“I’d rather come,” he said, making us both laugh.
I finally pushed him away—because it was apparent he wasn’t going to be the one to do it.
“You did quite a lot of that the last two days.”
He yanked me back. “So did you.” Then, he started kissing me again, and so help me—I felt powerless in his arms.
Flashes of what my dad might say if he caught wind of what I’d done began playing in front of my eyes.
“Oh, crap,” I said, moving my head back. “We have to stop.” I practically gasped for breath.
Trey’s mouth was open as he, too, breathed erratically. “I know, I just can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”
The look in his beautiful, blue eyes, and the way he wouldn’t let me go was beginning to wear me down.
And that couldn’t happen.
Yeah, Trey wanted me now—but he was never with anyone very long.
At least not according to any of the gossip sites online.
And I would know—since I regularly searched out his name.
Everywhere.
So, even if it wasn’t “illegal” for our two teams to—mingle—it wasn’t like Trey would keep me around for long anyway.
That thought—even though it was true—made me sad.
“I had a great time. Let me know when you file the papers—and how much it is,” I reminded him. We’d agreed that he would contact his lawyer to start the divorce—or annulment, or whatever we had to do.
“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry,” he said as his eyes scanned over my face.
I shook my head. “No, this was half my fault, too. I’ll pay my fair share.”
Trey had been adamant that he’d cover the cost of the lawyer—or lawyers.
I had a good idea of what he made a year. Huge contracts like his were often blasted all over the media.
Plus, not long ago, he’d scored a deal with one of the biggest condom brands in the world.
I could only imagine how much they paid the notorious, Trey Turner, to be the face of safer sex.
Which had kind of baffled me—since not once had he—we—used one.
It was fine, though.
I was on birth control, and we were both clean.
Still, I’d expected him to have his pockets full of the sealed, foil freebies.
His grip on me loosened. “You’re not paying for shit, now stop mentioning it. You’re killing the mood.”
I took the opportunity to fully back away from the hockey player’s reach.
“I’m paying for half of my shit, Trey. We both did this together. I don’t know how much it’ll be, but I’m good for it.”
I mean, it couldn’t cost that much, could it?