Page 50 of Forever Offsides

“Truth it is. I didn’t tell you because you hated him.” I hold up my hand to stop her before she can argue. “With good reason. But you hate him, and it was fucking me up that I… that I not only slept with my son’s ex-girlfriend but had also been talking to her for four months and developed feelings for her. Strong feelings. Maybe stronger than I should have given my lack of knowledge over your personal details.” My face heats, and I’m like a teenager again, giving away more than I should. I shift my stance and grip the knot on my towel tighter. “Anyway, I was a bit of a coward, and I didn’t know what to say to you. I didn’t want you to hate me because of him. Childish, I know, but it is what it is.” I laugh ruefully. “Actually it’s been eating me alive all week. I’ve slept like shit. I had sixty million plans for us, and it turns out the first woman I’ve cared about in decades is the one I can never have.”

She blinks rapidly. “The first woman you’ve cared about in decades?”

I chuckle. “I already admitted I like you a lot more than I should.”

“But—”

My eyebrows dance, and my lips twitch. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”

Her hands go to her hips. “No. Yes. Kind of.”

I toss up my hands. “Yes. As pathetic as that sounds, that’s been my life. This shouldn’t be news to you. You honestly know more about me than anyone.”

It’s true. We talked. We told each other things. No daily life things, but real things. Things that matter.

She sputters for a moment, only to regroup and recharge her efforts. “You still should have told me.”

I nod. “I know. I’m truly sorry, and you have every right to your anger.”

She grunts. “Don’t be so easy about this. I want a fight.”

I rub at my smile. “I gathered that. Fine. Yell at me.” I wiggle my fingers at my chest. “Don’t hold back. I can take it.”

She eats up the distance between us, her eyes narrowing and her eyebrows slanting. “You should have told me,” she repeats. “You should have called me, and we should have had a real conversation about all of this. I shouldn’t have had to find out that my ex-boyfriend wants back on this team by him showing up, nor should I have found out today,” she emphasizes, “from my father that you’re his dad only to then read about it all over the internet.”

“I’m sorry. I’m a broken record with that, but I am, and I mean it. It’s not lip service. I should have adulted up and talked to you, but you’re kind of intimidating, Dr. Reyes.”

“Don’t charm or flirt with me.”

“Right. Sorry. That was instinct. I’m done now.”

“A reporter knew about it before I did. She also knew my name and that I used to date him. How?”

“That I don’t know. I don’t know if Russel told her at some point or if she got wind of the trade talk and did more digging into him. I honestly couldn’t say without talking to her, and that’s not something I like to do.”

She squints at me. “How come?”

“I’m sure you can guess.”

Her nose scrunches up, and I hold out my hand to her again.

“It was a long time ago, back when I was still a player. And before you can ask, it wasn’t anything more than physical. Nothing like how I think about you.”

She shoves my shoulder, and the feel of her hand on my hot skin, even in violence, isn’t helping my dick situation.

“Stop saying the right things! Stop being so fucking perfect! I’m trying really hard not to like you.”

I can’t stand that she wants me to be the villain. That I may actually be yet another man who didn’t treat her well. Another Jones. “Quinn, I’m not an asshole.”

“No, you just raised one.”

I wince. That one stings like a motherfucker. “That’s my fault too. I guess. I don’t know anymore. I tried with him, but he’s not an asshole. Selfish? Yes. I won’t deny that. He was raised by a lying, manipulative mother who loved extorting money from me and using him however she needed to get it. I was pushed out a lot, barely able to attend his birthday parties that I paid for. I’m not here to defend him to you because that would be wrong. But he’s my son, and that’ll never change. I don’t condone what he did to you—not for a fucking second—and the man in me wants to kick his ass for it, which is why I won’t punish your brothers. I stand by my statement from the night we met. But I love him. He’s my kid. It just hasn’t always been easy to be his dad.”

She growls and shoves me again. “Stop! I need to hate you.”

I snag her hands and hold them, not wanting to let her go. What is it about her I can’t shake? “I got that, but the thought of you hating me is like adding insult to injury, and I’m not sure I have the stomach for it.”

She jerks her hands, and I release them.