“No, I was uh—”
“Thinking about the last time you saw me without a shirt on?”
I nod but end up saying, “No.” He laughs, finding humor in the fact that he’s embarrassed me.
I’m rooted in my spot as he walks over to me. We’re the only ones in the gym and that frightens me a bit. I’m not afraid of him, but of myself. He’s sexy and enticing. He walks with a purpose and holds my attention by the way he’s looking at me, like he wants to devour me, and I find that I want that, too.
When his hand reaches out, I lean forward and allow him to stroke my cheek. I find myself pushing into the softness of his fingers until he’s cupping my face. My skin tingles while my heart picks up speed. I step forward, placing my hand on his wrist where I can feel his pulse beating rapidly.
Behind us, the door slams, and we jump apart. The voice mumbles an apology before disappearing.
“Saylor.”
I hold my hand up and shake my head. “Don’t. That was a mistake.”
“Don’t say that.”
“But it was.” Wasn’t it? I don’t know, because I can’t look him in the eye and say those words. I don’t want him to see right through me, to see that I’d give anything to not need this job, and give into the longing that I feel for him.
“I don’t know why you always shut me out.”
“Because I could lose my job, Travis, and I have a daughter to take care of.”
“So quit,” he says, as if it’s that easy.
“And do what? Another night with you isn’t worth quitting my job. I’m sorry, but someone has to be the responsible one, and that’s me.”
“We’d be good together,” he tells me as he steps forward and places his hand on my hip. We were good together, but sadly, as much as I want to, I don’t see a future with us.
I step away, adding some much needed distance between us. “Is there a place we can sit down and talk before we meet with Stone and Wilson? I want to go over your schedule and make sure you’re in agreement with the events I’ve chosen. Plus, there are a few things we need to discuss.”
“Discuss what, exactly?”
I swallow hard and ready myself for the explosive temper that I know is going to rear its ugly head. “More women are coming forward, claiming you raped them, too.” I say the words so fast that they seem jumbled, but he catches every single one. I take another step back, and his baby blues turn almost black, his jaw clenches, and his fist flies into the wall.
Seven
Travis
Saylor steps in front of me as my arm cocks back in preparation to pummel the wall again with my fist. She looks at me with fear in her eyes, scared that I’m going to hit her, which is something that I’d never do. My clenched hand hangs suspended in the air, my pulse beating rapidly and my breathing out of control. My chest heaves, and my heart races as her fingers ghost over my skin, her hand wrapping around my bloodied knuckles. The tension eases slightly, but the anger still lingers. I don’t think that will ever go away. It’s one thing to be accused of something that I’ve done. Being an asshole in the batter’s box, a prick in the clubhouse, the prankster with the team, but to have these inflammatory accusations being spread about me is ridiculous, and more importantly, they’re hurtful. Not only to my self-esteem, but also to my career.
“Please stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Her voice is demanding, authoritative. She wants me to stop because it’s her job, not because she cares. When that’s all I want her to do, care about me.
“All I am is a paycheck to you. Move out of my way, Saylor.”
“Travis, please. You’re scaring me.” Gone is the boss, and in her place is the soft, sensitive woman who hasn’t given me the time of day since she left me at my house, pleading with her not to leave. To stay the night, in my arms, and have breakfast with me the next morning. That wasn’t the first time I’ve been rejected, but it was the first time I had longed for a woman so deeply that my heart hurt when she left.
The grip of her hand on mine tightens, and even though it’s not enough to stop the force of my arm, she is. The fact that she’s standing in front of me, in the path of my fury, is enough for me to drop my arm. Saylor doesn’t let go of my hand, but her grip lessens.
“We’ll get through this.”
I want to ask her how, because I don’t see a way out. My reputation is tarnished, whether I committed the act or not. Everyone will remember that Travis Kidd was accused of rape, and my credibility with my teammates and the organization will be nil. It’s not going to matter what my performance is like next season, because this will always loom over my head and will be at the forefront of management’s mind when my contract comes up for renewal. No, it doesn’t matter what happens—I’m done, while the victim that I didn’t hurt gets to go on with her life.
I step forward, placing my body within inches of Saylor’s. She breathes in, her chest rising and almost brushing against mine. When she lets go of my hand, I keep it at my side while my other hand finds a comfortable resting spot on her hip. I expect her to move, to push me away, but she doesn’t. She gazes up at me, and her tongue gently grazes her lips.
In one swift motion, I pull her to me. Our bodies crash together as my lips press against hers. My heart tells me to go slow, to savor the moment, but my body is telling me to kiss her with reckless abandon, to show her how I feel. She whimpers and opens her mouth to me, giving me the access I so desperately need in order to kiss her the way I want, with urgency and determination. To show her that we belong together, despite everything that stands between us. Memories of the night we shared come rushing back, showing me how perfect and amazing we were together, taunting me, reminding me that I can’t have her, that she feels like I’m not worth the risk. But I am, and I want to show her that I’d be everything she needs in a man, and more.
Stepping forward until she’s flat against the wall, I bend slightly to lift her up, never breaking away from her sweet mouth. She pulls her skirt up over her hips and wraps her legs around my waist, leaving me centered perfectly to take her, to rekindle the desire that I know we both share.