Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
“I care about Aurora, Roman,” I say softly.
“You care about her?” He motions toward the end of the hall, the thump of upbeat dance music a discordant soundtrack to this nightmare unfolding. “You were just auctioned off to your ex. If you care so much about Peggy, how could you allow that to happen? How could you get up on that stage and let someone else buy a night with you when you’re involved with my goddamn daughter?”
“I didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t. Look at what you’ve done.” He motions to Aurora, who’s hugging herself now, tears streaming down her face.
“I was trying to protect her.” The words taste sour, like a bad lie. How am I supposed to explain that I was trying to honor her wishes? That we’re both falling in love and scared out of our minds at what that means.
“Fuck you and fuck that. You never should have put her in this kind of position. You put yourself between me and my daughter. You knew how to do this right. You knew how I would feel about all of this. If you’d asked instead of doing what you wanted behind my back, I might not have lost my fucking mind. But we’ll never know, will we? This is a massive betrayal, Hollis. How could you do this to my daughter?”
“You said you would murder him if he ever touched me,” Aurora says softly.
“Days ago. I said that days ago. That doesn’t account for the months of secrecy before that.” His voice shakes with ire. “Like she’s something to be ashamed of.”
“I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but this conversation would be better somewhere private,” I tell him.
He looks at me like I’m the one who’s lost his mind. “I can’t have a conversation. I’m livid. I don’t feel like you’re my friend or my teammate right now.” He motions between us. “This. I don’t know if it’s even fixable. My concern is Peggy. This isn’t about you or our friendship. I need to figure out how to help her manage…whatever this shit is.” He holds out his hand. “Peggy, sweetheart, we’re going home.”
“Hollis, please,” she whispers, her expression imploring. Torn.
But I don’t want to create more dissension than I already have. Her relationship with her dad is the most important thing to Aurora. I squeeze her hand, nodding. “You should go. I’ll tell Hemi.”
The way her face crumbles breaks my damn heart, but we’re not solving anything tonight. I want to go to her. I want to sweep her away and tell her how much I love her. That I would do anything for her. I would sacrifice anything to make her happy.
Instead, I let her go, and Roman puts a protective arm around her shoulder. He shakes his head, disappointment leaching through the anger as he shoots me a hateful glare and guides her down the hall.
Leaving me with a truckload of regrets.
CHAPTER 39
HAMMER
Ikeep my eyes on the floor and don’t say a word as my dad leads me to the car. His protective arm around my shoulder is shaking. I’ve only ever seen him this angry once before. When I was seventeen, I dated a guy who drove a sports car. He was an idiot behind the wheel and got into an accident with me in the passenger seat. I ended up with mild whiplash, but my dad lost it on the guy. Unsurprisingly, I broke up with him right after.
I’d been embarrassed at the time, but in hindsight, I understand my dad’s reaction. It’s one thing to be reckless with your own life; it’s another to be reckless with someone else’s.
But this is so different. So, so different. The very thing I was afraid of has happened. Almost a decade of friendship is at risk, and so is the health of the team—not to mention the damage I’ve done to my relationship with my dad. I’ve tried to be so perfect for him, to make everything easier—to not be a burden for him. Now I just ruined everything.
“Are you okay to drive?” I ask when we reach the car.
“I had one drink,” Dad grinds out between clenched teeth.
“You’re really angry, though.” I wish I could keep my voice from cracking, or the tears from falling, but I’m a mess. “And you punched a wall. You should probably have your hand looked at.” If he broke anything, I’ll never forgive myself. What if he can’t play the rest of the season because of me? This is all my fault.
“I’m fine, and my hand is fine. Get in the car, please, Peggy.”
I don’t argue. It’s not like I’m in any condition to get behind the wheel.
I slide into the passenger seat, wishing I’d handled tonight differently. It’s like my shame bucket is overflowing and drowning me in the process. If I’d been able to keep it together, this wouldn’t have happened.