Once Upon A Half-Time: A Sports Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,148

excused herself from her family, flinching as her steps on the marble echoed in the grand hall where Lindsey and Bryce’s mothers envisioned arches and fine silks and flowers—all ivory.

“I’m busy,” she said. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“This won’t take long.”

She crossed her arms. “No. It won’t. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Good, cause I wanted you to listen. Can we go somewhere?”

“No.”

I hated to do it, but I let my gaze wander to Lindsey. “That’s fine. I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d like to hear me.”

Her jaw tightened before she surrendered. Mandy grabbed my arm, but she said nothing when I flexed my bicep.

I missed playful Mandy. I’d get her back.

She dragged me through the hall under the pretense of surveying the ballroom. We didn’t make it there. She shoved me down the isolated corridor leading to the bathrooms.

“What do you want?” Her voice strained. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”

Trouble? I had been a fucking gentleman. “I did everything you wanted. I stayed when you asked me. I left when you threw me out. Don’t punish me for what happened.”

“I’m not. I’m punishing myself.”

“Why?”

“Because I was an idiot to trust you.”

“Why don’t you now?”

“What’s there to trust? I knew you fucked anything on two legs. I can’t believe I let myself think that you were…”

“What?”

Mandy shook her head. “Nothing.”

“No.” I didn’t let her walk away. I thrust an arm to the wall, blocking her escape. “Tell me. What did you think I was? What did you think happened between us?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Obviously it matters.”

“Yeah, to me. But you’re not the type of man who cares about others. You don’t care about how I feel or what I want or why this is so hard for me.”

The anger heated me, but it wasn’t directed at her. The insult hurt. “How the hell would you know what I care about? Fucking ask me sometime. You might be surprised.”

“I’ve had enough surprises lately. I can’t handle any more.”

Cryptic again. I was getting real tired of that shit. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know.” It was the first honest answer she gave, and the possibilities surged through me with a newfound strength. “I need space. I need time to think. It’s too hard with you and the wedding and my family and…everything else.”

“Maybe you’d feel better if someone helped you out.”

“Who? You?”

“Yeah.”

The answer shocked her as much as it surprised me.

I doubted she’d believe me. Doubted even more she’d understand why I asked for the chance. Was it too much to hope that she’d just drop her guard? Maybe smile?

I didn’t speak. I tugged on her hand, pulling her close. I had no idea what I was doing, but if I didn’t touch her, everything inside me might have scrambled, drunk on her, but suffering the hangover of her withdrawal.

I threaded my fingers through her hair. She gasped. I loved that sound almost as much as a touch of her fingers or the grip of her tightness.

She could lie to me, hide secrets from me, but her breath was honest. She sighed with pleasure, huffed with impatience, and revealed everything in the quiver that was her exhale.

I never read a woman as easily as I could Mandy, but she kept so much tucked inside her.

What did I have to do to be the man she trusted with those secrets?

I kissed her. At least she couldn’t keep her desire from me. She could lie, but even she couldn’t bluff through that coiling heat.

“Nate—” Her fingers curled in my shirt. “This is wrong.”

“Why?”

She kissed me with a groan. “I can’t let myself do this.”

“Then blame me.”

“Believe me, I do.”

I flicked my tongue over hers. “Don’t push me away.”

“Stop pulling me so close.”

“Impossible.”

Her back struck the wall. I didn’t let her go, didn’t have to release her. I was bigger, stronger than her. She was pinned, and she knew it.

But a single mew between her kisses would have dropped me to my knees.

Instead, her fingers tightened over me. She tried to search the hallway. We were alone. She had nothing to worry about but me.

“This is wrong.” Her words trembled. My cock turned to stone. “You aren’t good for me.”

“Isn’t it more fun to be bad?”

“It’s not safe.”

“I’m not dangerous…” Only a little. “I can keep you safe.”

“From you?”

“From yourself. From overthinking this. From any guilt or shame or…” I nipped her neck. “Denying yourself everything I can give.”

“I’m not the type of girl who does this.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

I