by Sosie Frost
“Yeah.” Tim grinned. “Piper Madison. Paul Madison’s daughter.”
“Oh shit. That little piece of dark chocolate?” Deion hooted. “You hitting that, Cole? Didn’t take you for the romantic type.”
Tim laughed. “Cole’s not winning any bitch over with that charming personality. He’s paying her to stay around—she’s his agent.”
Deion chuckled. “Christ, my agent won’t even take my calls, let alone my dick.”
“You’re missing the best part!” Tim wiggled his eyebrows. “Piper’s already had a kid, but there’s no baby-daddy in the picture. Know what that means?”
“What?”
“She’s not just hot as fuck, she’s easy.”
I charged Tim before the team could stop me. I considered cracking his skull on the lockers, stuffing him through an electrical outlet in the wall, or breaking my knuckles on his nose.
But if I hit Tim, my career was over.
And right now the game was the only thing keeping my temper in check.
He whined, but I was stronger. I tossed his worthless ass into the showers, pitching him into a stall. Tim shouted, but the freezing water must have shriveled his balls. He didn’t come after me, just whined like the little bitch that he was.
“This is a three-thousand-dollar suit!”
“The next time you insult Piper Madison, I’ll hold you under until you drown.”
The silence wasn’t a good sign, but at least our quarterback was living. I shouldered my bag and strode out of the locker room, slamming my fist against the door to coax it open.
Sometimes the pain helped. Sometimes it calmed me.
Today pain made it worse.
Much worse.
How was I supposed to live with this kind of rage? A blinding, uncontrollable, painful anger squeezed my chest and tore through my veins. It hurt. It pissed me off. It exhausted me.
And it endangered everyone who dared get close to me.
I left the facility. That’d probably get me reamed out later, but at least I wouldn’t blackout rage in the safety of my own house.
I hoped.
I hid in my weight room for the afternoon. Most sane and rational people would have let me be, let me seethe around my machines and weights. Most normal women would have avoided me until I was too exhausted to care about anything but dragging my ass to bed.
Not Piper.
The woman didn’t have an iron will, she had brass fucking balls.
And she was pissed.
This wasn’t going to be good. Piper tapped the baby monitor in her hand. The kid was napping. Christ only knew what would happen now. The best and worst moments of my life occurred the instant Rose fell asleep.
“You’re the only man I know who gets angry after sex,” she said.
“And you’re the only woman who’d confront me about it.”
“After the first night we spent together…you took off without a word. Without even a goodbye before you left for the game.”
“Okay?”
“Then yesterday, out of nowhere, you fuck me, drop me, then insult me.”
“I’m not a compassionate kind of guy after my balls are drained.”
“Oh, but you’re very eloquent.”
“I never made any promises about sweet nothings in your ear, did I, beautiful?”
Mistake. Piper was a five-foot-tall firecracker, and I just lit the fuse.
“I wasn’t looking for flowers or candy, thank you very much,” she said.
“Just wanted to get off on the biggest cock you could find?”
“No.” Piper stared me down. “I wanted to get off on your cock. And I did.”
I didn’t want to think about what that meant. “Then unless you’re looking to make the third time the charm—”
“I’m not here to fuck you.”
“And I’m not in the mood for company.”
I settled onto the bench and prepared to lift. Piper slammed the baby monitor on a rack of weights next to me. Great. Now my ears strained to hear. Was it static or was the kid crying?
Just interference, but I couldn’t relax.
“You’re making my life exceedingly hard, Cole.”
“What did I do? I haven’t even seen you today.”
“You got in a fight in the locker room.”
I brushed the powder off my hands in preparation for the lift. “Come here to scold me? If you want to play mommy, go take care of your baby.”
“You are such a jackass.” Piper fumed. “Do you want me to leave? Just say it. Believe me, Cole, you’re not giving me much of a reason to stick around—in your house or as your agent.”
“Did I ask you to leave?”
“No, but you’re acting like a jerk. Like you don’t care about anything, even your own career. Do you have any idea the problems a fight with Tim Morgan can cause you?”
I wasn’t an idiot. “Tim ran his mouth.”
“He’s the face of the Monarchs. He’s the one the team will protect, not you.”
“Think I don’t know that?”
“Stop this pissing contest with him. Measure your dick some other way.”
And let that jackass dishonor her? Insinuate her baby was anything but a goddamned miracle of smiles and giggles?
I should have knocked him out cold.
I said nothing. Piper lost her patience.
“Don’t you get it? The Monarchs only need a reason to cut you. It doesn’t have to be at the end of the season. They could call me right now.”
“Don’t tell me you want a trade again.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to risk everything because Tim Morgan is an asshole.” Piper paced the room, ready to blow. “I had a sponsorship deal lined up for you—the cover of League 2017.”
Oh. Fuck. Since when did she score endorsement deals?
“Forget it,” she said. “It’s done. The fight was already mentioned on Twitter. Give it until seven o’clock when Ainsley Ruport picks up the story, and the game will drop you.”
