Page 26 of Fashionista's Playbook

Vin could sense it, knew where to poke to jerk it to the surface.

“It ain’t like that, she works for me.” I said through gritted teeth, mouth clenched so tight my jaw ached. Only my brother could piss me off that fast.

“Cooks for you, practically lives with you, doesanythingyou ask her to.” His eyes narrowed, turned mean. He’d never had that look before he went to prison.

The slice of guilt muted my emotion. “It’s her job, Vin.”

“It ain’t her job performance that has you following her around like a lost puppy.” Vin slapped the ball into my chest with enough force it knocked my breath out in a huff.

“What’s your fucking problem?” I chucked the ball out into the backyard to keep from beaning Vin in the head with it.

“She is. Everything was fine until you hired her.”

And then I could see the whole field, read his play clearly. He was deflecting. I hadn’t mentioned that he took my car—nor the scrapes in the paint—yet. And he was making this about Moriah before I had a chance. “You’re reading too much into it.”

“You think so? She just shows up, poor pitiful woman, and needs you to save her? Always the white knight, you’re gonna do it. Ain’t nothing in life that coincidental. You just can’t see the forest through the big tits and ass.”

And not for the first time, Vin pushed shit too far. Anger gurgled in my chest, hot and painful. Like millions of tiny daggers stabbing into my ribcage.

“You should go.”Before I knock your teeth out.

It was what I didn’t say that he read in my eyes. He’d accomplished his task, spun and stalked away mumbling curses in both languages.

Once I heard his car speed down my driveway I turned and swung my fist into the cart filled with basketballs. The cart shattered, balls bouncing everywhere, and pain radiated from my fist all the way to my shoulder.

The entire court was a mess, just like my life.

****

I wrapped an ice pack around my shoulder and another around my wrist. The benefit of playing a sport professionally was the amount of first aid shit I kept on hand. And the ability to know how to treat a list of injuries a hundred yards long.

At the door of the master bath, I looked up and down the isolated hallway connecting my bedroom to my office. My body was dragging, tired and aching, now. But if I tried to relax, lay down, I’d just replay the argument with Vin over and over again.

I made for my office to go over game tape. The only way to win was to invest myself in beating the other team. Preparing for the next game relaxed me. Which fended off the headache that was throbbing behind my eyes.

Vin’s bullshit always threw me off balance, which is why he pulled these stunts. When really, all he had to do was talk to me. A scratched fender could be fixed. I didn’t know why he felt he had to fight the world at every turn. Including me.

I flinched when the soft thud of footsteps hit the stairs outside the door. But it wasn’t Vin. He’d never come back so soon; he’d still be sulking. That meant…

My heart sped up. The rapid beating drowned out the thumping in my head.Moriah.I listened intently, a prickling anticipation building with each step she took until I no longer cared about my fight with Vin.

I shook my foot, flexed my hands restlessly, and adjusted the icepack on my shoulder more than once in the amount of time it took her to reach the top of the stairs.

“What are you doing in here?” Surprise lit her pretty face, until she gave me the once over. Then those baby blues darkened with concern.

A small line formed across her forehead. I’d never seen something as remarkably sexy.

Get your shit together, Madera.

“Hey, Moriah. It’s good to see you too.” I couldn’t help but tease her, because every time I did her cheeks turned an enticing shade of pink.

The color spread down her chest and vanished into the swell of cleavage. I looked the other way, before I had to adjust more than the ice. I paused the game tape and dropped the remote on the couch.

Feeling like a moron because I couldn’t stop staring at a pretty girl wasn’t something I was used to.

“Hello.” She pursed her lips and moved to her desk.

I had to turn to see her over the back of the couch, which I did, and ignored the twinge of discomfort in my shoulder. Pain didn’t matter when she was that damn sexy.

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