Kickin' It (Red Card) - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,64

a chic black jumpsuit with a plunging neckline. My hair was half up, and I’d let Willow put enough makeup on me to bring out my brown eyes and my tan skin. The gloss she gave me tasted like coconut, so that was a win.

“Here.” She thrust a Louis Vuitton clutch at me. “And don’t worry, I added condoms.”

She just happened to say that when Matt walked in and nearly ran into a wall. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the condom comment or because of the way I was dressed. Maybe both?

He cleared his throat.

I smiled, took the purse, and when Willow wouldn’t let me go, I batted her away with said purse, grabbed my phone, and all but leaped into Matt’s arms.

“You kids have fun!”

“Bye, guys!” Jagger rounded the corner with a bottle of wine. He was still here? Had the guy even left?

“Bastard better keep his hands to himself,” Matt grumbled.

“I don’t think it’s his hands you’re worried about,” I said as I turned back to see Jagger devour Willow whole.

Damn, talk about aggressive on and off the field.

Maybe it was an athlete thing.

“So, look.” I took a deep breath as we went outside, and Matt opened the car door for me. “I just—I wanted you to know that I would never trap a guy or lie to him. I’m on the pill, so—”

“Parker.”

“And I’m really sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I just . . . maybe that’s my immaturity or my inexperience speaking. I mean before you, there was, well, we talked about that and then one other guy I dated for like six months, and then—”

“Parker.”

“I don’t know, it didn’t even mean anything, we just got caught up and . . . oh God, now I sound like those commercials they make you watch in high school health class!” I pinched my nose and then chanced a look at a smirking Matt. “What? Why are you laughing?”

“Because I was going to apologize to you. I saw your blood test, your entire physical, I know you’re on the pill, I know you’re clean. I honestly didn’t even think about it because I already knew, but you didn’t know that about me, so I’m the one who’s sorry. For the record, I haven’t been with anyone in over a year.”

“One. Year?” Why did that make me so happy? “As in three hundred and sixty-five days?”

“Yeah, let’s not yell it, though . . .” He started the car and backed out. “But I would like to talk about the fact that you were with what sounded like one boyfriend in college and then . . .”

My stomach heaved. “Yeah.”

“That should tell you one thing right there, Parker. It’s not like you were this experienced seductress out to make a name for yourself. You didn’t seduce him, you were afraid, he abused that power, that fear, and he was wrong, not you.”

My throat closed up, tightened to a painful degree. “I just . . . I don’t want to talk about it, not here, not now.”

“We have to talk about it sometime, Parker. We have to discuss what you want to do.”

I jerked my head to attention. “What do you mean? I would never play for LA. And as for Erik . . .”

“I know, which is why I called them this morning and said thanks but no thanks. That’s what I’m talking about.” He pulled onto the freeway toward downtown. “I just don’t think you’re ever going to have closure unless you come forward.”

“No.” I crossed my arms. “What if nobody believes me? What if someone finds out about us and uses it as a way to prove that I sleep around for my career? You would be ruined, I’d be done for, and all because he’s a horrible human being!”

Silence.

I hated it when he was silent.

Because it said more than words did, didn’t it?

“You’re worth that risk to me, but you have to think about you right now, and know I am fully on board with Team Parker. I like her, I want her to succeed, I want her to have everything even if it means she doesn’t have me,” he finally said, putting his hand on my knee. “And you’re right. We won’t talk about it tonight. But the minute you make that Seattle team, I want to sit down with you and discuss it.”

I wanted to shove his hand away and yell at him that I felt more for him than soccer . .