Page 108 of Daring the Hockey Player

"Let me at least give you a suitcase or a duffel bag," I say, and I'd walk in the other room and grab it from my closet if I didn't think she'd bail.

She glances at her friend, Charlotte.

"Let him give you a bag. As long as he's not expecting it to be returned," Charlotte says.

"I don't want anything from him. And Ineverwant to see him again."

"I'll return the bag, okay?" Charlotte says to her friend.

Amber sighs. "Fine." She glances at me. "You can let me borrow a duffel bag so it doesn't look like a homeless girl is leaving your place. Wouldn't want to hurt your image."

I inhale a sharp breath and bite down my tongue. She's trying to pick a fight, to make this easier on her. Well, I'm not going to give in and accept her hostility as anything other than her deflecting her feelings.

"I'll help you pack. Bring the trash bag in with me," I say and gesture for her to follow me into my bedroom.

She glances over her shoulder at Charlotte.

"I'll be right here. If you need anything, just holler," Charlotte says.

Amber mutters under her breath, "Some friend," and follows me into my bedroom.

The bed is still unmade from last night. I got in late and was out early this morning. I pull the covers up to fix the bed and then head for the closet, deciding which bag to give her. I grab one with wheels, wanting to make it easier for her. Even though I don't want her to leave, I'm not about to be a jerk about it. Besides, she doesn't have that much stuff, either. Her bag won't be that heavy.

I grab a medium-sized hard-shell suitcase and unzip it for her. She dumps the contents of the trash bag directly into the suitcase, the clothes tangled and twisted.

"How about I fold these for you?"

"How about you leave me the hell alone and let me leave?" Amber snaps.

I grimace and hold up my hands in surrender. "If you want to leave, you know where the door is," I say.

She yanks the lid on the suitcase shut and pulls the zipper with haste. It gets stuck, and I reach across the bed, shifting the suitcase lid to adjust the zipper and slide it closed. "For the record, I don't want you to go, but I'm not about to hold you hostage, either."

Amber doesn't so much as crack a grin. She grabs the suitcase off the bed. It lands with a heavy thud against the floor. She spins around to face me, and there's a fire in her eyes. "Kyler said he paid you to fuck me! Care to explain that?"

She'd been holding back—the anger, the hatred—now it's all boiling over.

"What?" I ask, trying to understand how she interpreted any of what was said as my brother paying me to sleep with Amber because that is the farthest thing from what happened.

"He asked how long you've been banging me and then proceeded to ask if it was before or after he paid you."

I exhale a breath, realizing how it sounds, but she misunderstood. "Kyler asked me to let you live here so that he and Em could start a family together and adjust to their new lives as a married couple."

"They're not married yet, and that's beside the point," she says.

"No, thatisthe point," I reiterate. "Your sister invited you to live with them, but he didn't want you there."

Amber winces at my words. I didn't intend for them to hurt, but it's what happened. Was it a dick move on Kyler's part? Yes, and I'm not helping matters, either, with my attempt at blatant honesty.

She huffs and yanks the handle on the suitcase, lifting it up. "Apparently, both of the Greysons don't want me around."

"Don't go twisting my words," I say. "From the moment that he asked me to take you in, I was excited."

"Take me in? Like I'm some kind of adoptable pet or lost puppy? I don't need your charity."

I take a step closer, and she moves backward a step, but she drops her hand from the luggage. I want to take that as a good sign, but I'm not sure that it is, at least not yet.

"You're neither of those things to me or anyone else," I say. "You can't blame Kyler for wanting only his fiancée and daughter in the house. They're practically newlyweds, figuring out their relationship."