Page 68 of Dirty Play

“I’ll leave you to your work, Ms. Moody.” He dips his head. “But don’t think I won’t be back. We still have that interview to discuss,” he adds with a brow raise.

“You’re doing it?” My own brows shoot up to my hairline as I slide off the desk.

He’s already in front of the door, unlocking it with a flick of his wrist before looking back and giving me a wink.

And just like that, he’s out the door, leaving me alone in my office, a complete mess, hair all over the place, heart pounding, and the unmistakable ache of wanting him still lingering in my body.

Chapter eighteen

~ROWAN~

The last time I did this interview, I almost told the guy to go fuck himself.

This time, I lean back in my chair, stretch my legs out, and smile at the journalist like we’re old friends.

“Rowan, thank you for sitting down with us again,” the guy—Michael something—says, clearly wary. He probably thinks I’m gonna bite his head off this time.

I glance at Livia, standing off to the side with her arms crossed over her green dress, watching me like a hawk. She doesn’t trust me to behave.

Fair.

“Pleasure’s mine, Michael.” I tilt my head and give him an easy grin.

Livia takes a deep breath, bracing herself for the shitshow she’s expecting. Well, she’s not getting one today.

Michael hesitates, then clears his throat, flipping through his notes.

“Right. So, last time we spoke, things got a little…heated.”

“And you’re still breathing. Looks like your luck’s turning around.” I flash him a grin and lean forward to tap his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Michael exhales a laugh, loosening up. “Let’s keep that luck going, yeah?”

The interview starts with the usual mundane questions and predictable mundane answers. Livia shifts her weight, still watching me and waiting for me to snap.

I won’t.

Not today.

Because the only reason I’m even doing this is because of her. I don’t want to fuck this up for her any more than I already have.

“Alright.” Michael relaxes a little after the first few questions, tapping his pen against his notepad. “Let’s talk about the team. How’s the upcoming season shaping up for you guys?”

“We’ve got a strong lineup.” I shrug, crossing an ankle over my knee. “Our guys are putting in the work. You’ll see it on the ice, I promise.”

“Do you think you have a shot at the cup this year?” he asks, looking up at me from behind his glasses.

“We always have a shot.” I arch a brow. “It won’t be our first time earning it.”

“Confident.” He chuckles.

“I’m not in the habit of losing, Michael.” I shrug with an easygoing smile.

From the corner of my eye, I see Livia exhale sharply, shaking her head, but there’s a small smile playing on her lips.

“So we’ve seen.” Michael flips to another page in his notes. “You’ve had a bit of a reputation in the past for being…let’s say, aggressive. Have you changed, or is that something that contributes to your winning streak?”

My gaze flicks to Livia, who stiffens slightly. She knows this is a loaded question.

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