Hendrix (Raleigh Raptors 3)

We’d been in the air for ten minutes before Weston broke the silence.

“I never should have given him management control,” he muttered, looking out the window.

“It’s not his fault.” I leaned back in my chair and stared across the small table at him. Brynn was a few seats up, and the flight attendants had already delivered drinks, so we had relative privacy.

“That day, when you asked about risk?” He turned his gaze on me, propping his chin on his fist. “You were talking about Savannah.”

I nodded slowly.

“Was she worth it?”

“That’s not a simple answer.” My chest tightened. “You said you never fuck someone you can’t live without, and that’s exactly what she became…someone I can’t live without, and now I have to. Somehow.” I let my head fall back against the rich leather of the seat. “But when I think about before—before I kissed her, before any of this started, I can’t imagine not knowing what it felt like to be with her. And I’m not just talking about sex.” I snapped my gaze to his.

“I didn’t think you were,” he said softly, his focus drifting a few rows up for the span of a few heartbeats. “And now that you know how it’s ended?”

I winced. The pain was too raw to be explored, too fresh to autopsy, and yet I knew the answer. “I wouldn’t take it back.”

His eyebrows raised. “You’ve been traded away from your friends—including me, I might add—lost the woman you loved, and are moving to an entirely different state, and you still don’t regret it? The price wasn’t too steep?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” I joked, forcing a smile.

“I’m serious.” His expression tightened.

“I am in love with a woman who doesn’t give a shit about me.” I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on the table. “A woman who willingly broke my heart over a fucking contract, and yet I wouldn’t change it. Wouldn’t give up one goddamned memory.”

Two lines appeared between his eyebrows. “She said she broke up with you so you wouldn’t be traded. That has to mean something.”

“Yeah, that she values my stats for her team more than she values our relationship.” I shook my head. “If we even had a relationship. Fuck. Maybe it was all about the sex for her. Maybe I read the whole thing wrong. But I sure as hell know that I wouldn’t let her go willingly. Not for anything. I would have fought to the death to keep her if she’d given me the chance, but she didn’t. She walked away without so much as a backward glance.” That was the real kicker. I was wallowing in misery while everything in her world was sunny-side up. “I was the one who fell in love. Not her.”

Silence stretched between us as the miles passed in a blur of clouds.

“Then I guess all we can do is move you forward.”

I nodded, but my soul screamed that everything I wanted was behind me.

Two hours later, I stood in the main office of the South Carolina Cougars as the scariest man I’d ever seen slid a contract across his massive desk. Gareth Maxfield was six-five, with an intense stare, tats that extended past the white cuffs of his Armani shirt, and wore a suit like a weapon. It was easy to see why the guy had rumors swirling about possible ties to the mob.

He looked like he’d stepped straight out of a Tarantino movie.

“You regretting that whole let him keep managerial control move you made when you took over the Raptors?” he asked Weston with a slow drawl.

“Is that your not-so-subtle way of saying I told you so?” Weston cocked his head to the side.

A corner of Gareth’s mouth lifted into a smirk. “Hey, your loss is my gain. I’m just the lucky one getting him.”

“I’d say so. Getting one of the best wide receivers in the NFL because I play poker with you once a month seems pretty damned lucky.” Weston leaned back in his chair.

“What is this?” I asked, scanning over the contract. “I thought I already signed—”

“Those are the regulations for my team. We run a tighter ship than the Raptors.” He shrugged. “Show up on time or you're fined. We drug test every week, and I don’t tolerate that shit. You put a hand on a woman, you’re off the team. That kind of thing. Read it over.”

I scanned through and nodded. It was all stuff I did normally, anyways. I signed it, then slid it back across his desk. He grinned and offered his hand, then shook mine with a firm grip, respectful of the millions of dollars my hands were worth to him, but strong enough to let me know he was in charge.

“You’ll like it here, Malone. We take care of each other, we win, and most importantly, I don’t have a daughter for you to fuck.” He lifted a black brow over a pale green eye.