Page 3 of False Start
“Shhh, keep your voice down!” I whisper.
His face grows serious as he leans down in my personal space. “Zhanna, you have two choices. You can walk to my car of your own volition, or I’m going to pick you up, carry you out there, and put you in the damn thing.”
“I’m wearing a skirt and heels,” I point out.
“Five.”
“Let’s just stay out of each other’s hair, okay?”
“Four.”
“No more sleeping together,” I tell him.
“Three.”
“Stop it, Bryant and listen to reason!”
“Two.”
Assistant Coach Jed Jones heads in our direction again and frowns when he sees Bryant in my face. “You okay, Zhanna?”
My ex doesn’t look away from me as he tells him through gritted teeth, “She’s fine. Just stubborn as hell.”
Jed chuckles. “That’s why we call them ‘the Hell Sisters’.”
“One and a half,” Bryant continues.
I start walking back to my office.
“One,” he says, turns me around, and scoops me up before throwing me over his shoulder.
I kick and yell like a banshee, attracting all sorts of attention, and don’t you know, not one person comes to help. They just stare in awe at Bryant freaking Hudson being in their building. Since I just found out, I doubt many people know he’s already traded to our team. Meanwhile, I’m hanging upside down with all the blood rushing to my head. I actually pray a little that he won’t drop me on the hard ground.
Once we’re outside, he stops at his black M5, and opens the passenger door. He slings me over his shoulder, sets my feet to rights, and keeps me from falling over from being dizzy. “You need to go back to California.”
“I need you to listen to me, and listen to me good, Zhanna,” he says. “I’m coming for you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me until you’re wearing my ring, sleeping in my bed, and using my last name again. Wrap your mind around that, because I fucked up the first time with you. There won’t be a second.”
“In other words, you’re going to make my life a living hell until you finally realize I want nothing to do with you.”
He grins at me. “Nothing?”
Gah. Okay. I want his body, and his skills in the bedroom. “You know what I mean.” I slide into the car, and he follows moments later.
“Oh, I know what you mean. I’m taking that to mean you want to keep our little arrangement where we fuck each other senseless every time we’re near one another.”
He makes me sound like I use him, which I totally do, but there’s an underlying sadness in his eyes that he thinks he’s hiding from me. I choose to ignore it. “Sure. We can keep that arrangement. It’s working for me, and that’s what’s important—me and what I want for once. Don’t you think?”
“If that’s what you want,” he says, resigned to the fact that he’s probably not getting much more out of this conversation.
“That’s what I want. As a matter of fact, why don’t we go to the nearest hotel and get a round in before lunch?” I ask.
He shakes his head at me. “No, I’m not running around in hotels with you anymore. You’re my fucking wife! We both have residences that will suffice.” He pauses, looks out the front glass, and releases a sigh. “Your place or mine?”
I let the wife comment go. “Well, geez! Don’t sound so freaking excited about it!”
Bryant turns the ignition over and revs the engine before he backs out of his parking space and drives away. “We’re going to lunch,” he says five minutes later. “We’re going somewhere nice and expensive and quietly making up rules to make you feel better about this situation. We’re going to spend time together outside of the bedroom at my place.”
That gets my attention. “Did you already buy a place?”
