.” I reach up and brush some sand off his forehead, the need to touch him becoming stronger with each passing moment. “But I agree with your decision, Rush. What’s best for you is back home. Anyone who tells you otherwise is only looking out for their own interests and not yours. You definitely shouldn’t leave the Premier League. It’s where you belong.”

“Liverpool is where I belong.” I know in his heart of hearts that he believes what he’s saying. LFC is his future. It saddens my heart when I see his worried gaze. “Let’s hope they keep me.” His smile is quick but doesn’t reach his eyes, as he pushes off me and moves to sit beside me.

“Hey.” My hand moves to his back. “Are negotiations not going well?”

Rush is silent for a beat. “I don’t know whether you’re asking as a sympathetic friend wanting to lend me support or as an agent extraordinaire.”

I smile and shrug. “Can we go with both?”

“At least you’re honest.” He chuckles. “It does beg the question though: why haven’t you suggested I switch over to KSM? You said you were allowed to within your contract with Cannon, and not once have you made a push for it.”

My eyes find the ocean as I ask myself the same question. As I wonder the same thing. Rush McKenzie is a straight shooter, and therefore, he deserves an honest answer. I avoided it a few weeks ago, as I wasn’t ready to be completely transparent. But now? Now I trust him even more than I did before.

“I took the job with Cannon on a whim. I was pissed at my family for controlling my day-to-day, and angry at some shitty things I overheard fellow agents saying about me at a conference I attended.”

“What did your family do to make you mad?”

“They made me feel as if I’d lost their trust. As if they didn’t think I could do my job anymore.”

“So you took this job vowing to prove them wrong, by what? Succeeding at whatever Cannon wanted?”

“Something like that,” I murmur, not wanting to admit that I promised my dad I was going to land Rush as a client.

“Cannon gave you an unsurmountable task considering I never gave an inkling I wanted to stay in America,” he says. “What did the agents say that you overheard?”

I take a deep breath, resolved to blow it all off, but then realize that if I tell him, he’ll understand why I hesitated to start what is now us.

“They accused me of using sex as a way to lure new clients.”

“Did you?” he asks, unfazed and unapologetic.

“Not in the way they accused me of. I dated a player for a while, and he ended up switching over to me for representation. The rumor started there.” I draw my initials in the sand with my finger. “I won’t apologize for wearing high heels and the way I dress.”

“You mean professional?” He laughs. “No woman should ever have to apologize for the way she dresses. A man can think you’re sexy because of it, but that doesn’t give them the excuse to accuse you of using sex to sign a client.”