Page 19 of Jason

Chapter Nine

Jason

“Jason?” Rory’s sweet whisper tickled my ears, but even that wasn’t enough for me to look up from my bent position of staring at the floor.

Softly, I could here her coming toward my bed, where I was sitting down. Still, I didn’t look up, I couldn’t look at her.

Not now.

After the last month, I was sure she was mine completely. I was sure she believed in me...in us. My biggest fear was that she would crack under the pressure that being with me would bring her. I was scared shitless when that first picture of us taking a walk was taken and the press, blogs, and numerous fans started sharing it on social media, asking who the mystery woman was.

But she didn’t say anything. Didn’t act any different.

That was the following morning right after we had dinner with her mom and Sebastian. Besides the picture of us walking together, the fuckers got it just at the right time. In it, my arm was around her, pulling her to me, my eyes closed while I kissed her hair. Both of her arms were around me, her eyes also closed, but she had a little satisfied smile on her lips and her head was at an angle, almost like she tried to hide it. I was torn between wanting to kill the fuckers who took it or find them and thank them. She was so extraordinarily beautiful in that picture. They also printed a picture of us, her mom and her boyfriend laughing and clinking our glasses together at dinner. I couldn't remember what we were toasting to or even laughing about. It didn't matter. Sebastian was almost as famous as any athlete, so of course the questions came pouring. I walked on eggshells all day, but again, she just took it in stride.

So, I finally relaxed.

I was happy. I was in love.

I thought nothing could break us now. But I foolishly forgot about the wives and groupies, and I didn't even think about Curt. They got to her. For her to so blindly assume they were right, that what those snakes were whispering in her ear was true, I couldn't help but feel betrayed. I risked everything for her.

Curt even went to the team owners behind my back and asked them to consider releasing me from my contract early so he could pursue other teams, other opportunities, a better paycheck. It was pure luck that they decided to talk to me first. To say I was shocked that the fucker would go to that length was an understatement. I did everything but beg them not to sever the contract. It took some convincing but, in the end, they believed me, that it was only a misunderstanding and not some play to wring more money out of them. They did say they’d have to think about what their next move would be and about the next season. But they also did say they would hate losing me, and after promising one more time, I had no intentions of leaving the Thunders, they shook my hand smiling. Thank fuck I nipped that in the bud.

“Jason?” she asked in that timid voice.

God, how I hated the sound of that. I never lost my shit like that before. I went to great pains to push down the urge to rip apart anyone who threatened my future, only to lose it in front of the woman who was my future. The scared look she had while I raged in the living room was something that would haunt my dreams and weigh heavy on my soul for the rest of my life. I never wanted to see it again., and I was scared I would lose it again if she didn't back off.

“Not now, Rory.” my voice scratched my throat. “Just...leave me alone.” I still didn't trust myself enough that I would stay calm.

She didn't do as I asked, of course, she didn't. Instead, she knelt in front of me, her hands going to my legs, where she pushed them apart and shuffled on her knees, coming closer between my thighs.

“What are you doing?” I asked when her hands started roaming the muscles, her fingers putting pressure on the knots in them and loosening them up.

“Trying to relax you. We don't want a repeat injury,” she said in a monotone voice, her sole focus on her job.

Of course, she came in as the physical therapist, not as my girlfriend. She was getting paid for it, and she was good at her job. The best. The irony was not lost on me. So, it was only logical she would see it through to the end.

“You can do it later,” I muttered, trying to brush off her hands.

She put her palms flat on my legs, dug her fingers in, and demanded, “Look at me!”

When I focused on her eyes, I could see they were still wet from her crying, full of regret, but, thank fuck, the fear that was in them moments ago was nowhere to be found.

“I'm sorry.”

It was sweet. I wanted to take her apology and say it was okay. But it wasn't. She gave up on me at the first hurdle.

“Rory,” I sighed, pushing all the way up to sitting straight.

I didn't know what to say, but I didn't get a chance to figure it out. She moved her hands, dragging them over my pants, going up, right to my belt, and started undoing it and the zipper.

“What're you doing?” I grabbed them to stop whatever she had in mind.

“I'm saying I'm sorry,” She wiggled a little, and when I let her go, she went right back to her task.

“Not now, Rory,” I grabbed her by her shoulders. The sneaky woman pushed her hand in my boxers with one hand and grabbed my dick, which started to go hard the moment she knelt on the hard floor.

“Yes, now,” she didn't look away from my eyes as she started stroking me.