Page 85 of Holding Penalty

Look, if Nash just wasn’t into me, I could accept it.

If he told me that he didn’t want things between us to get physical because he didn’t want any complications in this arrangement, I could accept that, too. I could accept all kinds of reasons that he might have for not wanting us to sleep together.

But when he tried to tell me that he didn’t feel any chemistry between us? That the way he’s been looking at me and acting around me lately has all been in my head?

That I can’t accept, because it’s one-hundred-percent bullshit, and frankly I’m offended he’d even think of trying to pass it off as the truth.

It’s not even that I’m trying to make him snap by teasing him. If Nash doesn’t want to sleep together, I respect that, period. But I’m damn sure going to keep throwing it in his face that I know he’s full of it. And every time I do, his reaction is all the confirmation I need.

He can either man up and be honest about why he doesn’t want us to cross that line, or he can continue to suffer. His choice.

We’re going to another event tonight, a charity banquet held by all the professional sports organizations in Austin. I’m sitting in front of the mirror in the bedroom, applying some final touches to my makeup. I’m rolling on my lipstick, a stark and deep shade of red, when Nash’s broad frame fills the open doorway.

I meet his eyes in the mirror, and find a stunned expression on his face, his amber eyes hazy.

“Something wrong, Nash?” I ask, tilting a grin at him after a couple seconds pass. He’s just standing there silently with that dazed expression.

He clears his throat. “No. Nothing. It’s just … your lipstick. It looks really nice. On your lips.”

A wicked feeling sprouts inside me. “Yep, I know it does.” I apply the last bit and roll my lips together to even it, watching Nash’s eyes latched to my mouth the whole time. “It looks even better smeared on a hard cock, but since you don’t think there’s any chemistry between us, I guess you’ll never know.”

Nash’s chin almost falls to his polished leather shoes. I can hear the strangled sound he makes in his throat.

As casual as can be, I get up and shoot him an innocent smile. “Well, should we get going, hubby?”

40

NASH

Ipull into the driveway after a workout session in the arena, a couple days after the charity gala with Piper. The one where she wore that shade of lipstick I still haven’t been able to get out of my head.

I damn sure haven’t been able to get that comment she made about how her lipstick looks on something other than her lips out of my head.

Piper hasn’t shown any mercy to me yet, continuing to tease me and make me sweat with sexual frustration. I’m getting to the point where I don’t know how much longer I can withstand it.

The thing is, I don’t even think she’s trying to make me snap. That doesn’t seem like her motivation here. I think she just wants me to admit that I was lying through my teeth when I said we don’t have any chemistry.

But if I did that, I’d have to give her the real reason why I don’t want us to start sleeping together. I don’t know how she’ll react if she realizes how close I am to falling for her, so close that getting physical with her would immediately push me over the edge, deep into the point of no return.

I look up at the sky as I walk to the front door. The forecast today was clear and sunny, but half an hour ago, ominous, dark storm clouds started to gather overhead unexpectedly.

The petrichor smell of coming rain is thick in the air. The clouds look heavy and swollen with water. There’s a tension in the air that seems to promise thunder.

Even as I’m turning the handle of the front door, I’m struck with the sense that the house is empty. Like Piper’s presence, which I’d surely feel already if it were here, is missing. It’s enough to sink my chest with disappointment.

This is exactly why I can’t agree to her proposition. I’m already feeling sad when I get home and she’s not here.

When I step inside and confirm that she’s not at home, my brows knit. I saw her car outside, so where else would she be? Out poking her nose in the shed again for some reason?

Walking to the back door, a piece of paper on the kitchen counter catches my eye. I pick it up and read it.

Hey Nash. I felt like taking the ATV out for a spin, in case you get home before I get back and wonder where I am. I’m growing addicted to this thing. Yee-haw.

That last word is framed in a speech bubble emanating from a smiley face wearing a cowboy hat that Piper drew. My chest glows warm at her little sketch. But the pleasant feeling only lasts a second, because I remember the dark and threatening clouds that are only growing thicker in the sky as the minutes pass. Piper’s still out there.

I step outside, hoping to spot her riding back. But I don’t see her. The land stretches far toward the horizon, and a couple hundred yards away from the house, there are some hills that make it hard to see beyond them.

Worry pulls tight in my stomach. Especially when the first drops of rain start to fall. They’re fat and ice cold, and they hit the ground with concerning velocity.