Page 54 of Ace My Heart

“But itdidworry me. Itdoesworry me,” I argued pitifully.

Joel sighed. “Of course it does. You’d have to be a sociopath for it not to. Maybe think of this as a chance to refocus the conversation; shine a light on the fact that it’s okay for women to enjoy sex, to be adventurous in bed, but it’s not okay for men to take advantage of that. You can turn it around to a discussion about consent, and the fact that Pete Levine didn’t get your consent to film what you did together.”

I felt the fight go out of me. Joel was talking too much sense, yet again. I’d been so caught up in the mortification of the whole debacle that I hadn’t even thought about the unfairness of Pete Levine walking away unscathed after taking advantage of me. Joel sensed the change in the tension in my body and released me.

“When would I have to do it?” I asked, turning back to my groceries.

“Not until we get back from the States. So, can I call him back and tell him you’ll do it?”

“Yes,” I sighed without looking at him.

“Great! Stink, you’re a good sport.”

“Why did they callyouanyway?” I asked.

“Well, actually they DM’d me on Instagram after they saw my posts from Dubai.”

I stiffened. I’d forgotten in all the drama in Dubai that Brad had mentioned keeping updated on what I was doing through Joel’s social media.

“But you only posted on-court action shots, didn’t you? Not thatexciting considering every sports media outlet would have been posting similar.”

Joel cleared his throat. “Well … I don’t think it was the content so much as the fact that they knew I was with you, so they figured I might be able to put you in touch with them. You’ve seen all my posts, right?”

I shook my head. “I’m still on my social media hiatus. The Internet doesn’t need more of Mel Black.”

Joel snorted. “I’d hazard a guess that ‘the Internet’ would beg to differ with you on that.”

I closed the fridge and turned to face him, finding him sitting in a chair at my table, looking for all the world like he lived here. I sunk into a chair as well. I reached behind me into the fridge and pulled out a couple of bottles of Platinum Blonde, my favourite beer. I passed one over to him.

“Have you heard anything more from the police?” I asked quietly, changing the subject. Joel shook his head, taking a swig from the beer.

“Nope. I called them this morning but there are still no leads whatsoever. Mel … these nightmares you keep having …”

I choked on a mouthful of beer. “Nope! We are not discussing this!” I spluttered.

“I just want to know how often they’re happening. Do you need to talk to someone about them?”

I downed the rest of my beer, leaning over and reaching into the fridge for another.

“I’ve talked toyouabout them – don’t make me regret that,” I warned.

Joel shook his head, sipping slowly from his own beer. “I just wonder whether maybe you should talk to a professional. You’re an athlete, Stink. You need quality sleep or your performance will suffer.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, this is my concerned trainer talking, is it?”

Joel sighed. “Don’t be like that, okay? I’m worried about you. I don’t want … fuck, I wish I was there before you!” He rubbed at his forehead.

I leaned forwards, finger hooked around the neck of my beer. “Joel, don’t try to pretend that you’re coping with this any better than I am. You being there first, it wouldn’t change what we saw.”

“I could have stoppedyoufrom coming in. I could have savedyouhaving to see.” Joel’s voice was agonised.

My heart lurched. “Jesus, Joel! Don’t you dare feel guilty about this! I wishyouhadn’t had to see it either! Fuck, I wishneitherof us had to see! I wish he wasn’t …”

My throat locked up. I pushed back from the table and turned to lean against the bench, gripping the edges with white knuckles.

His chair scraped and the warmth of his body was like the sun on my back. His hands were on my arms, holding me steady.

“Please, Stinky. Just … promise me … if things get too overwhelming for you that you’ll at least be honest with me about it, even if you don’t want to talk to anyone else.”