Page 108 of The Wildest One

Before I could respond, he continued, “I wouldn’t want to cross any lines by giving you more of that sweat … you know, professionalism and all.” His voice had been as soft as a whisper this entire time, and now it was even quieter.

“That would be so out of character for you.” I rolled my eyes.

He stroked his lip with his thumb. “That’s why I think it should be a job for your assistant—so when I strip off that jersey, you don’t have to touch it or see what’s underneath.”

I wanted to scream, “You make nothing easy, do you?” but I said it in a hushed voice instead.

“Would it be better if I was this raging asshole who gave you every reason to hate me? That way, the decision, which you’ve already made, wouldn’t be difficult for you?” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “Is that what you want from me, Jolie? Because I can be that person.”

“No.”

“Then this is the side of me you’re getting.”

I held my cheek. “But this doesn’t make it easy on me either?—”

“You can’t have it both ways.”

“Can’t you at least respect me?”

His expression was like I’d slapped him. “And you think I don’t?”

“I think you’re just trying to make this harder on me.”

He bent his arm on the armrest, making me think he was going to touch me, but he kept his elbow balanced and his hand in the air. “If you consider this hard, I’d hate to see your reaction if I was actually trying to make you regret your decision.”

“You’re not?”

His teeth went over his bottom lip, and he dragged them across it. “If I was trying, this hand”—he moved his fingers, pointing at me—“would be reaching under your dress right now, climbing until it reached your pussy, and I would finger you until you were coming in this seat. But I’m not. Because I respect you. Therefore, my hands are in my lap”—he moved them there—“like a good fucking boy.”

I hate you.

And, damn it, I love you.

“Fuck me …” Beck groaned.

I was holding the key card in front of the reader outside my suite, trying to open my door, when I heard Beck’s voice. I glanced down the hallway, and he was walking toward me.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to my room.”

Thefuck metold me he was as unpleased as I was.

I drew in some air, my lungs suddenly screaming. “Don’t even tell me …”

He stopped at the door next to mine. “My sister fucking said this was going to happen.”

I’d met his sister at the first home game, along with two of his brothers. Each of them was so beautiful in their own way, and even though the introductions were brief, I’d felt like I was getting handed another piece of the Beck puzzle.

A puzzle I could never complete.

“First off, I cannot believe you’re going to be staying in the room next to mine.” I didn’t know whether I should throw up or buy extra batteries for the vibrator I’d packed since I had a feeling I was going to be using it a lot during this trip. “And second, what do you mean, Eden said this was going to happen?”

“We were talking about my travel.” He waved the key in front of the reader and opened his door, pushing his suitcase inside before he leaned in the doorway and looked at me. “She thought it would be real funny if we ended up as neighbors.” His stare dropped down my body, and I could feel every inch it traveled. “And somehow, we did.”

Why was my chest aching from this news?

Why did I want to be a fly on the wall when I was the topic of conversation with his sister?