Page 19

MERIT

I think I just wiped a booger on my shirt.

Oh, well.

Not like I care. Holt should just be glad I didn’t wipe it on him.

I lift my chin in the air and grunt, letting him know he hasn’t answered my question.

“She did what Delaney does. She went bat-shit crazy.” He shifts on the couch, adjusting his position. “At first, she insisted on traveling with the other wives and families to all my away games. I didn’t really want her to go, but how could I tell her no? I mean, she was my live-in girlfriend. She continued to call and text constantly, every single time I left the condo. I mean, like every thirty minutes. It didn’t matter if I was working or just going to the grocery store. She accused me of never answering the phone because I was cheating on her. Even when things were going somewhat easy, she would pick a fight for no reason. Then, I found out she was stealing my money.”

I nearly choke on my own spit. “She did what?!”

He licks his lips and nods. “I was so busy during the season that I hired an accountant to pay my bills for me. I didn’t want anything to slip through the cracks. I had to sign a power of attorney form for him to handle all my finances. He could basically do anything. Well, he knew we were dating, and she sweet-talked him into believing that I wanted her to be added as an authorized user to my credit card. I have no idea how she spent the amount of money she did. It was outrageous—clothes, purses, jewelry, spa packages, a new laptop. Each month the accountant paid off everything she bought. I had no idea. Once the season finally ended, I was going through all my paperwork and ran across the bills. I flipped out. I told her we were done and that she needed to move out.”

He growls under his breath, just the memory of it has him shaking with anger. “She basically collapsed, cried, and begged me to let her stay for a few more weeks. Our team was hiring a couple of new cheerleaders, and tryouts were in three weeks. She wanted to do that. Like a fool, I agreed to let her stay until then.”

Bitterness and bile swirl in my stomach like a fire-breathing dragon. “She stole from you, took your hard-earned money, and you still let her stay with you? In your house? In your bed?” My head falls back, and I stare at the ceiling. “What is it with this woman? Why does every man want her? Is her crotch filled with magic fairy dust?”

He chuckles and squeezes my knee, immediately drawing my attention. His calloused fingertips scorch my skin. I can’t help but notice that one of his knuckles has a small cut on it. I wonder how he got it.

Who the hell cares, I scream at myself.

I shouldn’t.

I shouldn’t care.

So, how come I do?

Noticing my scowl, he takes his hand off my leg. “Same house, yes; but not the same bed. She went to the guest room. When I ended it, I meant it.”

“So that’s it? She tried out for cheerleading, didn’t get it, and then moved out?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Not exactly.” He takes a deep breath. “She tried to ruin my career. She nearly cost me everything.”

“How? What happened?”

“She was in the facility for a tryout and busted in on a very serious team meeting we were having. She went berserk. Yelling, throwing things. She even threw a crystal trophy across the room, trying to hit me. She told everyone that I was a liar and that I cheated on her—with several of the coaches’ wives, nonetheless. Then, she claimed that I hit her. She actually took off her shirt—in the middle of the room—and showed this huge bruise on her shoulder and chest.”

My mouth falls in my lap. “She what?”

No matter how mad I am at Holt, I know that he would never hit a woman. That’s not in his heart, in his soul.

“Yeah, she said that I had hit her at breakfast that morning. Punched her.”

“Wh-what happened?” I stutter over my words.

“They immediately investigated. Fortunately, it only took a few hours to get to the truth. Of all things, Raylee was actually in state for a work conference about two hours away. I made plans to go and see her, have dinner, and stay with her at her hotel before she flew out the next morning. I didn’t share my plans with Delaney, of course. She actually spent the day drinking and passed out really early. She had no idea that I had left for the night, no idea that I was two hours away having dinner and watching a stupid hotel rental movie with my sister. Fortunately, the next morning, I drove straight in to the team meeting from out of town. No stops at home. They had me on surveillance tape leaving my condo the evening before and not coming back. And of course, I was all over the hotel video that morning, eating breakfast with Raylee, walking her to her car, everything. When our team security pressed Delaney, she admitted she made it up to get me in trouble. She bruised herself on purpose by slamming her shoulder in the bathroom door.” He snorts, “I guess I should be glad Delaney was only a subpar student and not some mad genius. I can’t believe she actually thought she could get away with something like that.”

I can’t help myself, I lean forward, closing some of the distance between us. “Holt, I can’t believe you went through that.”

He scoots a little closer. “Yeah, it wasn’t my finest hour, that’s for damn sure.”

“But everything was okay? After they cleared you, I mean?”

“It was. I worked my ass off to prove to everyone I wasn’t anything like the man Delaney was talking about. I just wanted them to forget her, forget she was ever a part of my life. I worked myself into starting position. By the end of my third season, everyone had a Super Bowl ring on their finger. And I helped put it there. My five months with Delaney weren’t even a blip on anyone’s radar anymore.”

“Why isn’t she in jail?” I ask. “I mean, I didn’t see anything about this when I searched you on the Internet. People should know about this. I mean, I don’t care about Edward, but she was working at his law office. His clients might’ve been in jeopardy.”

