Page 115 of Over the Limit

He slams the door at his back and Rossi turns on me, seething, as we stand ten feet apart, circling like wolves before a fight.

“I fucking hate you,” he grits out.

“Good. Glad to hear it.” I toss my gloves on the table. “You’re reckless and dangerous, and you just fucking took me out because it bruises your ego that she chose me. That’s on you, not me.”

“You took her from me,” he spits out.

“You lost her yourself, but you’re so goddamn arrogant that you can’t fathom that, can you? Oliver Rossi isn’t a god. He’s a great driver but he’s a shit person.”

“Like I give a flying fuck what you think. Just you wait,” he says and steps up to me so that we’re a swing away from each other. “I’m going to ruin you. Your reputation.”

“Looks like you already just ruined yours.”

“That you’re a cheater.”

“Taking your teammate out on global television.”

“That you fucked over your teammate.”

“Reckless. Dangerous. Out of control,” I spit out as the anger grows. Multiplies. As the adrenaline surges from what just could have happened.

“I’m going to go out there and let the entire world know that Golden Boy Evans fucked me over with her—”

I’m at him again in a second. He throws a punch that connects before I can pin him against the wall. Before I can throw my own.

And it’s a good fucking punch, but I take it. I wear it. Because what I have to say is ten times more important.

“Do you still love her?” I ask.

“Not your fucking business.”

“But it is. Because if you love her, you won’t say a goddamn word. Her job, everything she’s worked for is on the line . . . and while you were too self-centered to notice that before, maybe you’ll acknowledge it now. If you love her like you say you do, then you’ll keep your fucking mouth shut so she doesn’t lose the job she loves.”

“That’s asking a fucking lot.”

“No. It’s me asking you to be the man she still thinks you are. The one you’ve yet to prove to me that you are. The one you never were when the two of you were together.”

I barge out of the conference room.

I push past every person wanting to talk to me.

And I head straight for the showers where I can stand under the stream of water and let the adrenaline of the crash wrack my body.

Where I can get control of myself. Because that wasn’t me. That fury. That desire to hurt another human.

But why the fuck did he do that? Risk that? We could have both been killed. What. The. Fuck.

I crank the shower even hotter.

If he hurts Blair? If he ruins her career . . .

Holding back won’t be an option.

Fuck.

How could he be so fucking reckless?

Could have killed me.