RISKY PLAY (RED CARD #1) BY RACHEL VAN DYKEN Page 0,33
sleeve, huh?”
“Ass.” I rolled my eyes. “They’re for her, not me.”
“Shit, what did you do? Again?”
“Nothing.”
“Slade.”
“I asked her to sign papers.”
“How’d that work out for you?”
“She said no.” I got on the freeway and clutched the steering wheel the way I still wanted to clutch her hips.
“End of story?”
“I may have”—I coughed—“tried to persuade her.”
“Be honest. Are we talking lawsuit sort of persuasion?”
I gulped. “Well, I guess since I technically employ her—”
“Well done, Harvey Weinstein, let me know how they treat you in prison.”
“I just reacted!” I said defensively. “I wasn’t even thinking about using the kiss to persuade her, I just—”
“Damn, you need a keeper.”
I stared straight ahead. “Just send the flowers, alright?”
He cursed. “And the note? What should that say? ‘Please don’t press charges, my dick knows not what it does’?”
“Sorry.” I croaked out the word. “Have it say I’m sorry.”
He let out a low whistle.
“Yeah.” I took the next exit and sped toward the stadium. “Sometimes the simplest messages are the ones that mean the most.”
“How poetic of you—did you just pull that out of your ass?”
I ignored him. “Gotta go, I’m at practice.”
My mouth felt different, it kept reminding me that the reason for the difference was the fact that it had touched hers intimately and liked it. I pressed my lips together then licked, tasting her there.
I hadn’t been thinking.
I’d just reacted! Poorly. Really. Poorly.
It seemed that was the only thing I was good at lately, making a mess of things.
“Why do your lips look swollen?” Jagger asked once I walked into the locker room.
I gave him a funny look. “Why the hell are you noticing my lips, Jagger?”
His eyes narrowed. “I would tell you to stay away from her, then again you’d take that as a challenge, so I’m just going to say this . . . she’s too good for you.”
“True,” I admitted. “Which means she’s really too good for you.”
He shrugged. “I’m her friend.”
I laughed. “Yeah, alright. You do know the definition of friendship, right?”
“This coming from the guy who only has one friend?”
I squeezed my hands tight, thinking back on when she’d admitted she couldn’t trust people, that she didn’t have friends.
More shame heaped on my already heavy shoulders.
“Isn’t fucking your employee frowned upon?” Jagger asked out loud.
“I’m sure it is. Probably a good thing that she didn’t work for me when we did!”
His eyes widened.
And I mentally punched myself in the face.
It just slipped!
“Tell me that was a sick joke.” He looked pale—why the hell did he look pale?
“It’s none of your fucking business,” I growled, trying to sidestep him only to have him slam me against the nearest wall and ball the front of my shirt in his hands.
“Her ex did a number on her, you asshole. Tell me you weren’t her rebound.” He shook his head. “The guy never even slept with her, said he wanted to save it for marriage and then just . . .” He let me go. “You know what? This is bullshit. Stay away from her.”
“Funny, I said the exact same thing to her last night, to stay away from you. What makes you think you’re any better than me? Huh?”
“Easy.” Jagger shrugged. “I’m not an idiot. Girls like her? They aren’t fucking one-night stands, you dick.”
I kept my face impassive.
When inside, my chest cracked a little.
It was never supposed to be a one-night stand with her.
But it had been.
And I’d left.
I didn’t have a leg to stand on.
And for the first time in months, I was finding it hard to blame her for my father’s death instead of myself.
Jagger walked out, slamming the door behind him.
And as I passed one of the mirrors and glanced up.
For the first time in my existence.
I hated what I saw.
Chapter Twenty-Six
MACKENZIE
The doorbell rang.
I prayed it was a misplaced pizza or some lost fries. I needed something to make me feel better about this morning, and I imagined it would just be another strike against me if I cracked open a bottle of wine during the workday.
Plus I was making amazing headway in his bedroom.
I cringed.
That sounded wrong.
It also made my mouth tingle.
And made me wish that the kiss this morning was more than a crap seduction to get me to sign a stupid piece of paper.
Every time I thought about it, I was insulted all over again.
When I finally reached the door, I was fuming.
Two dozen roses were held in the space between me and outside. “Are you Mackenzie?”