Cannon (Carolina Reapers 5)

My stomach twisted at the thought of him ever touching her. At anyone touching her.

Coach broke up the conversation, walking into the locker room with a clipboard. “Okay, Reapers. We’re about a week out from preseason training, which means these little meetups won’t just be for fun, they’ll be for your salary.” He crossed the locker room toward the bulletin board. “You’ll see the schedule right—who the fuck put this here?” He unpinned whatever Sterling had stuck there. “Seriously. Cannon, you know we’re all happy for you and Miss VanDoren—”

“Mrs. Price,” Sterling corrected him with a shit-eating grin.

“Right. Whatever. But do you really need to pin your wedding invitation to the goddamned board? It’s not like you don’t already have the front page of the society section.”

My eyes narrowed on Sterling. “Really?”

“Just wanted to show off that I got mine first. See, that’s why I should be the best man.” He raised his arms, palms out.

“You got yours first because you showed up at my house last night and begged Persephone for one,” I snapped.

“Still. Got mine first. Suck it, Ward.” He shot Logan a look and sat back down.

Coach chucked the invite at him. “Right. If you’re all done gossiping like girls, maybe you’d like to see the schedule.”

“Best man, huh?” Logan asked as we walked to the parking lot ten minutes later.

“I probably should have asked you first.”

“You never have to ask. I’ll be there.”

“Thanks.” I hit the unlock button on my car, my eyes scanning to see if my father had somehow sneaked his way into the player’s lot. He was probably long gone by now, but it never failed to shake me for a few weeks after he’d randomly show up and ask for money.

“You doing okay with this thing?” Logan asked as I tossed my bag into the back of the Hummer. “The fake marriage thing,” he clarified in a whisper.

“I know what you meant.” I shut the hatch and turned to my best friend. “Honestly? I’m torn between keeping my distance from her and just living in the moment.” It was the closest I’d ever gotten to admitting how badly I wanted her.

He watched me carefully, then sighed. “Shit. If this ends—”

“When this ends,” I corrected.

“Fine. When this ends, it’s going to fuck you up. It’s going to fuck you both up.”

“Well aware. That’s why keeping my distance is the smart move.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“You falling for her?”

That ache was back in my chest, demanding to be acknowledged. “It doesn’t matter what I do or do not feel for Persephone. This is doomed for every obvious reason. I can’t stand her fucking friends. They look down on her for marrying me. Her father hates me. Her mother is dying. She’s the purest, kindest woman I’ve ever known, and she deserves someone way better than I am.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Right. I mean, why settle for the most driven, tenacious, protective asshole I know when you can run right back to the simpering, weak little banker who got everything from his daddy and doesn’t know his Sartre from his Nietzsche?” He rolled his eyes in mock indignation.

“You’re not helping.” My jaw clenched.

“You’re not seeing what’s right in front of you,” he countered.

The leash on my temper slipped a few inches. “In what fucking world do things like this,” I gestured to my torso, “work out when it comes to a woman like her? I’m the guy you fuck for fun, not the guy you marry.”

Which was what she wanted. Sure, she said she wanted me, but how the hell could she want someone as scarred and fucked up as I was when she could have her literal pick of any man on the planet?

“She didn’t ask you for the annulment. She asked you to marry her for real,” he reminded me.

“To make her mom happy!”

“Or maybe to make herself happy!” he hissed. “Jesus, she bought you at that auction. She watches you when you’re not looking, and it’s been going on for almost two years. That woman is so far gone for you that she might as well tattoo that ring on her finger. If you want to run away from this because you’re scared, I get it. I do. It’s fucking terrifying to give yourself over to someone completely. To give a woman the power to destroy you. But you’re fooling yourself if you don’t see that she already has that fucking power in those hands of hers. I’ve seen it every time you’ve put yourself in front of her against a threat, and every time you have to rip your eyes away from her.”

“What the fuck are you trying to say?” I ripped my hand over my still-damp hair.

He shook his head, obviously searching for words. “I’m saying that if you’re torn between keeping your distance and living in the moment, then my suggestion as your friend is that you live in the moment.”