Briggs - A Carolina Reapers Nove - Samantha Whiskey Page 0,7
said, cocking a brow at me. “What I’m not up for is having my life uprooted again. I love my team.”
The words hit like knives to the chest. “I have no intention of disrupting your hockey career, Cormac,” I said as steady as I could. “I would think offering you two million in endorsements would prove that I want nothing more than to have a mutually beneficial business arrangement. You become the face of our brand, which I know will increase our sales, and we sponsor you. Win-win.”
“Let me out of this,” he said, totally ignoring my offer. “I’ve worked hard the past four years to stay clear of anything attached to your family.” He leaned his elbows on his knees, drawing his massive frame closer to the desk. “You may not have had to rebuild like I have, but it took everything from me to put myself back together after being ripped from my last team. I will not do that again.”
Tears built in the back of my throat—angry, raw tears that I wouldn’t dare let fall. “You have no idea what I’ve been through, Cormac. And I’m sorry about what happened, truly, I am. I’ll never let anything like that ever happen again.”
He leaned back in his seat, something churning in those eyes—something that said he read a bit too much into the pain in mine.
I quickly blinked and straightened my spine.
“I live in New York,” I finally said when all he’d done was stare at me with his intense gaze that did funny things to my heart. “I’m merely visiting Charleston while I get the line up and running for the new headquarters. I have no intention of ever living here, so you don’t need to worry about that.”
“I can’t…” He shook his head. “I can’t spend a year under you.”
Heat flushed my cheeks, my mind whirling with all the imagery I most certainly shouldn’t be picturing—him beneath me, my thighs on either side of his hips, all that muscle stretched out before me to run my fingers over.
I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat as I cursed silently at myself. It was my own damn fault—I’d practically romanticized what had happened between us, using the memory to fill those cold lonely places I’d never been able to before. No wonder I was a coiled spring of need when he entered the room—he’d had the starring role in my fantasies for years now.
But putting all that aside, there was an undeniable part of me that needed to do this. If he would just give me a chance, he’d see that I wanted nothing from him. Nothing but his forgiveness.
“What about six months?” I offered. “We cut the contract life in half. Six months. You wear some suites. Do some promo. Still make your initial endorsement offer.”
“Half the time and the same money?” He tilted his head. “Seems like a raw deal on your end.”
I shrugged. “Your image is going to make Lusso that income back in spades. I’m not concerned with the financials.”
“What are you concerned with, Bristol?” he asked, leaning forward again. For a second there, he looked like he truly wanted to know.
“You,” I answered honestly.
He shook his head. “I stopped worrying about you a long time ago, Duchess,” he said, and each of his words stung. “You should really do the same.” He pushed back from the chair, and I mirrored his moves.
My hands trembled with adrenaline—anger and pain and guilt beating through my veins. I jutted my chin up, just a tad, as I held that fiery stare of his. “Do we have a deal?” I asked instead of posing the thousands of questions racing through my mind: Do you really hate me that much? Can’t you give me a chance? Would it be so awful to work with me for a handful of months?
He reached for the door, swinging it open. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes trailing the length of my body before he shook his head. “It’s going to be a long fucking six months.”
He slammed the door behind him.
3
Cormac
“You were on fire today,” Sterling said as we both collapsed onto the bench in front of our lockers. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move that fast.”
“Thanks. You weren’t so bad yourself.” I started ripping my gear off but paused at my elbow pads. The faster I went, the sooner I’d be in the shower, and then I’d be…