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Go Hard: A Bad Boy Sports Romance(103)



“Thanks for the whisky,” she said.

“Yeah,” I grunted. “Sure.”

“Let me know if you leave. Again, I can cover a week. Figure your shit out.”

“Yes, sir.” I stood up and saluted her.

She laughed. “God, that feels strange. The first time you’ve actually given me some respect.”

“First time you deserved it.” I grinned at her.

“At ease, soldier.” She turned and walked away, slipping out of my apartment silently.

I shook my head, completely amazed and mystified. Lieutenant Livy was much more badass than I had realized.

I finished my drink.

It took me two minutes to decide what I wanted to do.

I packed a bag in five. Another two minutes to piss and another ten to book a flight.

Then I was out the fucking door, and I wasn’t looking back.



It was a block just like any other.

Finding Selena wasn’t hard. Her parents were still listed in the phone book, and all it took was one call to her mom to get the address. Tracy was nice as hell, and she seemed pretty happy to hear from me.

So it seemed like Selena hadn’t told her the truth yet, which was good. Maybe she wasn’t as angry at me as she probably should’ve been.

I felt like an asshole when the cab dropped me off. My stuff was back at the hotel, and all I had were the clothes on my back. For some reason I felt like I should have brought a present, if not for Selena, then for her parents. But I had no clue how Chris was holding up, and so I didn’t want to do something stupid.

I was fucking nervous, I realized.

I hadn’t been nervous since my first tour of duty. I’d done some seriously heinous shit in my time, some really intense stuff, and never once had I felt butterflies.

But as I paid the cab and turned toward the nondescript Northeast Philadelphia row home, I had fucking butterflies.

It was unreal.

Nash Bell didn’t feel nervous. Little girls about to sing in front of their high school class got nervous.

I shook my head. I had to get myself together.

I walked up the walkway, up the stoop, and stood there in front of the door.

All I had to do was knock. Or maybe I should ring the bell. Fuck. For some reason I couldn’t lift my hand, couldn’t bring myself to knock.

What if she didn’t want to see me anymore? It wasn’t like I was used to telling women that I loved them. Fuck, she was the first one actually. I’d never wanted to say it, never been interested in love.

This must have been what it made you do, though, if I was so damn nervous.

“Nash?”

I turned around, a little surprised.

How were people sneaking up on me so much lately?

I stared as Selena as her mom climbed out of a car parked on the street. I must have been too nervous to even notice them pull up.

Selena stared at me, not saying a word, but Tracy was smiling. “Nash! It’s great to see you.”

“Hey there, Tracy,” I said, managing to smile. I walked toward them.

“How are you?” she asked, coming over and giving me a hug.

“I’m great. How are things here?”

“Oh, you know,” she said, frowning. “Is L.A. good?”

“It’s amazing.”

“Good. Good.” She looked at me and then at Selena. “Okay, well, I’ll let you two talk.” She quickly walked away, up the stoop, and into the house.

Selena was wearing tight black jeans, a simply white T-shirt, and her hair was pulled back into a bun. So simple, and yet so fucking perfect. That was how I liked her, not made up, not decked out in fancy clothes. I liked her simple, in jeans and a T-shirt, no makeup, just a fucking smile.

Except there was no smile there.

“Hey,” I said to her.

She stood across from me, her arms crossed. “What are you doing here, Nash?” she asked. “I can’t do any interviews right now.”

“How’s your dad doing?”

“He’s hanging in,” she said.

“Good.” I stared at her. “I’m not here about interviews.”

“Why are you here, Nash? Because I’m pretty sure you made how you feel pretty clear when you let me get on that plane alone.”

“I know,” I said. “Listen.”

“No. You listen, you asshole.” She was getting worked up. “I’m done with this. I don’t work for you. I’m not your fucking employee or some tool for you to use. You want to go back into combat? Fine, go, I don’t care. Just don’t show up on my doorstep ever again.”

