Page 10 of Eff Marry Kill

I would kill to belong to her. Fuck a brand or what anyone else is doing. None of that shit ever mattered to me. I play ball because I'm good at it, because I enjoy it, and because they pay me well to do it. But if the choice is her or the game, there is no choice. It's her.

I fucking hate that she doesn't know that. I've tried like hell to do right by her and give her the respect she deserves in public. Instead, I might have sealed my own damn fate.

I get dressed and grab my keys before heading to my place to let the movers in. She's going to be mad as hell to find out all her shit is here, but I don't really care about that right now. Let her be mad. At least I'll know she's safe, and she isn't safe at her apartment, not with her fucking roommate inviting random men to sleep in her bed.

While the movers are unloading, I call Nate.

"Yo, what's up?" he asks on the second ring, his voice raspy.

"Shit. Did I wake you?"

"Nah. I've been up for a bit," he says, yawning down the line. "I'm just tired as fuck. The shoot ran late."

"You having fun?" I ask, watching the movers wheel in a load of boxes.

"Fuck no," he growls. "I'm ready to be done with this shit."

"You signed up for it."

"Yeah, well, I won't be making that mistake again. Acting is for the goddamn birds. How is shit there?"

"Fine." I pause. "Your sister is moving in with me."

"What the fuck?"

"I warned you about her fucking roommate," I growl, still pissed about that situation. "But you didn't listen. She got home last night to find some random half-naked asshole in her bed."

"What the fuck? Who?" Nate growls.

"I handled it. She's moving in with me."

"She agreed to this?"

"She will."

"Jesus Christ. She doesn't know?"

"She will."

He's silent for a long moment and then barks laughter. "It's your funeral, motherfucker. Just don't come crying to me when she kicks your ass for trying to trick her into moving in with you. She isn't your biggest fan."

"That's your fault."

"How the fuck is that my fault?" he asks.

"You never told her that I talked to you about her, you asshole. She thinks she's a dirty secret I'm trying to keep from you and everyone else."

"What the fuck? How does she figure that? The way you feel about her is obvious to everybody."

"Yeah, well, apparently it's not obvious to her," I say, sighing.

"Shit, man. I'm sorry. I was trying to stay the fuck out of it. Figured you two should handle your shit yourself," he mutters. "You need me to say something?"

"Nah." I scrub a hand through my hair. "I've got it handled."

"How, exactly, do you have it handled?"

That's an excellent fucking question.