“Yeah? Then why were you?” She turned, her tone mocking. “Sleep with the wrong woman? Sorry. Women.”
He felt the tendons in his jaw ping as he clamped his teeth together. That had totally been offside. He hadn’t even been on a date—of any kind—in months.
And as for why he’d been traded? He still had no clue. None. He’d thought he’d been doing great, a rising star, and then suddenly here he was on the lowest ranking team, looking at the possible end of the only life he knew.
“Maybe…” she stalked closer, eyes narrowed “…you got traded because of your ego and rotten attitude and inability to follow rules.” She gave his chest a sharp tap.
He placed a hand over the spot where she’d made contact. “No need to be mean about it.”
“I learned from the best—you.”
He grabbed her hand, keeping her near while he considered his next words. His long-overdue apology.
Instead, like a bad habit, he dropped his voice and said, low and sexy, “And yet you haven’t learned the good stuff, such as breaking the rules, letting loose and having a little fun.”
Mullens shot her a playful smile. He knew she could be fun. He’d caught her in rare moments—usually laughing with another player (which ended abruptly as soon as he appeared)—when her face was awash with joy, her spirit so big it filled the room.
She stared at him, her lips moving slightly as though she was choosing which comeback to lob his way.
He cupped her hand in both of his, raising it between them. “Why do you hate me, Tina?”
“How much time do you have?”
He chuckled.
She narrowed her eyes. “Is this all some big joke to you?”
He shrugged.
“Skating around, pulling in millions for knocking into other millionaires? I guess, really…how is that not a joke?” She leaned in, her tone soft, her lips shiny from her gloss. She’d done something different with her eye shadow, and he found himself caught in her beautiful depths. “Some of us work really hard to make you and the team look good, and you blow us off like entitled, elitist jerks. And for us mere humans, that hurts.”
When her eyes welled up, his heart sank.
“Please don’t quit.” he told her.
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“We need you.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that, because I don’t owe you anything.” She pulled her hand free and walked to the door.
Mullens sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, doubting himself.
She was going to make him say it.
But what was “it,” exactly?
That he actually followed her plan when nobody was looking? That he didn’t know why he’d been traded, but worried that her comment about ego was accurate? That he was secretly panicked that he might be stuck on this losing expansion team for the rest of his now-fizzling career?
He’d never admit to that. Never crack the façade of his carefully cultivated image.
He was a confident man in charge of his own damn castle.
But she was well beyond allowing him that thin edge of forgiveness he thrived upon. That small caving in that he could leverage into full-blown amnesia where his faults were concerned. In other words, there was no BS-ing this woman, even though he’d pulled the wool over her eyes with how he fueled his body.
He watched her tug open the door and step through, a sensuous compilation of curves and temptation.
He had to say something.