Page 48 of Filthy Player

“I mean, you’ve already done it, and frankly I need the best care for my dad. I can’t be around him as much as I need to and I don’t have the money to pay for it, but I had already decided upstairs I needed to do it. It kills me you’re paying for it, but if he’s okay with it, he’s still mentally there enough to make his own medical decisions.”

It seemed like a trick. “Yeah? I’m going to be honest, I expected more of a fight.”

With a heavy exhale, she asked, “Did you help my dad this morning?”

“I spent a lot of years helping my mom.” It wasn’t a direct answer, but it was enough of an explanation, she understood.

“And he was okay with it?”

“As much as he could be.” He’d actually called me a rich prick at first, accused me of just wanting to spend more time with his daughter. I’d said yes to both and he’d laughed.

She was silent for several moments, draining her second cup of coffee. “I told myself this morning when I was upstairs getting ready and I thought you’d left, that it was time I stopped underestimating how good of a guy you were.”

Now that’s the kind of news I wanted to hear. “Yeah?”

Another pause. She looked into her mug.

As she took her time, my back pulled tight and I walked closer. “Paige?”

Her cheeks puffed and she exhaled a harsh breath. Lifting her head, she scraped her teeth over her top lip. “I had this boyfriend.”

“Spencer.” I hadn’t forgotten about him. Crossing my arms, I waited for her to continue.

“We’d been dating for a couple years when my dad had his first stroke. When I decided to move home, he’d promised me we’d make a long distance relationship work.” She turned and refilled her coffee. Every second she delayed talking made my pulse ratchet up. When she had taken another sip, she continued. “Two weeks later, after I’d told him I couldn’t go back to Charlotte one weekend he broke up with me.”

“Paige—”

“He’s a jerk. I know that now.”

“He’s not a jerk. He’s a dick, and not worth your time.”

She laughed once, but it was cold and flat. “Like I said, I know that now.” She squeezed her eyes closed and when she opened them, sadness filled her hazel eyes. “He isn’t the only guy who’s not wanted anything to do with me once they realize I don’t have the time they think they’re entitled to.”

She’d laid a minefield, but it helped me understand where she was at, why it’d upset her so much that she was with me when her dad was hurt. Why she approached us with a wall between us.

The sound of bricks crumbling to the floor between us echoed in my ears.

“I’m not them, Paige. You forget I know what you’re going through. I don’t think less of you because you’re busy caring for someone you love. I admire the hell out of you for it.”

Tears swam in her eyes but she blinked them back, nodding rapidly. “That’s why I decided this morning that I was going to trust you.”

Jesus. She slayed me.

My hands went to her cheeks and I pressed my lips to hers. I poured everything I felt for and her confession into the kiss. When I pulled back, my chest burned.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice rough, thick and filled with need for her.

She licked her lips and opened her eyes. “I’m not happy you’re paying for my dad’s nurse. I always thought that help came with strings attached, but if there aren’t—”

“Oh, there are strings. It means you spend more time with me, and I get what I want from you.”

Her head tilted toward her shoulder. “And what do you want from me?”

Everything, popped into my mind and I barely forced it back. I slid my hand to her hip and brushed my lips against her ear.

She trembled, leaning into me while a puff of breath rushed from her lips. “Whatever you’ll give me, Paige. And trust me, I’ll be happy to take it.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

---