Dirty Player: A Rough Riders Novel (35 page)

I jumped in my seat as a male voice murmured in response, and was on my feet and moving toward the front of the building when I heard Melissa’s angry demand. 

“I don’t care. Get out.”

“What is going on?” I asked, turning the corner only to once again stumble on my feet.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Patrick said, turning toward me and smiling.

I blinked rapidly, unable to move.

“She’s not your sweetheart,” Melissa clipped harshly, baring her teeth like she wanted to rip him to shreds. “Go away.”

Patrick glanced at Melissa, a quick sneer twisting his lips before he ignored her and turned back to me. “I was hoping we could talk.”

That one look in his eyes he gave Melissa before quickly being able to erase it told me everything I needed to know.

“No, Patrick. I don’t know why you’re here, but I don’t want to talk to you. We broke up. Hell, I moved almost twenty hours away to get away from you. I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I think I made it clear I want nothing to do with you.”

“Yes,” he said, his voice dropping in a way I used to think was sexy, but now I realized was arrogance. “I remember the last time we spoke.”

“Then you know she doesn’t want you,” Melissa said, still glaring at him.

Man, I loved my bestie. Now wasn’t the time for her to defend me. She and Patrick had always hated each other. “Melissa, please…give us a moment.”

“But—”

“No buts,” I said. “Please. This will take two minutes.”

She huffed, and I waited until she’d gone to the back before I turned and faced Patrick. He spoke before I could.

“I miss you, sweetheart. I know, I know I messed up, and I’m so sorry. But I love you. I still love you. Please, let’s go somewhere, let’s just go somewhere and talk.”

I shook my head, crossing my arms around my waist.

They were the right words, coming from the wrong damn man and for the wrong damn reasons.

I knew it.

Patrick was handsome. He was attractive in the pretty-boy way, and he took care of himself. Dressed in a long-sleeved plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and wearing gray linen shorts, he looked everything like the perfect, kind gentleman he’d always portrayed himself to be. I had been drawn in by his looks and his body and the security he’d offered me. His well-groomed ginger hair and light green eyes helped. He was just
pretty.

I couldn’t summon up a single emotion for him. His eyes were hard as steel, his voice lacked sincerity.

“You’re here because you found out another man has me and you’re pissed I don’t want you. That’s all this is, Patrick.”

“Powell?” he asked, almost choking on the word. “He’s no good for you. Come on, he’s a rebound for you. Someone who wants to fuck you until he’s tired of you. You know football players, you’ve always said the same thing about them, and don’t think for a second I haven’t looked into his reputation. He’s a player. He fucks women, doesn’t go back for more, and leaves a trail of pussy who have spread their legs for him in every city he travels. You’re nothing but a meaningless fuck to him. But to me, you’re everything.”

My heart pounded in my ribs. My cheeks heated. There was no way for Patrick to know the full extent of the pain he’d just lanced straight through my already broken heart.

I shook my head back and forth rapidly, trying to shake away the pain he was dishing out. “Patrick,” I said and took a step back. My chin wobbled. Fuck. I couldn’t cry in front of him. I wouldn’t.

“Shannon,” he said and closed the space between us in three quick strides. His hand reached for my forearm and I gasped from the surprise. His other hand pressed to my cheek. “Let me show you how sorry I am. It’s killing me. I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But it won’t happen again.”

“You don’t want me,” I said as I flinched again at his sudden hold on me. “You’re mad you can’t have me. We both know it, Patrick. I’m never coming back to Des Moines. I’m staying here.”

“With Powell?” he asked, his green eyes beginning to glint with jealousy. Damn it. I knew it. “He’s no good for you.”

“That may be,” a masculine,
very
familiar voice said. 

I gasped and pulled back only to see him…Oliver…standing in my doorway. I’d been so focused on Patrick I hadn’t heard the bell chime at the door. 

“But if you don’t want my fist in your face, you’re going to get your hands off my girlfriend.”

Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT

OLIVER

The asshole’s eyes narrowed on me.

Shannon’s widened in surprise.

“You’re still touching her,” I said, stepping closer.

Red blurred the edges of my vision. Ever since the day before, I’d been trying to figure out what to say to Shannon to get her to believe nothing had happened with Bethany, to apologize for being such a fucking dick at the hospital. All of it sounded like bullshit. There was no way I could go to her without being able to explain everything in a way that made sense—that would make her forgive me, like I needed her to…desperately.

On top of all of it, I’d driven my parents back to Georgia the day before, turned around, and driven home. I hadn’t slept in almost forty-eight hours, but when I got a text from Bethany telling me she’d gone to explain to Shannon, I had come as soon as I could.

I’d almost wanted to strangle the little shit for not minding her own business.

“What are you doing here?” Shannon asked, wide-eyed as Patrick finally let her go when I got close enough to punch him. Screw my catching hand. I’d love to jam my fist into his face. That she thought I wasn’t any better than him, thinking that I could have cheated on her—
her
, of all people—made me want to punch my own face, too.

I glared at Patrick and reached out, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her to my side. She stiffened immediately, but fuck him. He wasn’t touching her again. If she didn’t forgive me, that was her choice and my fault, but there was no way he was leaving there thinking he had a chance of putting his hands on her again.

“I thought we had dinner plans,” I whispered, brushing my lips against her temple.

Patrick’s face flushed as I kept my eyes glued to him while I kissed her. 

Shannon flinched again, but I held her tighter. Fuck, there was nowhere else I wanted her to be. Ever.

“You should go,” I said, glaring at Patrick. “You’ve lost her, and you won’t have her again. Leave before you make an ass of yourself.”

“He already did,” Shannon said. Her gaze had stayed fixed on him while I held her. “Go, Patrick.”

