Dirty Player(48)

I laughed then, unable to help myself.

Before I could respond in the affirmative, she clapped her hands together. “Now, this is totally off topic, but he also told me about these fabulous bracelet cuffs you made that he saw one day and had wanted to buy. Do you still have them?”

“Um.” What? “Yes,” I said, once again getting whiplash by this girl. She was too sweet to resist, and suddenly Melissa was at my side.

“Hi, I’m Melissa. How about I help you out with those?”

Bethany grinned. “I’d like that. And it was really great meeting you, Shannon. I hope I see you again.”

I doubted it. “Thank you,” I said, for lack of anything better.

“Go to the back and fix your mascara,” Melissa whispered before she guided Bethany over to the displays of cuff bracelets. “Take a few minutes. I’ll help her out, but you’re shaking so hard you might fall over.”

I hadn’t realized it until she said something, but my entire body shivered.

I nodded and went to the back. Then I dropped my ass to my chair in the office, put my head in the palms of my hands, and cried out all the residual pain I’d been feeling.

This changed nothing. So Oliver didn’t cheat. He still didn’t love me. There was no way he could, not after hurting me so deeply twice and ignoring me.

Another slice of pain hit my chest and more tears fell. He would tell another woman what he thought of me, how bad he felt for hurting me, but he didn’t have the time to make it right.

What good was it knowing any of it?



***



Later, after Melissa had helped Bethany and then brought me a bottle of iced tea and a salad from down the street, and after I’d finished up two more bracelets, I was finally able to try to focus on my work again.

I had just sat down to work after taking a small break upstairs in the apartment, and Melissa was out front, dealing with the deliveries that had just arrived.

Another bell chimed, and I assumed it was the UPS man leaving, when Melissa’s voice went shrill and she snapped, “What in the hell are you doing here?”

I jumped in my seat as a male voice murmured in response, and was on my feet and moving toward the front of the building when I heard Melissa’s angry demand.

“I don’t care. Get out.”

“What is going on?” I asked, turning the corner only to once again stumble on my feet.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Patrick said, turning toward me and smiling.

I blinked rapidly, unable to move.

“She’s not your sweetheart,” Melissa clipped harshly, baring her teeth like she wanted to rip him to shreds. “Go away.”

Patrick glanced at Melissa, a quick sneer twisting his lips before he ignored her and turned back to me. “I was hoping we could talk.”

That one look in his eyes he gave Melissa before quickly being able to erase it told me everything I needed to know.

“No, Patrick. I don’t know why you’re here, but I don’t want to talk to you. We broke up. Hell, I moved almost twenty hours away to get away from you. I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I think I made it clear I want nothing to do with you.”

“Yes,” he said, his voice dropping in a way I used to think was sexy, but now I realized was arrogance. “I remember the last time we spoke.”

“Then you know she doesn’t want you,” Melissa said, still glaring at him.

Man, I loved my bestie. Now wasn’t the time for her to defend me. She and Patrick had always hated each other. “Melissa, please…give us a moment.”

“But—”

“No buts,” I said. “Please. This will take two minutes.”

She huffed, and I waited until she’d gone to the back before I turned and faced Patrick. He spoke before I could.

“I miss you, sweetheart. I know, I know I messed up, and I’m so sorry. But I love you. I still love you. Please, let’s go somewhere, let’s just go somewhere and talk.”

I shook my head, crossing my arms around my waist.

They were the right words, coming from the wrong damn man and for the wrong damn reasons.

I knew it.

Patrick was handsome. He was attractive in the pretty-boy way, and he took care of himself. Dressed in a long-sleeved plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and wearing gray linen shorts, he looked everything like the perfect, kind gentleman he’d always portrayed himself to be. I had been drawn in by his looks and his body and the security he’d offered me. His well-groomed ginger hair and light green eyes helped. He was just pretty.

I couldn’t summon up a single emotion for him. His eyes were hard as steel, his voice lacked sincerity.

