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But could he make her happy like you can?I shut down that little voice before it can go any further.
Nothing good can come from thinking of things I can’t have.
This time I do meet his gaze, the anger in my eyes a reflection of his. Rhett’s hands grip the treadmill, his knuckles turning white, his jaw clenched, and he looks ready to end Mr. Ron Cooper, former golden boy of the LA Stars.
He can get in fucking line.
Even if Avery wanted to take him back, the way he treated her was inexcusable.
Ron must’ve messaged her after I left. If I was there, she would have told me.
When? Somewhere between the time you were reading her novel and kissing her senseless?
“What the fuck for? It’s not like he’s bothered to get in touch with her since she left California.”
Rhett growls, punching one of the buttons to slow the machine down to a jog. “He’s floundering. He’s been acting out and getting himself in trouble. Your newfound publicity with my sister is a way for him to get back into the public’s good graces.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. My agent may have come up with this fake dating plan but I’m the one that proposed it, that pushed her to do it. I didn’t think of what being in the public eye would do to her, and I should have. That’s on me.
“You don’t think he wants to try to get back together with her, do you?”
“No way in hell. He’s had a year to reach out and didn’t. I played with this guy for years and I know how he thinks, how he operates. I tried to warn Avery when he started sniffing around her in the first place. He wanted to piss me off, and Avery refused to listen to anything I had to say. He just wants to use her.”
He gives me a pointed look that fuels the fire inside me. I know what he’s insinuating, but I’m not using Avery.
“You’re not going to let that happen, right? Does he have any rights to Mason?”
“Technically, yes. The fact that he hasn’t reached out until now works against him, but if he wants visitation, the courts might give it to him if he gets that far.”
“Fuck that.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
We fall into silence, my chest heaving and my body aching as I push myself into my third mile—only two more to go. Rhett slows down to a brisk walk and chugs the water from his bottle.
As I open my mouth to rib Rhett about his lack of stamina, Coach Weller comes into the gym and calls for everyone’s attention.
I give Rhett a quizzical look and he shrugs, both of us turning off our treadmills. I guess Coach didn’t give us enough of an ass chewing at practice.
With a curse, I wipe my face with a towel and almost miss the guy in the suit right on Coach Weller’s heels. Almost.
This guy screams ‘old money’ with everything from the custom-tailored suit fitting his broad torso, to his expensive looking watch, to his perfectly cut and styled salt and pepper hair. His square jaw is set, and his lips are pressed into a straight line as his steely gaze roams around the room, assessing every one of us.
This guy and his resting prick face immediately put me on edge.
Weller’s eyes flick to him momentarily before resting on us, and he doesn’t look pleased. This isn’t going to be good. “Well, practice this morning was—”
“Disappointing.”
The new guy steps in front of Coach, casually adjusting the cuffs of his suit. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I don’t know who this fuck thinks he is—
“I’m Dean Prescott, your new GM. I’d love to say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but that’s to be determined.”Fuck. “Your coach seems optimistic about the rest of the season, but I’m yet to be convinced. I’m not here to make friends and give you false assurances. That’s what Mick and your captain are for. I’m here to make sure we win, by any and all means necessary.”
He doesn’t elaborate, which does little to make me feel confident about where things are heading with my contract.
Bollocks.
Without sparing us a second glance, he turns on his heel and stalks out of the Devils’ gym.
