“Huh?” He frowned, one eyebrow inching up.
“The expression,” she said, trying to pull them back onto familiar ground. “It’s uncharted waters.”
She didn’t understand why, but that made him smile, bright and genuine. “I’m falling in love with you, Ashlynn.” He bent and kissed her neck. “Did I say that right?”
Her stomach exploded in butterflies, her nerve endings sizzling underneath her skin, but her anger and uncertainty were still there, leaving her a confused mess. “What?”
“You heard me. You want me to shout it from this balcony? Because I will. I’m tired of keeping us a secret, even if it is to protect your job.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered. The most amazing man had just told her he was falling for her, and all she could feel was panic. They seemed to hit roadblock after roadblock—was it supposed to be this hard? What if, between living in different countries, his family, her career . . . what if love wasn’t enough?
“I know tonight’s been a lot,” he said, tracing his fingers over her chin. “It’s all been a lot.”
“I’m . . .” She took a deep breath, as though about to plunge underwater. “I’m falling for you too, Leandro, and it freaks me out. It’s fast. Everything’s so intense with you.” Crash and burn. The words echoed through her brain.
He kissed her, deep and slow, sending heat curling through her. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark, hooded with lust. “Let’s go home. I want to spend the rest of the night inside you.” He kissed her neck and dropped a hand down to her ass, squeezing. “I want to fuck you until neither of us can walk. I want you to scream my name until you’re hoarse. Even if we’re a secret, I . . .” He broke off, his eyes bright. “I need to know you’re mine.”
She looked up at him and nodded, not wanting to think any more tonight. She was sick of the confusion and uncertainty tangled up inside her, and so she clung to the only certainties she had: as much as it scared her, she was in love with Leandro, and when they were in bed together, nothing else seemed to matter. And right now, after the night she’d had, she needed the comfort of being with him, of losing herself in how good he made her feel.
20
ASHLYNN TUGGED ON the glass door of the WFC building, the overly chilled air washing over her as she entered. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, stifling a yawn. Damn. She should’ve stopped at Starbucks on the way in, but she’d been so concerned about getting to the office on time that she hadn’t thought to. She’d spent a sleepless night wandering around her town house, her mind too full to sleep.
After Leandro had screwed her brains out he’d left, as usual, but instead of falling into her normal deep, sated sleep, she’d lain awake. Eventually she’d given up and tried to find something to distract herself with.
His admission that he was falling in love with her should’ve made everything better, but it hadn’t. It had only muddied the waters even more. She knew he’d never had a serious relationship before, and she had to question if he was confusing lust for love. It was simply too fast for his feelings to be deep and genuine, and for some reason, she felt the need to cling to this rationalization.
The simple truth was that she didn’t fit with his family, and maybe never would. They were from completely different worlds, and she wasn’t sure how to work around that. Every time she tried to picture what their future would look like, her mind ground to a screeching halt. She couldn’t envision herself living in some mansion in Brazil, not working, just . . . doing nothing. Being nothing. That wasn’t what she wanted for herself. A fancy penthouse in Las Vegas was a bit easier to picture, but Leandro wasn’t planning to stay in the US indefinitely. How would those geographical differences play out if they got really serious? Married? She didn’t want to arrange her life around his and have nothing left for herself. Nothing of her own.
And on top of that, she couldn’t imagine trying to make herself into someone who fit into his world—who spent money like it was going out of style, who rubbed elbows with the rich and famous, whose identity was tied up in who you knew and who you were doing. It just wasn’t her.
Maybe all they had was sex, because in bed everything was perfect. Maybe she was trying to make what was nothing more than hot sex into something deeper than it actually was. Not a real relationship, but an illusion of one.
She’d sat in her dark living room, the TV flickering quietly as she sipped her tea and tried to sort everything out. Everything was happening so fast that it was hard to untangle one feeling from another. Did she see a future with Leandro? As much as she wanted one, she could just as easily picture going back to her life the way it had been before. It was a sad thought, and it didn’t feel quite right, but it was easier to imagine that than following him around the Brazilian party circuit, living in a country where she didn’t speak the language, didn’t know anyone, didn’t have a life of her own. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was setting herself up for the kind of disaster that would leave her broken and alone, just like her mother had warned her.
Ashlynn approached her desk, but before she could even set her things down, Craig emerged from his office, his icy blue gaze on her. Something about the way he was looking at her had the hair on the back of her neck standing on end as a chill raced down her spine.
“I need to speak with you,” he said and tipped his head toward his office, not waiting for her to follow before disappearing back inside. Her mouth went dry, and she hastily set her things down before following him. She passed by his assistant Deb’s desk, her apprehension growing at the sadly sympathetic smile on Deb’s face. She smoothed her hands down her skirt as she entered, plastering what she hoped was a pleasant smile on her face. “Close the door.” He spoke without looking up from the tablet in his hands.
God, that damn tablet. Her entire body went cold as she wondered if Leandro had done something and what that would mean for both her job and her relationship with Leandro.
