Axel (Carolina Reapers 1)

“And those are the only circumstances I can be alone with you? You’d only be sitting here with me if your job was on the line?” Ire dripped into my tone, and I shook my head.

“No,” she whispered. “Fine, yes. You’re…” She sighed.

“I’m what?” I challenged.

“You’re too much...everything. Too big. Too fast. Too hot.” She shook her finger in my direction. “Don’t even play that you don’t know you’re gorgeous.”

“I figured you were immune to looks after working with the Sharks and now the Reapers.” She’d left the Seattle team and the Seattle fiancé.

“It’s impossible to be immune to someone your size, Axel. You take up all the air in the car.” She folded her arms across her chest, and I almost laughed at how annoyed she looked.

“How are things going with the ex-fiancé?” I prodded.

She slowly turned her head to glare at me, and I thanked God that we were minutes away from Lukas’, because she might really kill me. “He is not up for discussion.”

“Then neither is that contract.”

“I’m sorry? That’s personal!” she snapped.

“And you asking me to uproot my entire life to move to the United States isn’t?”

Her teeth clicked as she closed her mouth.

As much as she loved her job, it wasn’t helping her heal. She’d been here a year ago when that asshole made her choose between her job or his love, and she’d rightfully chosen herself. Except she hadn’t really followed through.

She was thinner, paler, and unhappy. The light in her eyes had dimmed, and even her small snaps of temper lacked the fire she’d had last year. She needed someone to push her out of her little workplace comfort zone.

“Sign the contract, Axel, and let me go home.”

“No.” Because neither of those options appealed to me, and they wouldn’t help her, either.

* * *

I walked in from practice the next day to find Langley in downward facing dog. Aka, here’s my ass, isn’t it lovely?

She had a truly amazing ass. Hell, everything on the woman was perfect from her head to her toes. What could have possibly been so great about her ex’s job that he was willing to lose her for it? Careers came and went. The love of a woman like Langley? That’s the shit you held onto at night when you were both old and crinkle-eyed.

“You’re home!” She popped up to stand, her ponytail swishing behind her.

“I am,” I admitted, then stalked to Lukas’ ultra-modern kitchen for the coldest bottle of water I could find. I was mid-chug when she walked in, braced her hands on the counter and then jumped so she sat on the hard granite surface.

Her sports bra did the impossible, lifting and curving around her breasts. Weren’t those things supposed to flatten her out and keep my dick limp?

Not a limp dick in sight, that was for sure.

She stretched, drawing my eyes to the toned muscles of her stomach, gently lined, but not overly muscular. Langley was soft in every place that screamed to be touched.

I needed to keep my damned hands to myself.

“So are you dating yet?” I asked, coming to stand next to her.

She raised a flirtatious eyebrow. “You know that could be seen as sexual harassment.”

“What you’re wearing is sexual harassment,” I muttered.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she ended up rolling them. “No, I’m not dating. Not going to date. Ever. The only person I’m dating is myself, because then if I let myself down, I’ll know exactly who to blame.”

Our eyes locked, sending my pulse skittering faster than any blue line drills could have.

“You think that sounds stupid, don’t you?” she asked, her brown eyes so close I could make out the flecks of gold in them.

“I think it sounds lonely.”

She sucked in her breath. “Lonely is better than heartbroken.”

“Loved is better than heartbroken. You know how you get back to loved? You date.”

“Well, I’m going to skip that phase in my next relationship. It’s exhausting. I’ll just jump into marriage or something. Besides, what would you know about dating?” she challenged.

“I date plenty,” I answered with a grin, leaning forward on my palm and invading her personal space.

Her eyes widened, her pupils flaring in an awareness she couldn’t hide, just like that little jump in the pulse at her neck. She could play that she was immune, but she wasn’t. She leaned farther away from me, only to bring back that damned envelope. “So you know how your first offer was for ten million?”

“Yes.” Now I leaned back, putting some distance between us.

“Add a zero.”

My brow puckered. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s an eight-year, hundred-million-dollar contract.” Her eyes danced like she’d handed me the holy grail.

“Not signing it.” I took my water bottle and headed for the shower.

“Axel!”

I turned because the sound of my name on her lips sounded so incredibly sweet.

“I got you a fifteen million dollar signing bonus. You’ll be one of the highest paid players in the entire league.” This time her eyes held a sheen of desperation that I downright hated.