“Selena—” I said, but she cut me off.

“No, no. I’m finished. Get it? You’re just going to run away to war again. I don’t know why you’re here, but I don’t care.”

“I love you,” I said.

That stopped her tirade. “What?”

“I love you,” I said. “I made a mistake when I let you leave. Fuck, I’ve been miserable in L.A. without you.”

“You love me?” she said softly.

I nodded, stepping closer. “Fuck, girl, I’ve loved you for a while now.”

“A while now,” she repeated.

“I’m done with it,” I said. “I’ll always be a SEAL, but I’ll never leave you again.”

She stood there staring at me, her mouth parted, the anger clearly having faded away. She said nothing, didn’t make a move to come closer, just watched me.

“Well?” I said, smiling. “I love you. Fuck, I do.”

She threw her arms around me and kissed me hard.

Lightning broke through my body as I kissed her back, pulling her tightly against me.

We kissed like that, standing out in front of her parents’ house, almost like we were alone in the world.

Finally, she pulled away. “You can’t leave me again,” she said.

“I know.”

“I love you too then, asshole.”

“Yeah,” I said, grinning hugely, “I know you do.”

I kissed her again, and I knew that I didn’t need a week to figure things out. I’d already made my choice.

The general was going to be pissed, but fuck him. I’d keep doing their domestic propaganda missions, but I didn’t need to make them happy all the time. I was done being their fucking lackey, their little lap dog they thought they could push around.

I had Selena now, and that was what mattered. I didn’t need them anymore.

I kissed her hard and hoped she understood that.





33





Selena





One Year Later





I looked down at the ring on my finger and smiled.

It was funny how things could start to mean something else. One second it has all these bad feelings, this negativity, and the next it feels completely fresh.

Once upon a time, my engagement ring had made me sad. When I looked at it, I knew that it was just a lie. Maybe I felt something for the man that had given it to me, but that wasn’t reality. We were lying to the world, all because I needed money and he wanted a better job.

Then, things happened. Lots of things happened. Lots of dirty, sweaty, incredible things happened. And the ring began to mean something very, very different.

When I looked at my ring over a year after he had first given it to me, it stood for love. It wasn’t a lie, not anymore.

I leaned back in my chair, smiling up at the little bungalow. The sun was bright in the late afternoon, and I felt a bead of sweat roll down my back. The glass of iced tea next to me was sweating, just like I was.

What a lovely day. The garden was coming in nicely, especially since I had so much time to work on it. Ever since we’d gotten the news all those months ago, Nash had been adamant that I never worked again. I missed my little part-time job, but I had a bigger full-time job coming up, growing inside me.

I looked up and saw him standing in the doorway to our little house in the hills, smiling at me.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said, walking toward me. He was wearing a pair of cutoff jean shorts and nothing else, his muscles tanned and tensed, incredibly sexy.

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” I asked.

“You know the answer to that.”

I laughed as he kissed me on the cheek and crouched down next to me. He kissed my stomach next and smiled. “How’s Chris doing today?”

“He’s good,” I said.

“And how are you?”

“Fine,” I said. “Bored. Ready to give birth already.”

He laughed. “We have a long way to go before that happens.” He paused and looked back at the house. “Your mom said she’s going to move out here,” he said quietly.

“I know,” I admitted. “Ever since Dad died, well, she doesn’t want to be alone out there anymore. You know?”

He sighed. “Does she have to live with us?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Fine,” he grunted. “But we’re getting a bigger house.”

“Fine with me.”

He kissed me again and stood up.

“Look at you, my pregnant wife. How’s it feel to know that we never have to lie to the media again?”

“Speak for yourself,” I said. “I love lying to them. Makes me feel alive.”

He laughed. “Do what you want, babe. Just don’t tank this movie.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

He shrugged. “Part of me thinks it’s going to fail. But part of me doesn’t give a fuck.”

“General Prick will give a fuck.”