Page 9 of Resilient Love

It’swonderfulto know that despite my little pep talk about responsibility, I’m still finding myself watching over her. And after she’d finished her third drink, my brain glitched and my legs took over, dragging me toward her the moment the bartender personally came to ask her if she wanted something else.

“Would you like another round?” he asks her, his voice husky.

“No, thanks, I’ve had enough,” she tells him, putting a hand up to emphasise her words. “Could I get a water please?” The buzzing in my skull starts to settle. At least sheknowsshe’s being irresponsible. And so am I for being here at all.

Her eyes flick up to meet mine as he heads back to the bar, unfazed by her lack of interest in him.

Fire blazes in her baby blues. “What do you want?” she asks with a groan, straightening her spine.Well, hello to you too, princess.

I slide into the seat beside her, but she stays rooted in place, refusing to budge. So, I nudge her over a foot with my thigh tomake room for myself. AsMamíwould say, “No one is going to make space for you in this world; you need to do it yourself.” Though I’m not sure a seat in a booth beside a woman over a decade younger than me is what she’d meant.

Elise’s eyes narrow, shooting daggers straight through me. Something unrecognisable fizzles inside me at her attitude, and I push it back down, unwilling to entertain the feeling.

“Don’t you think this is a tad inappropriate? You know,” she says, sweeping her long, blue-black hair over her shoulder, “given how our previous coach was dismissed?” She’s taunting me, and far be it for me not to play ball.

“I’m having a conversation with you, or trying to anyway,” I grumble. “Not shoving my dick down your throat, Elise.”

Her eyes widen, and a sly smile spreads across her plump pink lips. This woman is pure trouble. She shifts to face me, and the outside of her thigh slides against mine; the subtle movement has my body acutely aware of every inch of hers. “I think we could make that dream a reality,” she purrs, leaning further into my personal space. Her breath tickles my ear as she whispers, “Coach.”

I grab her wrist, holding the hand that she’s just placed on my thigh from sliding up, feeling how affected I am by her. Ihatethat I’m so attracted to her. I haven’t slept with anyone in a long while, mostly because everyone I’ve been with either wants more than I have to offer, or they don’t like it as rough as I do. I’m not a man who’s capable of “making love”, and I’ve never claimed to be. Sex is a physical release, not a way to grow closer to my partner, and after several rounds of trial and error with both men and women, sometimes both at the same time, I’m resigned to the idea that I probably won’t find anyone who matches my needs without wanting a switch or looking for an emotional attachment that I’ll never be able to offer.

This leather-clad tyrant seated beside me has me thinking she might just be the exception to that rule, and I should nevereverfind out if that’s true.

“Quit fooling around, Elise,” I grunt out, dropping her hand into her lap. My gaze sweeps over the table for anything interesting I can use to keep my mind occupied, landing on her mobile sitting face up with a message to herfather.

Her hand strikes at the same time my does, snatching the phone a split second before I can, but I’m not afraid to use my sheer size to my advantage. I’ve never claimed to be a gentleman.

“Give me the phone, Elise,” I say, holding her fist in mine, our heated gazes just inches apart.

“It’smyphone, Rafael. Stop acting like a brute,” she hisses. A heady combination of her naturally sweet aroma and the vodka she’s consumed has my mind whirling.

“I sawmyname on your screen. I should be allowed to know what you’re saying about me,” I grit out, acting like an absolute ogre with no manners in sight.

Her eyes flash with something, an icy look crossing her face when I tug harder. She lets go at the same moment, sending me sideways with her mobile clutched in my hand. I huff out a breath, my nostrils flaring with annoyance as I straighten in my seat, my eyes catching on Elise’s lips as the corners of her mouth twitch with amusement.

“What are you so bent out of shape about? Yousaidyou wanted my phone.” She shrugs. “Now you have it.” Her words act as a necessary reminder that I should be looking at her messages and ensuring she hasn’t said anything that’ll have me kicked off my own team.

I peer down at the message thread between her and her dad, my brows shooting up at what I find. I hate that I’m makingmyself so easy for her to read, but the contents of these texts arenotwhat I’d imagined.

In our tussle, the message thread has moved up much earlier in their conversation than it should have, and I intend to read every word.

Papa Chéri

Are you studying for your exam?

Not quite.

Papa Chéri

And why is that?

Because I’m 21 and VERY busy making mistakes I can learn from. Obviously.

Papa Chéri

As long as you’re being safe, that’s all that matters.

Oh, is that so? Last I checked I had a new babysitter.

---