Craig frowned and shook his head as he stared down at the tablet, looking unhappy even for him. Ashlynn’s pulse picked up, but she forced herself to sit down in one of the chairs facing his desk. Whatever it was, she’d handle it.
Without a word, he passed her the tablet, and she took it, her stomach clenching as she tried to brace herself for whatever she was about to see. There was a video cued up, and she glanced up at Craig. He nodded, and she hit play.
Immediately, the screen was filled with a dim image of her and Leandro standing on the terrace at Le Cirque. Not just standing together on the terrace. Kissing.
“Honestly, it’s like you were raised by wolves.” Her own voice played through the tablet’s speakers as a wave of nausea slammed into her, making her vision fade around the edges. She clenched the tablet, as though she could somehow will the video to stop, to not exist, for Craig not to have seen it.
Through a hazy sheen of disbelief, she watched as she and Leandro talked about his going to Brazil, and how that was a problem because they were together. Leandro telling her he was in love with her. Kissing her neck.
The admission that they’d been keeping their relationship a secret.
She didn’t dare look up at Craig as she watched the rest of the video play, unable to take her eyes from the screen. More kissing, followed by Leandro’s dirty talk, and her world dropped away. She felt as though she were floating, suspended as she stared at the screen. The video cut off just then, and she forced herself to breathe, her mind racing, her face hot.
Her hands shook as she handed the tablet back to Craig, and although it was her job to always know the right thing to say, in that moment, she had nothing. It was as though she’d totally forgotten how to speak. Her mind was too busy reeling from what she’d just seen to make room for the idea that mouths made intelligible sounds that carried meaning.
Craig said nothing, just stared at her expectantly, and she squirmed slightly in her seat. “I can explain,” she said weakly, licking her lips and trying to figur
e out how the fuck she was supposed to explain the video.
She wasn’t sure if it was because he was out of patience, or because he was putting her out of her misery, but Craig raised his hand, cutting her off. “You knew the rules and you broke them anyway.” He let out a long, slow breath, and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ashlynn. You’re fired.”
Ashlynn’s mouth opened and closed several times as Craig’s words rang in her ears. Her stomach heaved, sweat prickling along her hairline. She wiped at her brow, nodding slowly as his words sank in.
“What about Leandro?” she asked, her voice raspy and unsteady. The idea that he might get kicked out of the WFC over this—stripped of his belt, not allowed to fight, because of her—took her breath away.
“I’ll deal with him separately. I know you’re not the only guilty party in this, but the WFC has too much riding on his upcoming fight. But he’ll be dealt with.” Craig’s tone was foreboding as he sat back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “I like you, Ashlynn. I think you’re smart, and a hard worker. But you’ve left me no choice here.” He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Please clear out your desk and go. Accounting will forward you a final payment for any money owed.”
Shock and humiliation battled it out for first place amongst her racing emotions as she managed to stand from the chair and nod at Craig. “I understand. Thank you for the opportunity. I . . . I’m sorry.”
Craig tipped his head to the side, something almost sad in his eyes. “Me too.” He dropped his gaze to his computer and started typing, dismissing her.
Everything inside her felt numb, frozen, as she walked back to her desk, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. If someone tried to make small talk about how her weekend had gone, she might have to punch them in the throat.
Her eyes burned as she retrieved her things from her desk, but she blinked furiously, refusing to cry. With everything gathered up, she hightailed it back to the parking lot, feeling light-headed.
Less than ten minutes after she’d arrived, she got back in her car and pulled out of the WFC parking lot, leaving the building she’d thought had held her future in her rearview mirror. The upbeat pop music playing on the radio grated on her nerves, and she shut it off, silence enveloping the interior of the car. Leaving her alone with her agitated emotions. Shock and humiliation and anxiety and anger. And, fuck, the anger was the sharpest, the strongest. Anger at whoever had taken that video and deliberately sent it to Craig. Shit. It hadn’t occurred to her to ask him where he’d gotten it—she’d been so caught off guard by its existence that her brain had ground to a halt. Anger at herself for getting so caught up in Leandro. Anger at Leandro for tempting her into something she’d known—known—would blow up in her face.
With her hands gripping the steering wheel, she pulled over, knowing she was too distracted to drive. “Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” But the scream she’d let loose wasn’t cathartic, and hot tears spilled from her eyes, racing down her cheeks. She sucked in a shuddering breath and laid her forehead against the steering wheel, no longer fighting the tears, but letting them flow.
She was a failure and a fool. She’d potentially ruined her professional reputation, and for what? Some hot sex with a dangerously good-looking guy? Getting fired—and for breaking very clear rules—would be hugely damaging to her name, a name she’d spent years working to build up. Who would hire her now?
Fucking no one, that was who.
How would she pay her mortgage?
Who would pay Kayla’s tuition? Her mother lived paycheck to paycheck, and if there was no money, she knew Kayla would drop out. Again.
“So stupid,” she said, swallowing thickly. “So selfish. What is wrong with me? God! Fuck!” She’d been bitten in the ass by her horrible taste in men before, but never quite this badly. All those past disasters were nibbles compared to what felt like a shark bite. She slammed the palm of her hand against the steering wheel. Anger was better than fear, so she clung to it, not wanting to think about how fucking scared she was that she might’ve just blown her life to smithereens.
