“Keep walking,” Eric ordered.
“After all, if you’re willing to take my sloppy seconds, I should help you out. You can do the same for the next Shark she fucks, and we’ll just start a little club.”
I didn’t remember turning around or even moving. Suddenly, my fist connected with his jaw, then I followed him down to the ground, swinging again and again.
“Fuck! Lukas! Porter!” I vaguely heard Eric call out as I brought my fist back again.
“Connor!” Ivy’s voice broke through the haze, and I turned to see her in the doorway, horror displayed on every line of her face. “What the hell are you doing?”
The distraction cost me. Crosby struck back, his fist slamming into my upper cheek.
I saw stars, but I whipped around and struck again, a satisfying crunch sounding as my fist met his nose.
“Fuck!”
Arms pulled me off, lifting me to my feet and pinning my hands behind my back.
Crosby scrambled up and charged me.
Porter stepped in, taking him to the wall with the same ease he knocked off opposing players who entered his zone. “That’s enough,” he growled, his forearm pressed at the base of Crosby’s neck.
I couldn’t move. Eric and Lukas had me locked down.
“Walk out of here, now, Crosby, before I let him go at you again,” Eric warned.
Porter removed his arm and stepped aside so Crosby could pass.
Crosby’s nose dripped blood, the bone anything but straight.
“You might want to get that set,” I flat-out mocked him, even though I felt my eye already swelling shut.
“Fuck you,” he seethed.
“I’m fine,” I told the guys.
They trusted me at my word and let my arms go.
I turned slowly, keeping my eyes on Crosby as he walked by me, headed toward the door.
“And fuck you,” he told Ivy.
I found my arms pinned again, but only by Eric. More a reminder, less a barrier.
“My own teammate? You’re such a little slut.”
I saw red.
Lukas joined Eric, and now I really was restrained.
Ivy lifted her chin. “Well, I guess you’d be one to know, seeing how many times you fucked me while we were dating, right?”
The words sickened my stomach. Like I needed a damned reminder that he’d been inside her. That he’d had the one woman I’d longed for since the first second I’d set eyes on her. That I hadn’t been her first choice, which could mean I wouldn’t ever be her choice.
Because she’d looked right past me at that party and gone for him.
And in that second, as much as I knew I was falling for her, I remembered why I’d just about hated her for so long.
Crosby left, the only sound in the lounge coming from the throbbing bass from the speakers below.
Ivy turned toward me as I shook off the guys.
Her eyes locked with mine, both anger and a plea shining from those depths.
A plea for what? To understand her past? To stop punching the guy she’d loved? The guy she’d no-doubt choose again if he gave her the option? If he’d been worthy of risking everything to go against coach’s no-player rule, then there were real feelings there.
Hell, she wouldn’t even risk giving me a kiss freely.
She moved toward me, and I shook my head, knowing if I opened my mouth right now, only poison would come out, and neither of us needed that.
She stopped, startled, her eyes flickering to the Sharks around us. Then she lifted her chin again—so damn strong, shook her head at me, and walked out, her sister hot on her heels.
Maybe it was best for us both if she left.
Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt worse than my face.
That was a dull ache.
Ivy was shredding my damned soul.
Chapter 10
Ivy
One cup bit my hand with cold while the other one stung from the heat as I stood outside Connor’s front door.
Pretty much the definition of our…whatever we are to each other.
It was ten at night, probably way too late for a house call, but after they’d lost 1-4 in the first game of the second round, I figured he could use it. Or maybe I could. Either way.
When he didn’t answer, I juggled the cups in my arms and used the key he’d given me, hoping like hell I wasn’t overstepping a line.
A week ago I wouldn’t have been worried, but after the kiss, and what happened a couple of nights ago at Club Thirty-Five…
It only took me a few seconds to realize why he hadn’t answered the door.
He was in the pool, cutting through the water like a proper Shark.
His toned muscles rippling with each smooth stroke. The concentration on his face so intense he didn’t even notice that I’d slipped off my shoes and padded barefoot to the edge of the pool.
When he turned his head to make another lap, I noted his black-eye and cringed.
“That looks like it hurts,” I said as he finished the lap. And the fight on Tuesday—over me—was likely the reason why they’d lost the game tonight, or at least a contributing factor. Connor rarely missed shots, he was that powerful, and yet, tonight…
“You’re a regular Sherlock.” The bite in his tone made me feel like we’d taken ten steps backward, all the way to the place where he despised me.
I hated how it gnawed at the center of my chest.
I gently shook the two cups in my hands, looking down at him while he slowed to the edge of the pool. “Milkshake for Hannah,” I said, indicating one. “And a latte with a shot of vanilla for you.” I extended the coffee, and something softened in his hard eyes. “I kind of figured this was our thing when it came to apologizing.”
Though, when he’d apologized he really hadn’t had grounds, and while I hadn’t started the fight between him and Crosby, I was certainly the topic that led to it.
After an agony of seconds, Connor took the coffee, sipped it, and set it on the edge of the pool where he now leaned against. Beads of water trailed down his sculpted test, and I couldn’t stop myself from imagining following their trail with my tongue.
“Lettie had a sleepover,” Connor said before he took another drink.
“Okay?” I asked, setting Hannah’s shake down on the wrought iron table near the pool.
“Hannah was invited,” he said, eyeing the ice cream.
“Oh,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called first.”
He took another sip from his coffee.
“I was afraid you’d tell me not to come.”
Silence as he continued to drink that coffee.
I wrung my hands. Damn him. Why couldn’t I be the confident Ivy when around him? Why did he have to make me feel…
Vulnerable.
Exposed.
Wanted.
“Look,” I said, mustering up any sense of confidence I may have possessed. I took a seat near him at the edge of the pool and allowed my bare feet and legs to dangle in the water. “I’m sorry about the other night.”
He furrowed his brow.
“The fight? With…him.” I legit couldn’t say his name, I was that pissed. “I never meant for that to happen. The last thing I’d ever want to do is mess with your game. Or for you to get hurt.”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he set the coffee down. The move brought him close enough for me to get a really good look at the purple and dark blues circling his eye. I reached without thinking, lightly tracing my fingers over his slightly swollen skin.
A small hiss escaped his lips, and I drew my hand back.
“You didn’t do this,” he finally said.
“I did.” I pressed my lips together. “I ruin everything I touch.”
Connor shifted in the water, standing almost between my legs as he cupped my cheek, his fingers wet and warm against my skin. “That’s bull shit.”
I arched a brow at him. “I have decades of proof if you need it.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Or,” I continued. “You could just take the other night as evidence.”
“That only proves what an asshole Crosby is, not that it was ever a mystery.”
A dark laugh forced itself from my lips.