“He’ll throw you away,” Patrick said, his hands in fists like he wanted to rip her away from me.

Like fuck that would happen. Now that I had her in my arms, I wasn’t letting her go. I’d stay glued to her side until she forgave me. 

“Never. You had something good and treated her like shit the entire time because you thought she had to work to be as good as you. I’ll never fucking throw her away like you did.”

It was a vow. I meant every word. As soon as I spoke them, Shannon stiffened before relaxing next to me.

God, I hoped she believed me.

“We’ll talk later,” Patrick said, deepening his voice and looking at her.

I pushed her behind me until I was in front of her. Fuck that.

“You don’t get it,” I said, unable to stop myself from practically growling at the obnoxious dickhead. “She’s mine, and she’s not going back to you.”

“I can handle this, Oliver.”

“You can,” I said and turned to look at her, “but you won’t. You’ve dealt with enough shit lately and you’re not taking this on.”

A flutter of something softened her eyes, but I turned back to Patrick before I could read it.

“Go. And honest to God, I hear you’ve contacted her again and you’ll regret it.”

“You’re threatening me?” he said, pulling back. “Wonder what the media will say about that.”

“If you knew anything about me, you’d know I don’t give a shit what anyone says about me. Are you going to go, or do I need to help you out the door?”

“God, Patrick. Go.” Shannon’s annoyance rang thick and clear. “I mean, my God. You had me and treated me like shit. You took advantage of me, you killed any love I had for you long before you screwed Priscilla. Can’t you just do one decent freaking thing in your life and leave me alone?”

“I love you.”

She glared at him and then walked next to me. She was stiff and angry, and I saw it in her eyes, but I still fucking grinned when she slid her arms around my waist. “You don’t know what love is. If you did, you would have cherished me when you had me, not hung me out to dry and expected me to stay with you. You’re selfish and egotistical and you’re pissed you lost a toy. Now go, or Oliver will help you.”

He ground his teeth together before snarling at me. When he looked back at Shannon, his green eyes turned to ice. “You aren’t worth it anyway.”

A frustrated sound left her lips and her fingers dug into my waist. He left, the door slamming shut behind him, and as soon as he’d disappeared past the windows, she let me go and stepped away.

I reached for her, but she held up her hands, looking up at me with tears in her eyes.

Damn it. I’d done that. Patrick played a part, I was sure of it, but most of those tears were for me.

“Don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I want you to go, too.”

I scowled at her. “No.”

“God, Oliver.” She paused and pressed her hands to her cheeks. “This is too much today. Too much this week. Please, I don’t know why you’re here or why you did all that, but you have to leave. I can’t do this right now.”

Tears dripped down her cheeks. I was frozen helpless—unable to reach for her, unable to soothe her.

“Everything I just said to him is true.”

“And yet you treated me the same.”

Fuck. It was true. Mostly. “I know, and I’m here to apologize. To beg your forgiveness.”

She took another step back. I was losing her in front of my eyes. Pain sliced my chest as more tears fell. 

“Please, Shannon. Let me hold you. I’m so sorry for the hospital, for yesterday, for not chasing after you. I was a dick, and I know it. I didn’t mean it. I was angry and terrified. It was my
dad,
Shannon—the guy who taught me everything, and I was thinking the worst.” Emotion clogged my throat and I pulled in a breath. “I was fucking terrified and angry I wasn’t there for him. Was pissed he hadn’t listened to me and stayed home. So fucking pissed that they went to that game when he wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t you—honest to God, it wasn’t you.”

“This was a mistake,” she said, her chin wobbling. God, I hated that I’d done this to her. “We…it was sex…and then, we just got swept away in all of it. But we don’t work…”

“We do.” Damn it like hell we didn’t. We worked better than anyone I knew. “Give me this chance. I didn’t fuck Bethany. I didn’t touch her, except when she helped me to my room. But I swear to God. I knew I had hurt you. I had so much in my head, I just…didn’t handle it right. I know that.”

“I know you didn’t do anything with her. I believed her.”

Not me. Her words made her point, punching me in the chest. “But not me. You wouldn’t have believed me.”

Shit.

Fuck.

“Listen to me,” I said, reaching for her again as she stepped back. I took her hands in mine and held them, despite the urge to pull her to my chest, to wrap my arms around her so she couldn’t get away. “Fuck, I’m so sorry for hurting you. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have said anything at the hospital. I should have hugged you and let you help me. I should have let you be there for me, but besides my parents I’m just so fucking used to not having someone in my corner—not really, not genuinely. I didn’t think, and I hate that I hurt you. Yesterday I had to get them home, and I was hungover and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should have come after you. I should have dropped to my knees and begged your forgiveness. I’ll do it now, if you want.” I stopped and tried for a grin that failed.

“You hurt me,” she whispered. “Patrick always did and I always gave in.”

“I’m not him.” She had to know that, at least. “I’m not him. You know that. I’ve shown you I’m not that guy, but it doesn’t mean I’m perfect, either. We’ll hurt each other. Frequently. That’s the ugly truth of life, but it doesn’t mean we stop trying. It doesn’t mean we can’t use it to make us stronger instead of ripping us apart. Please. Give me a chance to make this better.”

She choked on a cry, and I stopped resisting. I pulled her to me until her head hit my chest and my hands wrapped around her lower back.

“God, I’m so sorry. I love you, Shannon, and I hate that I hurt you. It fucking kills me. Forgive me. At least give me the chance to earn it.”

I held her while she cried and sniffed.

I held her until she collapsed her weight into me.

I held her until a shiver rolled through her and she finally…fucking
finally
…wrapped her arms around me and held me back.