“Yes.”
“Come with me. I have strict instructions to take you to Mr. Diamond.” He turns on his heel and leads me through the crowd.
We enter through a different entrance, winding through hallways, using an elevator, and then step out into a massive skybox. My jaw flies open. This place is meticulous from ceiling to floor. The glass partition open to the Idaho sun. There are all sorts of booze, food, and team decor littering the surfaces.
“Have a nice day.” The security guard nods and disappears, leaving me standing in the middle of the impressive room.
A door opens, and Alex walks in. He doesn’t see me at first. His head is bowed while he tucks in his white shirt with the team's logo stitched on the side into his slacks. I peer behind him to see he just walked out of a restroom.
I clear my throat. His head whips up, and a smile like I’ve never seen before lights up his face.
“Hey.” I wave a hand like a damn idiot.
He doesn’t say a word as he strides my way. His long, muscular legs are eating up the distance until he’s standing in front of me. His hand goes to the back of my head, and he coils his fingers in my hair and tilts my head to the side. He grazes his nose along the tender length of my neck.
“Alex.” My voice is breathy and full of need.
My hands finally go into action gripping the top of his strong shoulders. His lips graze over mine once, twice, then seal to mine. Our lips part, and that’s the end of it. We both lick, taste, and devour. I’m lost in him. So lost that my arms drop to my sides, and my purse tumbles to the ground so I can wrap them around his neck and run my fingers through his hair.
Neither of us comes up for air when he hoists me up to his chest, palms my backside, my legs wrapping around his waist, locking right above his ass. He steps back until I’m pressed up against a wall, his mouth still firmly sealed against mine.
“You wore the boots.” He licks his lips while I struggle not to whimper.
“I did.”
“Was that too much?” He bites down on his lip this time as if trying to grip some sort of control.
“Not enough.” My answer is brazen and bold. It’s the spell this man has me under.
“Well, then.” He thrusts into me, letting me know how he’s feeling, and then his lips are on mine again.
He continues his movements with his hips while kissing the hell out of me. I’m shameless in the fact the friction is just enough to send me out of control. The elevator outside the suite dings, crushing our hello. Alex sets me on my feet, steps back, and grabs his hard dick through his pants, rearranging it. It doesn’t do any good. His need is obvious.
A chorus of voices enters the suite. Alex pulls me to his side not letting go of me. I try to keep up with all the introductions and fail miserably at it. The men are from Coca-Cola, one of the Diamonds’ biggest sponsors, and they're all in dress clothes. I suddenly feel underdressed. I quickly shuffle it away with the words that effortlessly tumble out of Alex’s talented mouth.
“Hope you don’t mind. We’re sharing the suite with these executives. My family will be here a bit later. You look fucking hot, by the way,” he says. One thing I’ve come to learn about him is, in spite of his addiction, the man is honest. It’s a perk very few people in this world have.
“No problem.” I glance up at him and kiss his cheek.
It’s liberating not to hold back with this man. I’m empowered like I have never been before.
“Alex, here you go. Today is going to be a good one.” One of the suits steps up to us handing Alex a tumbler full of whiskey. “Whiskey neat, just the way you like it.”
Alex forces a grin and nods at the man. I don’t say a word, just watch to see what he’ll do. His hand starts shaking. There’s torment, sorrow, and hope all mixed together in his eyes as he grabs hold of the tumbler. His jaw is flexing, and his eyes are fighting to stay open.
“Thank you.” I don’t think the man notices the way his voice wobbles in his struggling attempt to hold on to his control. I do, though.
“Oh, my favorite. Do you mind?” I grab the tumbler from his hands and take a sip.
It takes everything inside of me not to wince and gag at the overpowering taste. Then I leave him to it and walk to check out the stadium below while Alex finds himself in conversation with another suit. I take in the field and keep hold of the drink. I take a few more tiny sips to keep the attention off Alex. Once we have a few seconds of alone time, he peers down at me.