“Then I lose a sponsorship. So what?”
“It’s a million-dollar deal!”
“Do I look like I need another million dollars?” I sat up, loving how Piper couldn’t resist a glance at my abs. “There’s probably rooms in this house you haven’t even seen yet, beautiful. Why don’t you go get lost?”
She seethed, but she wasn’t an idiot. She stared at me, beyond the muscles and sweat, headphones crackling with white noise, and my scowl meant to drive her away.
“You’d do anything to avoid attention, wouldn’t you?” she asked. “You don’t want the deal. You don’t want to stay at the practice facility with the team. You hate interacting with people, and you’ll ruin every good opportunity just so you can stay hidden.”
I didn’t answer.
“You know, I always thought it was strange…why you came home so early every day. Out the door at dawn, but back mid-afternoon.”
Christ. I didn’t have the patience or strength to deal with this.
She forced me to listen.
“The team practices in the mornings and has meetings in the early afternoon,” she said. “Then the players usually train in the weight room together. Not you though.”
“Not me,” I agreed.
“You come home as soon as you can leave.”
I gestured to my state-of-the-art, quiet, private weight room. “Why would I stick around when I have this?”
“It’s not the equipment, Cole.”
I gritted my teeth. “What do you want from me? I’m a loner. You know that.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you a loner?”
I didn’t answer.
“Cole, look at me.”
Piper’s voice tore from her, a blend of anger and frustration. She should have stormed out of the weight room, cursing me for hurting her. Instead she confronted me.
Why? What did she want? An answer? A reason why I couldn’t bring myse
lf to look at her?
Did she want me to admit it?
It was because she was so beautiful and gentle and smart.
And the longer I stayed in her presence, the more I hated myself.
“You live in this big, fancy house all alone,” she said. “Why?”
Were we really doing this? “I like it that way.”
“You like this much property? The taxes? The estate upkeep?”
“What’s a gardener or a maid matter to me?”
“This is your parents’ house?”
Good. A history lesson. “And my father’s father’s. And his father’s before him.”
“Where are your parents?”
“Dead.”
“You don’t mourn them.”
“Hard to mourn someone I don’t miss. My mother died when I was young, my father took his sweet time following.”
Piper nodded, like she figured me all out, like it was that easy. “You didn’t get along with your father?”
“What’s that got to do with the house?”
“You said before that he hit you.”
“Everyone gets beat by their father.”
Piper raised an eyebrow. “Not me.”
“Right…yours just fires you and leaves you homeless without any alternative.”
“I had an alternative.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Marry Rose’s father.”
The thought set fire to my blood, and I didn’t even know the man. “But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Jasper isn’t a good father to my child.”
And so she talked with me? Fucked me?
My guts churned with ice.
That made sense. Piper wanted to use me for a quick fuck. Nothing more.
Hell, I had no idea what else I could offer her.
“At least you took your comfort in my bed,” I said.
“Yeah. I took a nice tumble in those sheets.” She stepped closer. “And I don’t regret it.”
“You will.”
“Do you want me to?”
No, but it was inevitable. A woman like her needed a prince charming, someone responsible and safe. Someone she could trust with her baby.
“I did what you asked of me,” I said. “You wanted to be fucked. I fucked you.”
“Yeah, you’re real magnanimous that way.”
“Aim to please.”
“And you did, even if you don’t believe me.”
“You’re not very subtle, beautiful. You came and nearly wrenched my cock off.”
“So what’s the problem?” she asked. “You’ve been trying to get in my pants since the moment we met. Now that you’ve been down and back twice, you won’t even look at me while I’m talking to you. What happened? Wasn’t I any good at it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Not experienced enough for you?”
I heaved a breath. It didn’t extinguish the burn in my chest. “You were perfect, beautiful.”
“Do you think I’m…easy now?” Her voice edged in a hidden pain, like she actually thought I find something wrong with her. “Am I damaged? You fucked me. Am I now repulsive to you?”
“Jesus Fuck, Piper. You think I’m repulsed by you?”
“What am I supposed to think? I don’t know if you like me. I don’t even know if we’re friends. I have no fucking idea if you actually want me here.”
“Fuck me, Piper. You don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand.”
She wanted the truth? The ugly, horrible, heart-breaking truth?
Fine.
My voice lowered, harsh and unbreaking. “I asked you to move to the estate because when you and the baby are around, I feel like less of a monster.” I stared, willing my gaze to punish her for summoning the beast. “I’m not repulsed by you, beautiful. I’m repulsed by me.”
Piper stepped back, but she wasn’t getting away this easy, not now.
“Why?” Her voice quivered. “Why do you hate yourself so much?”
“What’s there to love? I have to hate myself. If I didn’t…if I let myself be that monster…”
The words didn’t come. Piper reached for me, and I batted her away. No touching. No speaking. No nothing. My heart shredded itself in my chest. Didn’t need it anyway.
“Do you have any idea what it’s like living in a constant state of rage?” I whispered.
