Triple Power Play (Obsessed Players Club #1)

25. Aurora

TWENTY-FIVE

AURORA

Perched on the edge of the infinity pool, I dip my toes into the sparkling water. The afternoon is as perfect as ever, with sunbeams dancing on the rippling surface and the melody of the waves whispering through the cool air.

It’s not sunny inside my head, however.

I’m overwhelmed. I woke up this morning with texts from Ethan, Jackson, and my agent—nothing from Emily. We fly out in three days. I don’t know if I’ll have an assistant or friend to accompany me.

My agent wants me to call her. I’m sure she knows I’m pregnant by now, given the videos circulating. I can’t continue to avoid her, avoid the heartache of losing my dream.

I let out a long, dramatic exhale. I thought about Ethan’s suggestion until my brain hurt. A relationship with hockey star Jackson O’Reilly would undoubtedly benefit my career. My mental health is yet to be determined.

Jax called last night, excited to talk. I didn’t mention Ethan’s plan. There’s no fake dating for Jackson. I have to accept the idea of us before I bring it to his attention. And he didn’t ask about my call with Ethan, content with talking about nothing, which was a pleasant distraction, because I can’t get Ethan’s conflicting words out of my head.

“ You’re young and beautiful. A committed relationship isn’t in the cards. ” Whatever. His choice. Not that I want anything romantic with him, but that stung.

Emerging from the water, I walk to the ledge and rest against the glass barrier. I inhale the salty air and gaze out at the ocean, finding peace in the rhythm of the waves colliding with the cliffs.

I understand the rationality behind Ethan’s plan. I’m okay with it, as long as we go at my pace and Jackson knows everything is over if he returns to drinking.

Fake or not, it’s over.

What distresses me the most is feeling as if I’m nothing more than an escort again, at least in Ethan’s eyes. He wants me to date a man for publicity, to save myself from negative gossip. It’s essentially the same as escorting, simply a different currency.

Maybe that’s all I’ll ever be to Ethan—a woman who benefits from dating high-profile men.

But this is Jackson, my first love. He’ll dive in headfirst, or I should say, heart first. When he wants something, nothing can stop him. This penthouse. The bodyguard. I’ll be spoiled, with little financial concerns.

Another positive is that we’re attracted to each other—I mean, Jackson is fucking hot, there’s no denying that. The giant red flag is his volatile behavior, and I won’t know if I’ve made a colossal mistake until it’s too late.

“Wow.”

Startled, I spin around.

Jackson’s gaze drags over me slowly, a crooked smile curving his lips. “I could get used to this view.”

I’m in a white bikini. He’s dressed in black ripped jeans, a black T-shirt, and his beloved unlaced black motorcycle boots. My dark hair is up in a messy bun while his sandy hair is flawlessly tousled. We couldn’t be any more opposite.

It’s also highly annoying he’s effortlessly attractive, even with the abrasion on his cheek and the bruising along his eyebrow—maybe more so.

“You’re early.” I can’t hide the excitement in my tone, and once again, everything in me wants to jump into his arms. “I was getting lonely here.”

A wide grin brightens his green eyes. “I was in a hurry to get home.”

He takes a tentative step forward, his gaze fixed on my slightly rounded stomach. He extends his hand as if to touch me but hesitates.

“You can touch.” I grab his wrist and place his palm on my baby bump.

His hand almost encompasses my entire belly.

“I think you’re a little bigger than last time I saw you.” His callused palm caresses my stomach. “Damn, that’s weird.”

“Sorry,” I mumble and step back, my heart heavy with disappointment.

He shakes his head, brow furrowed in a scowl and returns his hand. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. Not at all. When do I get to feel him move?”

A nervous giggle comes over me. “Not for a while—a month or more.”

Even this innocent touch fuels a forbidden longing. I try to tell myself it’s only loneliness. But then, he slides his hand to the small of my back and pulls me in for a hug, and all my problems scatter.