“Thank you. I wanted to guzzle that.” His tone is angry. Though that anger is not directed at me.
“I know, but you didn’t. Take one day at a time, Alex. One second at a time if you have to. You can do it. I believe in you,” I mutter, still unsure if he can.
He takes the tumbler from my hand and places it on a counter before ushering me to the back of the suite, where my nerves flutter for an entirely different reason.
It’s the angry stare from a man I learned from the Internet is none other than Roan Diamond. Alex’s father and his glare that shoots between the glass and Alex frighten me more than suddenly being surrounded by hoards of people from the Diamond Empire.
9
Alex
I spent the days that followed my night with Maria fighting the urge to take a drink. The cold sweats, the churning of my stomach, and the need to curl up in a ball because everything inside of me hurt have all faded away.
Except for the nightmares. Those haunt me in an uncontrollable way. Morning, noon, and night. Especially at night. And that’s when I die of thirst to dull the pain.
They are my gateway to hell. I find when I'm at hell's gate and ready to be cast into the flames that burn so brightly they scald my skin, I wake in a flaming sweat I can feel to the depths of my bones. The searing heat that coats my soul. Somehow, I will myself to recover, to realize it’s a dream, and still the burning makes me want to run. Instead, I lie there and own the fact I have so much to fight for. A woman who accepts me for who I am and a family that loves me.
The only thing now that’s driving me to the brink of wanting to take a swig is the underlining burn in my throat that never seems to take flight and disappear. It’s a craving I can’t grab hold of, but the minute I saw her standing there in those boots and a tank top that left me imagining if her nipples were as erect as my cock had me craving her instead.
There isn’t any amount of alcohol that can take away the burning sensation caused by this woman and her presence that plants itself dead center in my chest. She shines so brightly with that halo all around her.
I’m no fool thinking this woman, who is now entranced in a conversation with my mom, isn’t the key to helping me without her even trying. She is, and by God, just being around her is enough to fight the fucked-up shit that lives in my mind. I don’t want to be better for just her. I want to work through all of this for myself, and her believing in me means more than anything right now. If she takes me for who I am, in return, I’ll be the best man I can be for her.
How in the hell I ever thought alcohol would make me forget what I did will forever haunt me. For now, though, I shove those nightmares aside. Pick up a bottle of water and guzzle it as I prepare for my dad’s wrath.
His glare when he walked through the door wasn’t lost on me. I don’t think it was concealed from Maria either. But she handled the introduction with ease. She even put a smile on the old man’s face when she told him how excited she was to be watching a football game. Didn’t know she hadn’t been to a game before until she told him she hadn’t.
“You going to finish that drink?” My dad steps up beside me as I stand and watch the team head into the tunnel and wait for their introduction.
“Didn’t take a sip. Tom Wilkinson handed it to me. I was setting it down when you walked in.”
“I see. I hope you're telling the truth. She seems like a nice young woman. Does she know?” He lifts his own bottle of water to his mouth, an all too familiar look hitting me squar
e in the gut.
“I deserve that response.” I shrug, knowing I have to gain his trust. I’m not about to spend his last day here arguing with him about it. I know I didn’t touch a drop, and for now, that’s all I can handle. “What is it you’re asking? Does she know about my drinking, who we are, or both?”
“Both.”
It’s always common for people to judge us. It’s something that doesn’t bother me anymore. Still, there’s something in the way he asks me that pisses me off.
“Yes, she knows who we are. She doesn’t give a shit who I am, Dad, or how much money we have. As far as the drinking goes, she’s probably the one person who has seen me at my worst.”
Christ, I don’t want to think of the man Maria saw when I first met her. The thought of it makes me want to hurl over the edge of this balcony.