Piper exhaled, trembling so near to me. Fear?
No.
She listened. Eagerly. Desperately.
“I battle it every damn day,” I said. “I work hard to contain that hate. I wake up angry. I fall asleep angry. I do my job angry. And usually I can control it.”
“Usually?”
“Lately, it’s been staying in my head. Festering. Twisting me up. Do you understand? I can’t get rid of this rage. It’s just…growing.”
Piper didn’t run.
Why didn’t she run?
Why did she stay and listen and act as if she cared?
“You have no idea how hard it is. Every minute of every day is a fight with myself, denying the dark and terrible parts of me. You asked why I work-out here? Alone? It’s not about the solitude. This is the only place where I can push myself to the breaking point every day.”
“Is it a punishment?”
“No. It’s the only way I can exhaust myself. I pour everything, every last ounce of strength, into my work-out, praying it’s enough to make me so tired I can’t give a fuck about anything.”
“Cole—”
She still didn’t understand. How the hell was I supposed to describe how broken I was to someone so perfect?
“I live every day in fear.” It didn’t relieve me to admit it. Just made the shame worse. “I’m bigger than everyone. I’m stronger. I’m the goddamned beast. I can’t even play this game anymore without breaking a man’s back. I’m too dangerous. I can’t…”
I looked away. Walked away. Tried to get away.
Piper didn’t let me.
She held a hand to my chest and a second to my cheek. I fought her, but her touch warmed through me. Gentle. Fucking gentle.
“Stop punishing yourself,” she said. “You’ve no reason to be afraid.”
“Of course I do. You scare me, beautiful.”
Piper stilled, her voice low. “Have you ever thought about hurting me?”
I took her hand, answering immediately, fervently. “No.”
“Have you ever thought about hurting Rosie?”
The idea physically sickened me. I pushed her away, trying to forget the baby’s smile and her laugh and how she shared her banana with me every morning.
“God, no.”
“Then why are you so afraid? Why won’t you let me trust you?” Piper moved too close, too soft.
She wanted to be kissed. And I wanted to kiss her too. If I could have, I might have done more. I’d caress her, worship her, make love to her. I imagined giving her every pleasure a woman like her deserved.
I wanted to feel her against me at night.
I wanted to wake up next to her in the morning.
But it wouldn’t happen. Couldn’t.
I stepped away.
“I won’t risk hurting you,” I said.
Her words struck me—honest and mournful. “But what will you risk if you walk away?”
Piper wasn’t going to fight me. Rose cried over the baby monitor, and she left me with the echo of her gentle warning.
Alone.
In silence.
I once thought that I loved solitude. I was wrong.
I loathed it. The quiet was a curse, and my own fear a binding that chained me to the monster I hated the most. I had to escape it, but I didn’t know how.
Only one person might have helped me…
But I wasn’t risking her to save myself.
Cole
The game ended, and a microphone immediately was jammed into my face.
&
nbsp; I didn’t have enough time to wipe the blood off my nose, brow, cheek, chin, hair. It mixed with sweat and dripped off me, but the media ate that shit up.
“Cole, you played with a broken nose for two quarters!” The reporter from Sports Nation was a sharp-dressed peacock posturing for the camera. He didn’t lean too close—couldn’t get blood on his designer suit. “Where did you find the strength to keep fighting?”
We had a lot of canned responses memorized. Maybe I dug deep. Maybe the game was do or die.
Maybe I couldn’t afford a bad game after Coach Scott threatened to cut me if I even spoke the name Tim Morgan.
Instead, I told the reporter the truth. It was the first time I ever looked into the camera during an interview, on or off the field.
“I had a little girl counting on me,” I said. “I told her I’d win, and I couldn’t break that promise.”
The reporter might have keeled over. “You…played for a child?”
“Yeah, and it worked out good. We got the job done.” I nodded to the camera. “Hi, Rosie.”
The reporter swallowed his tongue. I patted his shoulder and joined the swarm of trainers still trying to stop my bleeding. We jogged to the locker room, but I knew what to expect. My nose was broken, and that was the least of my pain.
The best games were the ones I could feel once it was over, when the adrenaline faded, and every joint, muscle, and bone screamed. The worst games were the ones when I could hardly drive my ass home.
Tonight we treaded that line.
It was after midnight when I got back to the estate. I was grateful I finally learned how to open the baby gates because hell if I could lift my leg over it. Bruised and in a suit, the insult and injury. The suit jacket fell to the floor, and I took a big drink from the sink sprayer.
I hadn’t realized who I’d wake while shuffling through the house.
Piper rested on the couch with Rose asleep on her chest. The kid sprawled out, arms wide, legs up, not necessarily comfortable, but at least she was sleeping. I paused in the doorway.
Piper’s smile warmed me as nicely as a dip in the hot tub.
“You thanked Rose for the win,” she said.
I was too tired to lie. “Just trying to impress her momma.”
“It worked.”
“I’m smooth like that.”
“Not really, but at least you look good saying it…or you should. How’s your nose?”
