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“Why? Because I’m the only person who can see past this façade. Or maybe I’m the only man who cares enough to fix it.”
“This was a mistake. I can find my own way home.”
“You can’t tell me you don’t miss this. That I don’t make you feel good,” Vincent continued.
He did, and that was the problem. Standing this close, Vincent had my heartbeat throbbing in my ears and between my legs. Then he tucked a wayward piece of hair behind my ear, and my pulses leaped in excitement.
“I-I’m married.”
He found my stammering cute and smiled.
“You keep saying that like it’s supposed to mean something to me when it barely means shit to you.”
“It does mean something.”
Vince didn’t buy that, so he didn’t waste time discussing it. Instead, he got straight to the point, “Stay with me, Kyerra.”
“Is that what you really want? A married woman who can’t honor her commitment, a woman willing to sneak around with you while she has a husband and a kid at home?”
“I didn’t say shit about sneaking, but if it’s you, I’m down for whatever.”
“I don’t know how this game ends in your mind, but you won’t come out on top. Tyson won’t allow it.”
“I prefer you on top,” Vincent flirted in his roundabout way of saying he didn’t give a fuck about Tyson or the rest of the Merauxs.
“Please, Vincent.”
His fingers trailed down to my trembling chin, and he smiled. I could see him slowly and subtly moving in closer. His full lips taunted me and made promises to kiss me in all the places that hurt—places that only Vincent seemed to see.
I almost let him, but I turned my head at the last minute, kicking myself.
“Please take me home,” I muttered loud enough for him to hear me.
Vincent kissed my forehead and conceded because that’s the man he was.
The kind of man I should’ve married.
“Anything for you, Ky.”
“Thank you.”
The ride back to my car was quiet. He was visibly disappointed in my choice, but he still made sure I made it safely to my car.
“Where do the negotiations stand?” I asked, perched between the car and the driver’s door, “Tyson is going to ask, and I have to say something.”
“We can’t agree on a split. Negotiations are stalled until further notice,” he shrugged, more concerned with my well-being than the stadium.
“What is it going to take to get this done? Seriously, Vincent.”
And with a straight face, he uttered my worst nightmare, “You.” No mischievous smile, just strict intentions staring deep into my eyes that made me damn near choke on the lump in my throat. “Have your husband call me when he’s ready to make a deal. Get inside and drive home safe.”
Taken aback, I didn’t even know what the fuck that meant. Nor did I stand around to figure it out because I didn’t trust myself. I needed to escape Vincent, so I followed his command.
All I wanted to do was go home and cuddle with my baby, but Bryson stayed with Sophia for the night since we both had business to attend to. When I pulled into the driveway, I sat momentarily, staring at the house we were still trying to make a home. Vincent’s cologne had jumped off his jacket and into the fibers of my dress. Now, I was delusional and wondering what my life would be like if I never left.
Climbing out of the car, I planned on taking a shower and going straight to bed, except when I reached our bedroom, Tyson was up and waiting to finish what we had started this morning.
“How did the meeting go?” Tyson asked.