“Not worried about the money. I’m worried about you. I’m the head of this family. I have to look out for everyone; my sons and my wife come first. I’ll admit I had her checked out. She’s very talented, very passionate about singing and college. She’s also lived a sheltered life. You might not be involved in our daily activity, but you are part of this family, Alex, and before things get too heavy with her, you need to make sure she understands everything.”
I hear him loud and clear, yet I don’t like it one bit. One would think I’d be used to him knowing my every move. They’d be wrong. I fucking hate it.
How in the hell he can keep everyone straight beats the fuck out of me, yet he does and runs his business with an iron fist and a gut made of steel.
My eyes drift back to Maria and my mom. As I watch them talk, I feel the worry that if things got deep with her, she’d run if she found out about what I did. It sinks into my bones.
I wonder if she did know, would she have still let me touch her?
I have my answer as I watch how comfortable she is with talking to my family. Maria wouldn't be standing in a room full of people who steal, shed blood, sleep, and do it all again the next day if she didn’t really like me for me. She’s no fool. She’s a smart enough woman to know what my family represents, yet she’s standing here with all her sweetness and innocence. I’ve no doubt she loves every fucking moment of it. She’s a goddamn sponge soaking up everything about an Idaho Diamonds’ game day.
“Do me a solid and don’t have her followed, Dad. I like her. Don’t jeopardize this out of your inability to trust. Let her prove herself.”
With those parting words, I make my way to Maria, place my arm around her, and settle us in for what I hope will be the first of many games we can watch together.
“You got issues burning a hole in your veins, boy?”
Aidan’s statement fans my issues until they sizzle through every cell in my body.
The big man glares at me while he slips off his shoes and socks, stepping onto the mat like he’s ready to plow his fist through my skull. His words and overbearing eagerness grate on my last nerve because he knows the answer. I read it in his text. See it flaming in his eyes as he rounds his shoulders, takes his stance, and waits for me to answer him with either a lie or my fists.
“You gonna talk? Or did that pretty little thing you had with you the other day suck your balls dry? Or,” he taunts, cracks his knuckles, and continues, “you been caught with your pants around your ankles while fucking someone else's woman? The way I’ve heard is, you’re fucking shit up. Must be those nightmares that are keeping you up at night are haunting you during the day. Booze won’t help. Fucking won’t help. So, tell me, Alex, you think if I beat the piss out of you, that’s going to solve your problem?”
I’ve been in this situation with Aidan many times. The man is as solid as a brick, but he runs his mouth way too fucking much and does it enough to get the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
“You don’t have it in you to fuck me up anymore, old man. My head might be barely above water. Don’t mean I’m going to give up and drown. I’m working on what I need to fix my problem. You need to shut the hell up and lend me your Goddamn hand.”
I have to admit, the way he cocks his head to the side makes me nervous as hell. He isn’t out to teach me tactical moves this time. He wants my blood. Wants to pull that poison out of my head, yank the lead that’s weighing me down out of my ass, and teach me that what I did had a reason. I already know why I did it; don’t need a friendly reminder. I need to fight. To know I’m still a Goddamn man and not some pansy-ass piece of shit walking around ready to explode when I finally got something good waiting for me to straighten my shit out.
“Crock of shit if I ever heard one. You’re floating, Alex. Coasting along in some comfortably numb state while those of us who care about you watch the man you were drift further away. You’re stuck back in that Goddamn alley where it’s dark and lonely. You haven’t fooled anyone. Not even yourself. You killed someone, so the fuck what? Bastard deserved it. What he doesn’t deserve is for you to fuck up your life over it. The way you been fucking women like they aren’t worth shit, and the way you been drinking, I’m surprised your dad held me back from beating the shit out of you. You better think twice before you put your feet on this mat. I ain’t fucking around. You done pissed me off.”
“If I’m floating, then pull me out of the water, man. Fight me with your fists, not your analyzing words. Give me your hand and help me get back to being me, ‘cause I’m burning, Aiden. Night after night, day after day, my brain follows the livewire leading back to that night, and it corrodes away my flesh like acid.” I step onto the mat, my toes digging into the cold cushy foam padding. It’s the softest it’s going to feel for both me and him. Shits like slamming your face against steel when you’re the victim behind a punch.