“You’re here because you found out another man has me and you’re pissed I don’t want you. That’s all this is, Patrick.”

“Powell?” he asked, almost choking on the word. “He’s no good for you. Come on, he’s a rebound for you. Someone who wants to fuck you until he’s tired of you. You know football players, you’ve always said the same thing about them, and don’t think for a second I haven’t looked into his reputation. He’s a player. He fucks women, doesn’t go back for more, and leaves a trail of pussy who have spread their legs for him in every city he travels. You’re nothing but a meaningless fuck to him. But to me, you’re everything.”

My heart pounded in my ribs. My cheeks heated. There was no way for Patrick to know the full extent of the pain he’d just lanced straight through my already broken heart.

I shook my head back and forth rapidly, trying to shake away the pain he was dishing out. “Patrick,” I said and took a step back. My chin wobbled. Fuck. I couldn’t cry in front of him. I wouldn’t.

“Shannon,” he said and closed the space between us in three quick strides. His hand reached for my forearm and I gasped from the surprise. His other hand pressed to my cheek. “Let me show you how sorry I am. It’s killing me. I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But it won’t happen again.”

“You don’t want me,” I said as I flinched again at his sudden hold on me. “You’re mad you can’t have me. We both know it, Patrick. I’m never coming back to Des Moines. I’m staying here.”

“With Powell?” he asked, his green eyes beginning to glint with jealousy. Damn it. I knew it. “He’s no good for you.”

“That may be,” a masculine, very familiar voice said.

I gasped and pulled back only to see him…Oliver…standing in my doorway. I’d been so focused on Patrick I hadn’t heard the bell chime at the door.

“But if you don’t want my fist in your face, you’re going to get your hands off my girlfriend.”





Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT





OLIVER



The asshole’s eyes narrowed on me.

Shannon’s widened in surprise.

“You’re still touching her,” I said, stepping closer.

Red blurred the edges of my vision. Ever since the day before, I’d been trying to figure out what to say to Shannon to get her to believe nothing had happened with Bethany, to apologize for being such a fucking dick at the hospital. All of it sounded like bullshit. There was no way I could go to her without being able to explain everything in a way that made sense—that would make her forgive me, like I needed her to…desperately.

On top of all of it, I’d driven my parents back to Georgia the day before, turned around, and driven home. I hadn’t slept in almost forty-eight hours, but when I got a text from Bethany telling me she’d gone to explain to Shannon, I had come as soon as I could.

I’d almost wanted to strangle the little shit for not minding her own business.

“What are you doing here?” Shannon asked, wide-eyed as Patrick finally let her go when I got close enough to punch him. Screw my catching hand. I’d love to jam my fist into his face. That she thought I wasn’t any better than him, thinking that I could have cheated on her—her, of all people—made me want to punch my own face, too.

I glared at Patrick and reached out, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her to my side. She stiffened immediately, but fuck him. He wasn’t touching her again. If she didn’t forgive me, that was her choice and my fault, but there was no way he was leaving there thinking he had a chance of putting his hands on her again.

“I thought we had dinner plans,” I whispered, brushing my lips against her temple.

Patrick’s face flushed as I kept my eyes glued to him while I kissed her.

Shannon flinched again, but I held her tighter. Fuck, there was nowhere else I wanted her to be. Ever.

“You should go,” I said, glaring at Patrick. “You’ve lost her, and you won’t have her again. Leave before you make an ass of yourself.”

“He already did,” Shannon said. Her gaze had stayed fixed on him while I held her. “Go, Patrick.”

“He’ll throw you away,” Patrick said, his hands in fists like he wanted to rip her away from me.

Like fuck that would happen. Now that I had her in my arms, I wasn’t letting her go. I’d stay glued to her side until she forgave me.

“Never. You had something good and treated her like shit the entire time because you thought she had to work to be as good as you. I’ll never fucking throw her away like you did.”