Loving Him Off the Field(89)

“Exactly,” he growled. “Where are your clothes? The sneakers and the jeans and hoodies.”

She groaned in exasperation. “I had a job interview and didn’t want them to mistake me for a college student. Who cares? Killian, why are you here?”

“You got fired.” His eyes were so angry, it made her take a step back. “That jackass boss of yours fired you.”

“Um, he half-fired me, I half-quit.” She dug through her bag for her keys. “I’m not entirely sure what ended up being the official diagnosis there. Suffice to say, I don’t work at Off Season.”

“Because of me.”

“No, Killian.” She looked up, ready to rip him a new one for putting her through this. This torment of being near him without actually having any rights to him. Even professional ones. “Because of me. Because I couldn’t do the story anymore. I couldn’t . . .” She started to breathe heavily and forced herself to calm down. “I couldn’t be objective anymore. I couldn’t do it.”

“Because of me,” he said again, but his voice was softer this time.

“Because of us,” she answered just as softly. “Because I felt too much for you and I lost perspective. And I knew when I dropped the story, I’d get fired. Or I’d have to quit.” She still wasn’t sure what officially happened there. “But it was worth it. I wasn’t going to do some story on you alone, and there was no way in hell I’d do one about you and—” She glanced around, saw nobody nearby, then leaned in and whispered, “You and Charlie.”

He met her halfway and kissed her. Her mind screamed to back up, that this was what got her into trouble in the first place. But her heart, the one that had led the way from the beginning, weakened in a moment’s time. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she lifted up on her toes to add pressure.

Killian’s arms banded around her waist and drew her into his body. Oh, she’d missed this feeling. His hardness pressed against her soft curves, with pressure in all the right places. Then it all came back, and she pushed at his shoulders. Reluctantly, he let her go.

She couldn’t just fall back into that trap again. He was no longer a job risk for her, but her heart was still on the line. “Killian, why are you here?”

He waited, took a deep breath, then reached for her door. She started to tell him to wait until she dug her keys out, but her door opened easily. Raising a brow, she asked, “I’m sorry, did you break and enter into my apartment earlier?”

“I would have but, as it turns out, it wasn’t necessary. The apartment manager let me in. Didn’t ask for an ID or anything. The security here is a joke.” He took her elbow and guided her inside. “We’ll be having a chat about that later. Just come in, first.”

“Honestly, I don’t have a lot of time to be—oh.” She halted two feet in, which caused Killian to crash into her. He grabbed her before she could fall face-first onto the ground. “Okay, I have company.”

“What was I?” he asked into her ear, helping keep her upright.

“Not company,” she said, then gasped when he nipped her ear before letting her go. She put her bag on the floor and walked over to greet her unexpected guests lounging at the end of her bed. “Cassie, Trey, nice to see you both. Sorry about the last game, Trey.”

He smiled, his arm slung around Cassie like he didn’t have a care in the world. “It happens. Sorry you missed it.”

“It happens,” she echoed, grinning as he did. “Are you two in hiding or something? What’s going on?”

“The opposite, actually.” Cassie straightened on the bed, shifting so that her legs crossed beneath her. Her feet were only in socks, with her running shoes on the floor by the bed. “We’re ready to make an official, on-the-record statement about our relationship. Sort of our preemptive strike for when we’re seen together in public.”

“I’m done with the hiding,” Trey growled.

Cassie patted his thigh. “Yes, yes. No more fake glasses for you.” They grinned at each other, enjoying the private joke. Aileen glanced at Killian, who looked equally confused. So at least she wasn’t alone in being outside the loop there.

“Okay,” Aileen said slowly, opening her tote and taking her laptop out. She set it on her desk, along with her phone, and stored the bag to the side. Sitting in her computer chair, she was an arm’s length away from the bed. Killian perched on the arm of the sofa. “And you want me to help you figure out the next step? Pick a news station? Go with you to the interview? What?”