Page 50 of Hot Receiver

I haven’t seen him smile like that in eight years.

He usually looks at me like he wants to kill me or…yep, kill me.

Who the fuck is he with?

When Zak puts his hand on the guy’s shoulder, it’s like a knife slicing into my heart. I want to run to him, to tell him to forget who the fuck ever it is and choose me, but my feet are stuck to the floor, glued to it like it’s wet tar.

Zak leans in to whisper something in the guy’s ear. They both laugh, the sound making the eggs in my stomach roil.

It’s only as he pulls away that his eyes finally flicker in my direction.

For a second, we stare at each other like nobody else is watching.

His smile fades, his gaze darkening. The usual expression reserved for me.

Then, he turns and leads the guy down the hallway toward the owner’s box.

And away from me.

What the fuck would ever make me think he’d choose me now when I wasn’t ever strong enough to choosehim?

Chapter 22

Zak

Ihad to walk away.

When I looked into Matt’s eyes, when I saw them glow with a whole lot of emotions that mirror the ones in my soul, I knew I had to put as much distance between us as possible.

If I didn’t, I’d end up getting sucked back into his black hole.

This time, maybe, for good.

There was fire there. Heat. Lust. Need.

But I also saw the accusatory look in his eyes, the rejection, and the shock.

Complicated. We always were so fucking complicated.

But fuck it. I’m more concerned with self-preservation at this point.

For once, I’m going to let the storm rage without me in the eye of it.

I ignore the shiver that slaps my spine as I lead Ryan Blake toward the owner’s box. Matt’s eyes still burn bright, searing a hole into my flesh with every step I take. Every shredof self-control in my grasp goes toward keeping my gaze front and center even though every cell of my being wants to twist around and look at him one more time, to witness that I still affect him on some deep, dark level.

I push open the door, half-listening to Ryan as Jake Parsons approaches. He claps me on the back, and I manage a smile for him even though my heart feels as though it’s being skewered.

“What are you doing up here?” Jake asks with more than a hint of question in his tone.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I didn’t want to broadcast my plans to anyone, especially Jake and Marc. They’d turn the whole thing into some publicity circus, and it’s the last thing I want going into the game.

My eyes dart toward the field, tiny palpitations assaulting my heart.

I didn’t think I’d ever be in a locker room again.

Last time I was there…

No. Fuck, no. I’m not thinking about that.

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