Page 36 of Triple Power Play 3
“Because he got someone pregnant, obviously.”
She has reason to be bitter. Ethan was still married when he met Aurora. I don’t need the entire story, but I wish the fucker would’ve given me a heads-up.
Right or wrong, I don’t protect Aurora because it’s my job. I protect her because it kills me not to, and I have the mental scars to prove it.
“No, because you’re repulsive. You don’t even compare. Now take your shit to Ethan.”
The elevator slides open, and thankfully, it’s empty—the game must be in play. We step inside, and I position myself in front of Aurora, shielding her. She wraps her arms around me, her head resting on my back—another realization: her love language is physical touch, and she needs my comfort.
The doors shut. I turn to her and lift her chin, but her gaze remains downcast, fixed on the floor. She won’t look at me, and Ican tell by the faint quiver in her lips she’s struggling to suppress her tears. I’m struck with the powerful urge to hold her, let her fall apart in my arms, but I know she doesn’t want that right now. She’s trying to be strong.
It’s probably crossing a line, but I kiss her forehead. “Just breathe. We’ll be out of here soon.”
Her breath shudders, a ragged sigh fighting its way free. “I didn’t even get a chocolate-covered strawberry.” She attempts to joke through her tears, but in no time, her lip pouts, and her body shakes with sobs. Covering her face with her hands, she cries, “I hate her so much.”
I take hold of her wrists and lower my head until her gaze meets mine. “She doesn’t matter. These arrogant assholes do not matter. No one matters but you and the baby.” I wipe away her tears and smeared makeup with my thumbs. “I’ll get you some chocolate-covered strawberries. Now, the doors will open any minute. Chin up, princess, and straighten your crown.”
15
ETHAN
“I’m sorry, man!” Trent says for the millionth time since calling. “How was I supposed to know?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, a dull ache throbbing behind my eyes. “What the fuck did you think I meant by someone special?”
“Ah…Jackson O’Reilly’s wife, the swimsuit model. Who else?”
My pregnant girlfriend.Yes, Jackson O’Reilly’s wife. Yes, the swimsuit model. Yes, I should’ve told him, but I didn’t have the time or energy forthatconversation.
Struggling to maintain some semblance of privacy in the back of this motorcoach, I grind my molars, exacerbating the headache. “Why were you with my ex?”
“I rep a few players now that you’re no longer their coach.” The buzz of a crowd muffles, and he lowers his voice. “Jesus, why didn’t you tell me who you were dating? Or screwing? When did you get her pregnant? I need answers! I want to live vicariously through you.”
He chuckles, and I want to punch myself in the face. Those questions are precisely what I was hoping to avoid.
“Fuck off, Trent.” I end the call before I completely lose my temper.
The last thing I wanted was for my ex-wife to meet Aurora. I can’t imagine how vile she was to her. Actually, I can. I endured her abuse for six years.
“Where is she?” Jackson asks, his tone heavy with exasperation.
He’s sick of my shit, and I can’t say I blame him. We’re en route to the hotel, and he likely wouldn’t have sat with me if I hadn’t sounded heated on the phone. “In the room, napping.”
He doesn’t even spare me a glance. “You talked to Reece?”
“Yeah, he’s with her. He’s worried my ex will show up at the hotel.”
That captures his attention, and he finally peers over at me. “Will she?”
“Not putting anything past her. She can’t contact me since I’ve blocked her—like Aurora wanted.”
I’m sure she has a laundry list of accusations against me. She’d take me back to court if she could. She’s vindictive.
“If she comes to the hotel, I won’t be nice. I’m warning you now. I don’t give a flying fuck about your ex orsaving face.” He shakes his head in frustration. “Stop running and hiding and make a fucking decision.”
“Everything will be okay once we get to LA,” I tell him, more to convince myself. “Aurora’s embarrassed. I’ll?—”
“No,” he cuts me off, his jaw tight. “Do you hear yourself? You’re making this harder than it needs to be. Choose. In or out.”