“I was a freakin’ idiot, Merit. I mean, I had more sense as a seventeen-year-old kid when I dumped her after a couple of dates. Here I was, this successful man,” he says with air quotes, “this famous football player, and I let myself get conned. I was completely embarrassed that I let my loneliness and insecurities put me in that position. I just wanted it to go away. I promised not to press charges if she just left and kept her mouth shut.”

I sit, absorbing all the information he just bombarded me with. My body was tense and rigid when he got here. And then he told me the truth. And with every minute he talked, my resolve broke down a little more.

And now?

Now, I feel like a pile of warm jelly.

Unsettled and uneven. Unbalanced and unsure.

“Mer?” He reaches out and gently brushes my cheek. “You believe me, don’t you?”

This time, I don’t shy away from his touch. My whisper chains the two of us back together. “I do.”

His body relaxes, and he rolls the tension from his shoulders. “I’m sorry for putting you through this. I can’t stand to see you hurting.”

I press my lips together, thinking about what I want, a little of the old me bubbling to the surface. “Then don’t ever hurt me again.”

It’s an irrational request; I know.

Holt smiles softly. “Never.” A blond curl falls down on his forehead, adding a boyish charm to his heartbreakingly handsome face. “And you’ll never hurt me, right?”

Holt’s a strong man. Tough and rugged. To hear him ask such a real and vulnerable question makes me want to shelter him even more. I push the hair from his forehead, allowing my fingertips to graze down the side of his face. I trace the line of stubble against his jaw. “Are you scared? Worried about my intentions? Skeptical of me?”

He swallows. “I’ve always been skeptical when it comes to women. Ever since that first paycheck deposited into my account. But now? The only thing I’m scared about is losing you.”

My voice barely comes out. It’s so strained, I’m surprised he can even hear it. “I’m scared I’m gonna be lost.”

The gasp that leaves Holt’s mouth is low and guttural. In a split second, he’s wrapped his hands around my face and lovingly pulls my mouth to his. His lips taste mine, tenderly erasing the painful memories of last night and today. His mouth opens, eager to deepen the kiss.

Pulling back, I lovingly cover my lips with my fingertips, etching to memory the emotion and power of the moment. I shake my head. “No more kisses tonight.”

His brow furrows in confusion.

I continue, “Delaney is still hanging over us. Tomorrow’s a new day. Everything from today will be washed away. I don’t want her to steal any more of our passion.”

Holt leans back and opens his arm, nodding for me to join him. Immediately, I snuggle against his side. Snaking my arm around his firm stomach, I settle in his embrace. We spend the next hours talking. Laughing, joking, telling stories of our past. And when he finally says goodbye at 11:30, it takes every ounce of willpower coursing through my veins not to stick my tongue down his throat and tell him that I love him.

After he leaves, I’m brushing my teeth with one hand and grabbing a fresh bottle of water from the fridge with the other when a soft knock at the door scares the crap out of me. It’s a weird, eerie kind of knock, like a criminal quietly testing the waters before busting the door down and asking for all your money. I shut the fridge and look at the clock on the microwave. It’s after midnight. Holt left over thirty minutes ago, and the only person I know who would knock on my door at this time of night would be Kyra. But Kyra would call first.

The person on the other side of the door knocks again. Looking around for a weapon, I pull a large knife from the butcher block before sliding it back in place. I really don’t think I could stab someone. I need to rethink my weapon of choice. Opening a kitchen drawer, I quietly snag a steel meat mallet. It should get the job done if needed. I once hit my own finger when pounding on a chicken cutlet. I nearly lost a fingernail. It was black and purple for weeks.

Tiptoeing to the door, I pray the other person can’t hear the beat of my pounding heart. It’s so loud in my brain, it feels like I’m front and center with a marching band. I pull the toothbrush from my mouth and swallow the foamy paste. Gathering my courage, refusing to cower in fear, I hold my breath and look through the peephole.

My jaw falls open and my thundering heart immediately quiets to a flutter. I fling open the door and stare at his intimidating frame. “Holt! What’s wrong? What are you doing here?”

His eyes fall to my hands. Cocking his head, he studies my pink toothbrush and meat mallet. “It’s an odd time to be tenderizing meat, don’t you think?”

“It’s an odd time to be showing up at someone’s door when you left half an hour ago,” I say with raised eyebrow and sarcasm. I sigh, wondering what’s happened. Has he changed his mind about us? About me? “You have to be at school for workout in six hours. Are you okay? Did something happen?”

He takes a small step forward. “It’s tomorrow.”

“Huh?”

He takes another step and kicks the door closed behind him. There’s a predatory look on his face. His voice is lower than normal, dangerous and intense. “You said no more kissing until tomorrow .” He dramatically looks at his watch. “It’s now tomorrow.”

Immediately, my panties dampen and my vision blurs, growing hazy with the strain of desire. My lips part. I want to say something, but I can’t; the ache to have his mouth on mine is too great. Speaking just seems too damn painful right this second.

It doesn’t really matter if Holt can read my mind or read my face. Either way, he gets the point.

Hoisting my body against his, he slams his lips against mine, instantly melting me.

I’m glad Holt can do two things at once. Because I sure can’t. Fortunately, he grabs the steel meat mallet from my fingers, catching it before it clatters to the floor and bounces across my foot, just like my toothbrush did.