Before I even make it to him, he’s charging me like a bull. His head butts mine, and I swear on my life, for a minute, there’s two of him in front of me. Smiling that big goofy smile of his while wiping the sweat from his brow.
I lift my hand, take a swing, and land it across his jaw. My body is locked up tight. My heart stopping, and my lungs seizing hold of the raging fire burning within me. All I can hear as I sweep my leg out and drop Aidan to the floor are my own screams for taking another man’s life.
But the minute Aidan stands up, his eyes focused angrily on mine, I know he means business this time. He lands a punch to the side of my head, fingers grabbing hold of my skull and twisting me in some kind of headlock.
“You don’t ever feel less than the man you were raised to be. I don’t give a flying fuck if you killed someone. You’d do it again because that’s the kind of man you are. You care, and there isn’t a damn thing wrong with caring about taking someone else’s life if it means saving someone you love. But I’m here to tell you that if you let it fester, you’re gonna kill yourself. Now, fight me like you wanna hurt me. I taught you better than a dirty sweep to take me off my feet.”
His words and the brutal message behind them fuel me. With each swing of my arm that connects with his jaw and side of his face, the screams in my head decrease until they are nearly muted. They are still there, don’t get me wrong. But for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s also a form of silence. Releasing aggression does more for my soul than the bottle ever did. This feels damn good even as blood is running down my face.
10
Maria
I had more fun at the game than I’ve had in a very long time. It was nerve-racking yet relaxing. The magnetic intensity of Alex’s voice as he recalled play by action while giving me his undivided attention as well as focusing on the game and everyone surrounding us has me reeling. I can’t stop thinking about the man. And it wasn’t just him. It was his entire family. At first, his father was a bit standoffish. I suppose it’s understandable from what I’ve gathered on the Internet. The man is protective of his family. He reminds me quite a bit of my own dad. He doesn’t let anyone get close to his family or loved ones until he trusts them.
“Focus, Maria, focus on these damn numbers dancing
across the pages of your homework and not on Alex’s husky voice and the way he makes you feel.” I drum the eraser of my pencil on the lined notebook paper.
Dixie crooks her head to the side, staring at me. More than likely wondering what in the hell I’m talking about. I’ve been a bubbly mess since Alex brought me home from the game last night. He left me dizzy with his good-bye kiss, and if I don’t get my shit together, my school work will begin to suffer.
I sigh remembering Alex bringing me home to let Dixie out. Then he suggested we take her with us to a quaint sandwich shop off the beaten path after the game. We laughed and talked for hours outside on the patio while Dixie sat on his lap. It warms me enough to focus on my math problems. For the next hour, I drown in them, one after the next. The sound of my pencil skittering across the paper soothes me as I finish the last problem.
I slam the textbook shut and fist pump the air for fun. Hell yes, it feels good to be caught up in my work. Moving to Idaho and working as hard I’ve been has kicked my ass. I’ve always been the type of student who does work ahead of time. I study the syllabus and plan accordingly. I know, I know, incredibly boring, but it’s the way I tick. Cooper is the complete opposite. That man flies by the seat of his pants at everything he does. And still, everything he touches turns into gold. Just the thought of Cooper makes me a tad homesick.
I pick up my cell phone and FaceTime Dad. I know he’ll be at the B&B with Mom, finishing up their day. The phone rings three times before there’s an answer. My dad, my favorite person in the world, smiles brightly back at me. His dishwater-blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. It’s not long before Mom peeks over his shoulder.
“Give me the phone,” she chants, her fingers wiggling on the screen.
“Hi, guys!” I wave and feel tears nip at the corners of my eyes.
As much as I love it here in Idaho, I’m still homesick as hell. Call me a big baby.
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