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“Nope.” I glance up to find a softness on her face I wasn’t expecting to see. “It was all for nothing.”
“How did that end with you quitting the sport?” Cassidy asks, slipping from the vanity to her feet before she ambles my way.
The sheet is barely hanging onto her body as she moves to sit on the edge of the bath, closer. I want to grab her and pull her to me. To lose myself in her and forget all this shit.
“My girlfriend at the time overheard our team medic and the director of the club talking to me when I retired from the game. I didn’t feel right about what I did, and they were making sure I understood that my mouth stayed shut, or I was out of the club, and no one else would touch me again.”
“That’s awful.” She scoots closer again.
“Hannah and I broke up not long after that. What I didn’t realise was that she’d recorded videos of me at the team get together after the game. Videos where I’m seen drinking and joking. Where it’s obvious there’s nothing wrong with my head.”
“Oh, Christ.”
“A few weeks after I moved her out of my place, I was called to the chairman’s office and told that there were leaks in the press.”
“What a bitch thing to do.” Cassidy snarls, her hands fisting in her lap as she levels me with a pissed off scowl. “I hope you sued the living daylights out of her arse.”
“Hannah was the least of my concerns after that. I became the face of the sport for all the wrong reasons, and overnight, I lost my sponsorship deals, got a ban… my life fell apart in front of my eyes, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it. Then my mom got sick from all the stress, and I knew I was done. I had to walk away before my mistake hurt the people I love.”
“I’m so sorry, babe,” she tells me, resting her hand on my thigh.
I’m completely thrown by her endearment. All my hopes get bumped so high by that one word, I have no idea how I’m managing to remain so stoic about it. Every ounce of my optimism is screaming with glee as I watch her hand stroking my thigh.
But there is one thing I need her to know about this. “I don’t want you to be sorry for me, Cassidy. It’s not your pity I’m after. The reason I told you all this is so you understand that, in spite of all the shit in my life, I am willing to take a risk on you and give you my trust.”
“Why?”
“Because you are the first real chance I’ve taken since the day my life imploded. When I’m around you, I feel like I’m more than my mistakes.”
“Yeah.” She smiles, caressing my face before she gets up and moves to stand between my legs. “I get that.”
The second my hands anchor on her hips, I pull her to me, burying my face in her belly. I’m completely lost when her arms wrap around my head, holding me to her. All the mud slowly falls away from my memories, rolling off me with every deep inhale of her sex-stained scent.
It dawns on me then, a warning of sorts, that every part of her calls to the man in me the same way rugby called to the child. There’s no sense to it; it’s a calling deep in my soul. An obsession consuming my senses, like a missing piece of my soul that I was born to find, that I would do anything for. I would go against my better judgement and every single one of my morals to keep her. To make her love me.
I might be a different man, but I will win her at all costs. No matter what. In spite of how.
CHAPTER 17
CASSIDY
It feels like I’ve been in a haze since mine and Leif’s tiff this morning. The tug-of-war between my heart and my head is twisting in my stomach as we end our tour of St. Stephen’s Basilica.
Once the other three people from our small group leave, Leif takes me by the hand and walks me down the chequered-tile aisle, down to the red-dressed altar. He pauses right at the front, admiring the statue of Hungary’s first king, St. Stephen, basking in a subtle golden glow. There’s an ethereal peace that lingers in the air, making my chest lighter while I take in all the minuscule details of the gold leaf and intricately chiselled marble.
“I know this isn’t on your list, but I thought you might like to light a candle for your dad,” Leif whispers, giving my hand a tight squeeze before he gently tugs me into him.
Dad wasn’t a religious man by any means. However, the thought of doing something for him after my plans were scarpered has a nice sound to it. Even more so because Leif has suggested it. He’s so thoughtful and caring in the most unexpected ways that it really jars with the recklessness of his past. I know he says he’s not the same person, but it doesn’t stop the alarm bells from going off in my head.
“Would you like to do that?” Leif asks, resting his chin on the top of my head while I try to push past my anxiety and fears.
“That’s a really lovely thought.”
Instinctively, my body turns into him, and I wrap my arms around his torso. Every part of me wants to so desperately keep him that even with the chaos in my head, I can’t let him go.
Leif guides me to the side, through an archway that leads into a dark cave-like room overlooking the side of the altar. Placing a donation in the pot by the candle table, he picks a red one out that has a saint carved on the side. I think it’s the Virgin Mary, because it looks the same as the statue at the front of the church.
“What’s your dad’s name?” he asks, taking a long match from the jar beside the donation pot.
