Page 90 of Hard Hitter
“He texted,” she admitted. “But it’s ridiculous.”
“What did he say? Show me.”
“Why?” she demanded. “It’s just a smear campaign. He’s using you to hit at me. That’s not even you in the picture.”
Patrick leaned back against the wall and sighed. “Ari.” He looked over his right shoulder and then his left. “It’s me in the fucking picture.”
“You...” She tried to make sense of it. “Really? When? And what were you doing at Vince’s club?”
His expression flattened. “I was there just randomly with a bunch of team members. It was Massey’s birthday, I think. It doesn’t matter why.”
“ThePostthinks it does! God, I’m so sorry. This is awful. It’s all my fault.”
He stood up to his full height and lifted her chin toward his face. Those cool blue eyes looked both tired and intense at the same time. “There is nothing about this that’s your fault. That’s all I can tell you.”
“But...” Ofcourseit was. First, that photograph of their kiss. Vince had practically advertised his capacity for jealousy and vengeance. The only way this wasn’t her fault was if the drug buy was real.
Oh.
Oh, shit.
“Wait—seriously?” she hissed. “You went to a club to buy drugs?”
His eyes closed, as if he was in pain. He dropped his hand from her face and winced.
“Jesus, Patrick.” Her mind tilted with panic. “So when you punched Vince at my house, you already knew him. He was yourdealer.”
“We arenottalking about this...” he began through gritted teeth.
“Oh. My. God,” she spat, taking a step backward. “This whole time you were sticking close to me because you needed to know what Vince was up to.”
“NO!” he bellowed. “That is not what happened.”
“Wow,” she said, her throat constricting. “People told me that you never got close to anyone, and how unusual it was. Now I knowwhy.” She choked on the last word.
Patrick clenched his fists at his sides. He closed his eyes and forcibly banged his head back against the wall. “That’s all the faith you have in me,” he said to the ceiling. “At least now I know.” He shook his head and started to move down the hall, away from her.
“Thanks for lying to me. When I asked you to be my friend, that’s not what I had in mind.”
He halted in his tracks, and she held her breath, wondering if he would turn around.
But he didn’t. He just kept going, leaving her there, mouth open in shock, wondering what the hell had just happened.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Ari worked her way through four massage appointments, feeling absolutely numb.
The feeling was mutual, apparently. The men on her table seemed sad and subdued. A scandal was bad for everyone. And if O’Doul got thrown off the team, their chances at the play-offs suddenly looked grim.
At the first gap in her schedule, she decided to step outside. Maybe a walk around the neighborhood would steady her. When she grabbed her jacket, the coffeemaker in the corner mocked her. She and Patrick were never as close as she’d imagined they were. In fact, the entire scope of their relationship began to look dubious. The moment they’d started spending time together was the same moment Patrick punched Vince outside her house.
He’d chased her ex away, and then he’d brought her home and made her feel safe. And the whole time, he’d had entanglements with Vince, too.
Yet he had never said a word.
Walking down the sidewalk, she tilted her face up to the cloudy sky. “I am so done with liars in my life!” A mother pushing a stroller down the sidewalk in the opposite direction gave her the side eye on her way past.
Yay. She was actually frightening people, now.
