Long: A Secret Baby Sports Romance(116)

“Fine,” Cole said, waving his hand. “He won’t talk to anyone. But he did suggest I check out the staff, see if maybe someone there was involved.”

I nodded. That made sense. If it wasn’t the paparazzi, then it had to be someone even closer. “Okay,” I said.

He cocked his head. “What’s wrong with you?”

My heart skipped a beat. He could probably sense my hesitation and my nervousness.

“Nothing. Just, don’t you think we should hire someone to help with this?”

“I can handle it,” he grunted.

“I’m sure. But if you can’t?”

“Then we’ll pay.”

“But you said—”

He stood up, frustrated. “I know what I said.”

He closed the distance between us, looking at me hard.

“We can’t let this ruin everything, Cole,” I said softly.

“It won’t. We’ll handle it.” I could feel the heat rolling off him.

“You know what would help?” I asked.

He suddenly grabbed me by the waist and pulled me against him. I stumbled and landed right against his chest, breathing in his smell. I felt the familiar thrill run through my stomach, my pussy already soaking wet as my heart hammered a staccato rhythm.

“What’s that, sis?”

I looked up into his eyes, the stubble along his jaw giving him a rugged look, and wanted to bite his lip. Was that what I was becoming, a girl that could barely control herself around a handsome boy? It was so pathetic, and yet it was true.

“A divorce could help.”

He smirked. “I thought we were done with that.”

“Not until we’re not married anymore, we’re not.”

“I told you. I’m not ready.” I went to move away, but he held on tightly, giving me this deep look. “I’m not the type to chase,” he grunted.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You know what I mean. And what I want.”

I shook my head, my cheeks turning red. I had to look away.

“I’m just worried about our parents.”

He let me go and moved back toward the door. I watched him go with a sharp breath, feeling his absence strangely in my chest.

“Whatever you say. You know where to find me when you change your mind.” He paused, his hand on the doorknob, his face breaking out into a cocky smile. “And I know you will.”

I watched as he turned the knob and left my room. I wanted to yell at him or throw something, or maybe throw myself at him and let him make me yell. Every new step was one more frustrating experience after another.



“So he’s back home?”

“Yeah, he’s definitely back.”

I lay on my bed staring up at the ceiling, the phone cradled next to my ear as I absently picked at my nails. It was a bad habit, but I was pretty distracted.

“Get your divorce yet?” Lacey asked.

“Ugh. You know I haven’t.”

“Come on, girl. We both know you’d be single and free if you really wanted to be.”

I sighed. She did have a point, but it was more complicated than that. We had to be civil, a part of the same family, no matter how badly I wanted to just force him to go through with it. Legally I could, but it felt wrong. He’d be pissed and our relationship would be completely ruined.

Whatever that relationship was. The past two days hadn’t really cleared anything up.

We barely talked. Or at least I pretty much scampered away like a small, scared forest animal every time I heard him approach. For his part, he spent all his time working out and training for his fights. He didn’t try to break down my door and take me as his bride, which I half expected him to do each night.

Instead, he seemed to sense my hesitation. Actually, he didn’t really have to sense anything since I was probably making it pretty obvious. It was stupid and I knew it, but I didn’t know what else to do.

Every time I was near him, I wanted him to pin me against a wall and make me feel the things I knew he could.

Instead, we had more pressing issues.

“Maybe you’re right, but that doesn’t really change our situation.”

“No, I guess it doesn’t. So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, Lace.”

“Listen to me,” she said seriously. “You have a hunk of a human man in the room next to yours, a man that will probably make you feel things you never imagined. Take advantage of this.”

“I can’t. It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” she said, exasperated. “You keep making excuses.”

“We’re being blackmailed, okay?” I blurted out, annoyed.

There was a beat of silence.

“Are you joking?” she asked.