Page 52 of The Score We Never Settled

Who?

Fingers wrap tightly around my tricep before I’m spun viciously around and slammed into a nearby car.

The body that presses into me is the obvious one because there is no way Hunter and his Southern tendencies of being a full-on gentleman would do this.

So, in retrospect, that leaves only one person.

And it’s confirmed when I smell cedarwood and recognize the hard muscles of his chest against my body.

“Layla fuckin’ Jean,” I hear Briggs grind out through, what I think is clenched teeth. “You thought you were slick, eh?”

I tug at my arm, which is futile because I know I’m never getting it free unless I rip it off. Though I’m still going to try anyway.

“What do youwant, Briggs?” I clip out, unable to look up at him because it’s hard.

It’sreally, reallyhard.

“You,” he says instantaneously, cupping my chin gently and forcing it upward to meet his gaze.

Pine green eyes.

My favorite.

He looks as freaking handsome as he did two years ago when I saw him last. When he refused to let me go and told me he’d have to be dead first before he allowed that to happen.

He even recommended ways that I could do it.

Hit and run.

Hitman.

Poison.

Sniper.

Some other stupid ways that randomly came to his head because, again, psycho.

“When are you gonna get it through your head, Short Stop, that you’re it for me and you’re mine? You can throw all the damn temper tantrums you want, keep me in the MLB, but you won’t be fuckin’ around behind my back while I work my ass off to give you everything you deserve and need.”

I needed you.

I wanted you.

But I’ve spent so many years trying to make things work, and in his defense, so has he, and it just didn’t.

It hasn’t.

It’s time to move on.

“You can’t keep doin’ this to me, Briggs,” I complain evenly. “It’s not working.”

“Because you won’t allow it to work.” His fingers run along the edge of my jawline, and he follows them with his eyes. “I’ve been good.”

His voice is soft, searching for the praise he deserves because he knows I don’t like it when he fights. Especially when it’s with Cruz Weston.

And, truthfully, it’s only been with Cruz except for one time.

Back in July, Cruz tried to hit Briggs three times when the dugout emptied on his behalf, and Briggs didn’t need to get his hands dirty for that one, even though he still could’ve joined if he wanted to.