Taming His Tutor

…

Abbi unhooked her legs from around his waist. Sweat slicked, and now that there was an inch between them, it cooled her quickly.

He straightened and stepped back. Abbi couldn’t look him in the eye. She glanced about, desperate to leave.

Lesson learned. The hard way.

She should have skipped this one. As pleasurable as the sex had been, she’d just put her already-mangled heart through the shredder.

And she hadn’t thought through the consequences of having no clothes with her. Reaching for her coat, she tried to claim back a shred of dignity. “Doesn’t feel as satisfying as I thought it would.”

He just stared at her, like she was someone he didn’t know.

She glanced past him, pulling her belt tight, and saw the table littered with papers. Plans. She stepped closer to get a better look. Plans for another ex-warehouse gym conversion. There was going to be a small apartment on the top floor of his new facility. Just like this one.

“You’ll move in there?” It wasn’t really a question. She saw the name of the place on the corner of the plans, a satellite city a good two hours away.

He nodded. “Install a manager here.”

Their lessons weren’t just over. He was leaving. He wouldn’t be ten minutes away. She wouldn’t have to worry about bumping into him.

The finality of the situation hit her. This so wasn’t what she wanted. Not at all.

Her pitiful heart thumped. This was it, then? This was the good-bye? Despite her hurt, her mind searched for a stalling tactic. She couldn’t help asking. “You coming to the party tomorrow night?”

“No.”

“They’re launching the app,” she added, pretending she hadn’t heard him. “Well, really it’s a glorified party favor, but I’m looking forward to seeing how it goes.”

“I’m sure it’ll be a big success.”

And it would. A lighthearted, fun guide to flirting and having fantastic sex. Not for finding true love. Not for navigating your way through heartbreak.

“I have a meeting to go to,” he added. “So I can’t be there.”

No, he didn’t. He was lying. And Abbi discovered that bout of angry sex had done nothing to lessen her anger. “You’re going to cut me from your life now that the deal is done, aren’t you?”

He said nothing.

“That’s what you do.” She stepped up to him, no longer trying to act cool. Simply unable to. She was too hurt, too angry. She lost it and lashed out. “You walk away and don’t ever look back. The Burns family. Brooke. Basketball. Every lover you’ve ever had. And now me.”

“Abbi,” he said very quietly. “I can’t be what you want.”

“How do you know what I want?” she snapped.

He closed his eyes for a second, his lips pressed tightly together. “You deserve better than what I can give you.”

“Oh please,” she scoffed. “You deserve better than what you let yourself have.”

His eyes flashed open. “What—”

“You run away,” she interrupted. “You run from everything first, don’t you? That way it’s within your control. You reject. You avoid.” She got it now, so clearly. “So you’re not rejected.”

“Maybe I’ve had enough rejection in my life,” he ground out.

But he didn’t deny it.

“You should reach out,” she rashly pressed on despite the fury she saw lighting his eyes. “You should call your sister. Your old team…cutting them out can only hurt. Them and you.”

He shook his head.

Suddenly her heartache wasn’t for herself. But for him. “You could have it all, Joe.” He really, really could. And he should. “Look, I know you don’t want that with me, or anyone yet. But one day you’ll walk past some woman with whom you should have it all. And you won’t be able to. Because you’re still too scared. You run away from anything that might require a real emotional commitment. You’ve been hurt, I get that. But you’re always going to be searching. Always going to be unsatisfied. Because unless you fight you’re never going to find it.”

“You think I didn’t fight? You think I didn’t try my damnedest?” He squared up to her. One naked, angry man.

“Not for this…you just avoid it. Your sister. Your past.” It was such a shame. So needless. “You think ‘everyone is better off’ without you—that’s your line. But the fact is you’re a coward. You’re too scared to let anyone in.”

“Analysis, Dr. Abbi?” he shouted scathingly. “I never wanted you to analyze me. You think you’re so fucking smart? You can’t even sort your own issues out. You’re so insecure you need sex instruction?”

No. She was not going to let him take it out on her and tear her up. “Yeah, I was that insecure.” She swiped away a tear that had spilled. “But now I know that with the right guy, sex can be great. So thanks for helping me. I’m only sorry I can’t help you.”

Because he was the right guy; he was absolutely the right guy for her.

“I don’t want your help,” he snapped. “And I sure as shit don’t want your pity.”

Yeah, there it was. She wasn’t the right woman for him. If she was, he’d know it wasn’t pity she felt. But the kind of concern and caring that only came with love.

He was viciously angry. She could see his fists clenched tightly, shaking down by his sides. But she wasn’t scared for her safety—not physically, anyway.

Ignoring his nudity, he stalked to the door and flung it open. Stood beside it pointedly.

Sick to her stomach, she slowly walked toward it.

“I can’t do this, Abbi,” he said, staring at the floor. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”

Chapter Eighteen

“Be spontaneous. Daring.”

For hours and hours Joe couldn’t stop the words replaying in his head. His own stupid lies. The harsh truths Abbi had spat at him. The long-buried memory of his mom.

Better off without me…

That damn cliché was what his mom had said when she’d left him and his sister with the child welfare authority. As an adult, he knew that it had been the frustrated, off-the-cuff comment from a desperate woman who couldn’t cope as a mother. He knew, on one level, that it wasn’t true. Her leaving wasn’t his fault. He was a grown man, for heaven’s sake. But that five-year-old was still buried within him. Still hurt. Still twisting those words so they came from him—that she’d been better off without him.

You deserve better than what you let yourself have…

Abbi’s words haunted him more. She thought he’d been denying himself? Is that what he’d been doing? Didn’t he have it all? Didn’t he have everything he could ever want? Wasn’t he more successful than anyone had ever imagined he could be?

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Yes. Yes. Yes.

And yet. There was that underlying fear that pushed him to achieve more and more. Because what if he didn’t achieve? What if he failed?

He couldn’t trust that anyone would still want him if he stuffed up. His own mother hadn’t wanted him whether he screwed up or not. No foster family had either, not for long. His sister hadn’t—not enough to turn to him when she’d most needed help. He hadn’t risked his teammates. He’d made that choice for them.

Same with women.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt them. But it wasn’t all because he was some damn hero. It was because he hadn’t wanted to be hurt.

But he hurt now.

Abbi had been right.

He’d meant to be nothing more than a dumb jock for her. Good for fun and fucking. So easy and achievable, and in the process he’d boost her confidence and play out an old school fantasy.

She wasn’t supposed to rip him open and hold his most deeply buried fear up in front of him. She wasn’t supposed to make him want more from her. She wasn’t supposed to make him want everything he’d sworn he didn’t need.

Yeah, now he realized what he really wanted. Honesty. Emotion. Trust.

Security.

Not financial. But warmth. The comfort of knowing he was loved and cared for and wanted.

By her. Only Abbi.

He wanted to give that to her. Wanted her to turn to him on anything or everything. He hated being shut out.

Sure, he’d fallen for her body—he’d dived right in and feasted on every succulent inch of her flesh. But while her body might have captured his cock, it was her personality that had imprisoned his heart. His head. His whole damn mind was devoted to her, like she was queen of some cult.

And it hurt like fuck. Because he’d pushed her away. He’d turned his back on what she might have offered—because what she’d offered had scared the crap out of him.

Only now did he realize what he’d done.

He stayed in his apartment all the next day, pacing, pretending to do paperwork. But all the while his distress built. He hated himself for being so cruel to her. He stared at his phone. It rang. He didn’t answer. There was only one person he wanted to talk to and she wasn’t calling. She never would.