A deadweight kind of calm settled over her as the fact that she may have completely ruined her career sank in, and after a few more deep breaths, she pulled back onto the road and drove back home in a numb trance.
As she closed the door of her town house behind her, she wondered if she’d have to sell it in the near future. She gazed around lovingly at the warm, tidy space. The walls she’d painted. The furniture she’d saved up for. “What the hell have I done?” she asked herself quietly, slowly moving through the space toward the kitchen.
After deciding that she didn’t care that it wasn’t even ten in the morning, she opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass, needing something to take the edge off the tangled mess of emotions threatening to strangle her.
Her throat thickened with fresh tears and she sank down onto the couch, her phone in hand. She opened her text window with Leandro, her thumb hovering over the screen as she tried to figure out what to say. After a few minutes and several sips of wine, she decided to just go with the simplest, most direct thing she could think of.
I just got fired because of us.
“WHAT HAPPENED?” THOSE were the only words Leandro could get out when Ashlynn answered the phone. After seeing her text, he hadn’t even bothered replying; he’d called her, needing to hear her voice. He sucked in a breath and wiped away the sweat that threatened to drip into his eyes. He’d just finished a wrestling drill when he’d come to get a drink of water and seen her text.
It hadn’t seemed real. It still didn’t. He’d read it three times expecting the words to magically say something else. He still didn’t understand how their relationship had gotten her fired. They’d been careful.
Ashlynn took a deep breath, the weight of the world in that sound. “Can you come over? We need to talk.”
Her voice sounded different. Hollow. That, more than the words in her text, made his heart pound against his ribs. “Yes. Of course. But tell me what happened.”
“Just come over. I’ll tell you everything here.”
He opened his mouth to ask her how she was, to tell her he was sorry. Anything to keep her talking, but she ended the call before he could say a word. Fuck. He looked down at the phone in his hand as if he could pull answers out of it. Opening his email, he didn’t see anything from Darcy. He thought about calling him but changed his mind. It’d be best to talk to Ashlynn first so he knew what they were dealing with before reaching out to Darcy.
“I have to go,” he called out to his coach and wrestling partner. Without giving them an explanation, he pulled his T-shirt on over his head and ran out to his car. Ashlynn needed him, and he had a bad feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. Like maybe she needed him, but she didn’t want him.
He drove as fast as he could and pulled up in her driveway about fifteen minutes later. His palms were sweaty and his heart hadn’t stopped racing. He couldn’t explain what it was, but something about her had been different on the phone. She’d been sad and probably a little angry, but it had been more than that. Dragging his palms along the bottom edge of his shirt, he knocked on her door.
She looked tired when she opened the door. Her face was pale, and her eyes were too wide and too bright. His heart twisted at the sight of her, and he pulled her into his arms. She allowed it, but she seemed stiff and not the same as when he’d left her last night. “I’m sorry, minha linda. Are you okay?”
She nodded against his chest, but then took a step back. A flicker of fear moved across her face, and he didn’t quite know what to make of it. “Come in,” she said.
He followed her to the couch and sat down beside her. He would’ve reached for her hand, but she crossed her arms over her chest. It felt like she was miles away from him, like she didn’t want him to touch her. Her getting fired had put that empty space between them, and he hated it. “What happened?”
“Have you talked to Craig?”
He shook his head. “He hasn’t called me. I wanted to talk to you first.”
Her brow furrowed and she said, “I went into work this morning and Craig called me into his office. He had a video of us. It was from last night on the terrace.” She was so mad that her voice nearly shook with it.
A wave of anger crashed through his body. It was hot but left him cold after it swept over him. Whoever had taken that video was dead, as far as he was concerned.
She continued, her eyes on something across the room. “It showed us kissing and talking about how we’d had to keep everything secret. I don’t even know how someone got it without us seeing them.” She shook her head.
His mind raced as he thought back to talking to her, trying to remember everything they’d said. From what he remembered, no one had been on the terrace with them. The restaurant was small; he would’ve known. There definitely hadn’t been any paparazzi there. Someone had done this on purpose. Maybe someone had seen them from the casino and followed them inside, or maybe someone in his own family had done it. He’d have to deal with that later. Right now he needed to be here for Ashlynn, because he had a sick feeling that he knew where this was going.
“So Darcy fired you? Because of me?”
She nodded, finally looking at him. “Because of us.”
“That goddamn no-fraternity clause?”
“Nonfraternization. Yeah, because of that.”
This time the wave of anger was so strong that he wanted to hit something. They hadn’t been doing anything wrong. Ashlynn had been doing her job. He’d been training and doing press like he’d agreed to do. There was absolutely no reason that she should be out of a job. Fucking Craig Darcy. “That’s not fair. He can’t do that. We’re adults.”
She sighed and shook her head. “He can do it. We both signed the contract.” Leaning forward, she grabbed her wineglass off the coffee table and downed the last swallow.
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