Page 55 of Fierce Storm
Almost. Instead, I smile, the first of us to break the trance. “I’m ready for more.”
“For what?”
I raise an eyebrow, and he curses under his breath before huffing out an incredulous chuckle. “Fuck, Keeley. What are you doing to me?”
“Do you regret it?”
“No.” He glances away, his pained expression returning. “How the fuck could I regret that? You’re beautiful and… It doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t matter?”
“No, because we shouldn’t have done it.Ishouldn’t have done it. I was caught up in the moment and I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“My reasons haven’t changed.” He shakes as though the idea of that kills him, and I decide to push the issue.
“I get it. Believe me. I do. But you want it. You want me. And I want you too. We’re adults. It’s not like you’re proposing marriage. You don’t need permission to fuck me.”
“Keeley.” His pained expression intensifies, and I snap out of whatever messed-up spell I was under. “I hate to keep bringing this up, but I’m fifty-two. And your brother’s future father-in-law. The dad of one of your best friends. Say for argument’s sake that I threw you onto the couch and fucked you, as you say—” He winces at his choice of words, and I almost smile at how decent he is. “What happens after that? Do we go back to this? Can we still face each other at work? At family functions? You’re not wrong. I want you. But one of us has to be practical here.”
His words burn despite the fact that he’s right. Still, I open my mouth to argue.
“I think we’re beyond?—”
Sal’s phone rings and while he ignores it, I can’t help glancing at the screen. It’s late. After nine. The only late calls I get are important. So are his.
“It’s Wes.”
“Shit.” Sal blows out a breath, running a hand down his face. “I better…”
“Yep.”
He picks up his phone, turning away as he answers. “Wes, tell me you have news.”
I can’t hear Wes’s half of the conversation, but Sal visibly relaxes the longer he listens.
“That’s perfect. You think he’ll say yes?”
Sal’s eyes meet mine, and the relief in his expression elicits my own. They’ve found a solution. One problem solved. One to go.
When Sal hangs up, his smile warms my chest, and the “us” conversation drifts from my mind. “He found someone?”
“He did. Another free agent player that wants to leave his current team. He found out through an ex-teammate, meaning it’s not common knowledge, but he seems to think we have a shot at securing him.”
“That’s amazing. Am I allowed to know who?”
“Vance McMillan.” His smile widens like the cat that got the cream, while my stomach sinks and memories of the past flood my mind.
He’s a vile, pathetic excuse of a man, and he’s not right for this team. Especially considering the accusations Gregory is about to put out into the world.
The knot in my stomach turns to nausea, but I smile as Sal tells me how perfect Vance is. And he’s not wrong. He’s a great player, who, for the most part, has avoided controversy.In the public forum. The rumor mill, however, is rife with talk of hisinappropriate behavior, only it’s just that—talk. Because no one will speak out. Including me.
So, how do I tell Sal he needs to forget about Vance as an option without admitting what happened between us?
The one thing I keep close to my chest.
It’s hard enough being a female in a male-dominated world, but if I were to publicly accuse a football player of assault, I’d never work again. Even Sal would have trouble keeping me on the team. The board would vote against him. It would be my college experience repeating itself again.
