Page 99 of Revenge Puck

Taking his hand in mine, I tell him, “Christian and I had a few fun months together. That’s it. I’m not still pining for him. If I was, don’t you think I would’ve said yes the first time he texted me, asking to come over?”

“Yeah, I guess so. And you know his offer of proposing is bullshit, right?”

“Absolutely,” I answer without needing to think about it. “You’re right about him. He’s selfish, arrogant, and only thinksabout himself. You two may be the same age, but he still has a lot of growing up to do. And I want…”

“What do you want?” Preston asks, stopping to face me on the sidewalk when I pause.

Looking up at his handsome face, I tell him, “I want to be with someone who makes me feel safe and happy, day and night, not just occasionally when it’s late and he’s lonely.”

“And I make you feel that way?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“I still worry that you’ll end up hurting me.”

“I won’t.”

“Only time will tell, right?” I say with a forced smile.

The one thing I’ve learned about Preston that never waivers is just how important his family, the family he works so hard to provide for, is to him. Nothing is more important.

Especially not me. I understand, even if it makes me a little sad. After all, the two of us just met and started out in a fake relationship.

I’m still expendable to him, even if he won’t admit it to himself.

So, if he ever had to choose between me or his sister and nephew, I know who he’ll pick every time.

It certainly won’t be me.

That’s something I have to understand and respect as part of our real relationship.

35

Preston

The Warhawks are one game away from winning the championship trophy. Unfortunately, that game has to be played in the Bobcats’ home arena and not our own.

We won the first two games in Greensboro, so I know we can do it again.

For some reason though, this game day feels different. It’s not just because I’m still reeling from the confrontation with Riley, followed by the argument with Elle, either.

There’s so much riding on tonight that you can practically see the nerves on every single player’s face. It’s in the way shots go just a little too wide during warm-ups, when they would’ve sailed into the goal yesterday.

The pressure is getting to us all to pull off the win today and clinch the championship.

If we don’t, we’ll be back on the road and in D.C. for game six the day after tomorrow.

I’m trying my best to get focused during warm-ups, to forget about everything but playing my best when Riley starts circling me like a vulture.

“Hey, Pres. How’s my girl doing? Shecomingtonight?”

I ignore the asshole, pretend like he doesn’t exist, just like I did in the last game.

“She can’t resist me,” he calls out. “You both know it. It’s only a matter of time before she’s back in my bed, begging me to take her harder, faster. You know how she gets. Oh, no. I guess not since she’s faking it all with you and you’ve never had her.”

Fuck.

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