Page 6 of Snapping the Ice
Stopping, Lucas glanced behind me and leaned in, whispering, “Will you be okay?” His brows furrowed.
“Of course.” I attempted to force a smile, but failed. I couldn’t believe the scene Tate had caused. And now this gorgeous man was worried about me? It was sweet. I patted his forearm. “Thanks. You’ll have the photos shortly.”
With a nod and his jaw clenching, he strolled out the door.
I shut the door behind them, and with a ragged huff, faced Tate. I’d hear more shit from him now. My gut knotted.
“Ezra.” Tate stood at my desk with his hands on his hips.
“Yes?” I strolled to him, my pulse picking up speed. “What’s wrong?”Now. I wanted to addnowto the sentence, but it would only anger him more.
“You were looking at those guys. Especially the darker-haired one.” His gaze turned hard as he stood over me.
Shit, he’d noticed. “I had to photograph them, Tate. Of course I looked at them.” I flipped my hair off my shoulder. How could I get him to stop this nonsense?
Snatching my wrist, he squeezed. “Don’t be coy with me. Youlikedthat guy.” He twisted my arm. “You want to fuck him? Huh?”
Pain shot up my arm. “Fuck, no.” I wrenched free of his hold and rubbed my aching wrist. This was new. He’d never been physical with me. He’d threatened it, but fuck. My pulse thrummed in my ears. “I’ll need you to leave if you continue behaving this way.” Peeking into his dark eyes, I cowered. I had to stand my ground.
“No more hockey players, okay? They’re too…” He glanced toward the door. “You enjoy their bodies too much.” He choked out a laugh. “And they think they’re so fucking tough. That one guy was an asshole to me.”
I stepped back and cleared my throat. Thatguyhad been defendingme. But I couldn’t say that. “I have to, uh, finish the shoot.” It was a lot of money, and they’d already paid for half of it. “I-I told you?—”
“You told me these guys would be a bunch of jocks, and you don’t like jocks.” He edged closer to me, putting his face in mine. “Ezra, I don’t like you taking photos of half-naked men. I told you that.”
But that’s where the money was…“I know, but?—”
“But nothing.” He lifted my chin. “Look at me.”
I snuck my gaze to his and flinched. “I didn’t do anything?—”
“You fucking did!” With a snarl, his palm struck my cheek.
The force of the slap twisted my head. As stinging spread to my jaw and under my eye, my mouth dropped open. I cupped my cheek as heat swarmed my chest. “Tate, you need to go. Now.” He’d never hit me before. A slap was a hit, right? It wasn’t a punch, but it was the same, wasn’t it? Funny how my face hurt more than my heart right now. When had my feelings for him stopped?
“Ezra, shit, I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean it.” Slumping his shoulders, he stepped to me and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
I stiffened at his touch. If he was capable of this, what else could he do? Was this only the start? In a rasp, I said, “I need you to go.” I bit my lower lip. Would he listen?
“No, baby. I’m sorry, really.” He kissed my cheek and rubbed my back. “It’ll never happen again, okay?”
I had to think of something fast. “Okay, it’s okay. I’m busy, so you should go.” I pushed on his chest.
“Are you sure it’s okay? You forgive me?” He held me out in front of him by my shoulders, his gaze searching my face, his forehead wrinkling.
“Yes, it’s okay.” With a forced smile, I placed my palm on his cheek. This was the only way he’d leave me in peace. I knew the drill.
He swallowed hard. “Well, okay then. I’ll let you finish up here. Call me when you get home.” Sucking in a breath, he scanned the studio and ambled toward the door. “Love you.” He stopped, his hand on the knob.
“Love you, uh, too.” I clenched my fist over my heart. But did I and had I ever? Or was I only attracted to his love bombing when we first met?
“Okay then. Call me.” He up-nodded at me and left.
“Fuck.” I blew out a long breath and hurried to the makeupstations. Had his slap left a mark? Bending over, I checked myself in the mirror and pulled my hair back. My cheek was redder than usual, but no bruises were forming. I sighed. If I ended up with a bruise or a black eye, I’d need an excuse for tomorrow’s shoot.
“Awkward.” I fell into the chair. My inner dialogue sounded more and more like a battered wife. This wasn’t good. And slapping me was the final straw. I needed a way out. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Fuck, was it Tate again already? I should have locked the damn door.
After fishing the phone from my pocket, I looked at the screen and smiled. “Maddy.” I answered the call, pressing the phone to my ear. “Hey, sis. What’s up? How are the rug rats?” I wouldn’t mention a thing about Tate. She already worried about me enough.