His musky cologne fills my senses, and my eyes squeeze shut as my head falls to his chest and my arms wrap around his waist.

This is it, right here. What I’ve been missing since the day he left.

My throat constricts, and tears prickle behind my eyelids.

He feels like home.

“I missed you so fucking much.” His tone mirrors my same torment.

His heart beats rapidly, resonating with mine.

Tilting my head back, I meet his glassy gaze. “It’s only been a few days.”

He clenches his jaw, furrowing the muscle. “You know what I mean.”

That husky voice sends chills down my spine, and my nipples harden.

“You’re not being very friendly.”

He leans in, his eyes fixated on my lips, the anticipation palpable. “What if I don’t want to be friends?”

Butterflies explode in my stomach, and my heart beats fiercely within my ribcage. “Apparently, we’re already dating.”

“Are we now?” He flashes that wolfish grin, and his hand clasps the back of my neck. “Does that mean I get to kiss you whenever I want?”

His mouth inches closer, and my mind is in disarray.

“This is reckless,” I whisper against his lips.

“This is inevitable,” he counters, his voice deep and raspy.

And before I know it, our lips are pressed together. Desire outweighs caution, and I can’t resist him.

The rough stubble on his jaw scratches my skin, and my fingers clutch his shirt.

It’s gentle and languid until his teeth graze my bottom lip. A surge of arousal hits me low in the belly, and I’m opening for him. Our tongues intertwine, and he devours me. His taste explodes in my mouth, sweet like candy, like red Jolly Ranchers.

“Fuck.” He presses his forehead to mine. “I want you. No, fuck that—I need you.”

“Jax—”

He cuts me off with another scorching kiss. His fingers move to fist my hair, his erection digs into my hip, and there’s no question where this is leading.

But before we can even begin to unravel this, a haughty voice I hoped never to hear again interrupts.

“Well, well, well…”

I jolt, and Jackson tenses. We release each other, and the tender moment we shared vanishes instantly.

Jackson’s father approaches, decorated in a disheveled police uniform, his shirt partially untucked and open at the collar, his face lax. He’s drunk.

You become an expert at identifying even the most minute signs of intoxication when your loved one has an addiction, and Kyle appears thoroughly sloshed.

His small, beady eyes lock on to mine, and the revulsion emanating from him is unmistakable. He’s here because of me, because of my pregnancy, and he doesn’t approve.

I reach for Jackson out of fear of his father and in hopes of holding tight to this new person he has become. Part of me expects him to brush me off and grow cold, as he has in the past when confronted with Kyle’s wrath.

Instead, he encircles me in his arms and holds me close. “How the fuck did you get in here?”

The anger in his voice vibrates in his chest, and I flinch at his harsh tone.

“The gentleman at the door was kind enough to let me in.” Kyle’s words slur and run together. “This is where you’ve been? Holed up with this whore?”

My eyes burn with tears. His cruel remarks are nothing new but still painful and humiliating.

I won’t stay here with Kyle, and I won’t be with Jackson, fake or not, if his father is part of his life. Been there, done that. With Kyle around, it’s only a matter of time before Jax relapses.

“I’m not doing this.” I break free of Jackson’s hold.

I face the doors into the penthouse, ready to escape, but Kyle steps in front of me, blocking my exit.

Jackson quickly returns me to his embrace, his muscular arms enveloping me. “What the fuck do you want?”

Kyle tilts his head, feigning concern. “Is it not okay to visit my son and his pregnant prostitute?”

Tears well in my eyes, and mortification stings my cheeks.

Jax points to the doors, his body shaking with rage. “Get the fuck out!”

Kyle reaches around me and shoves Jackson’s shoulder. “Boy, you don’t scare me. You think you’re a man now that you got some bitch pregnant? Good job, Aurora. You got your big payday.”

Jax doesn’t budge. He’s taller than Kyle by several inches and way more powerful. I hate violence, but for once, I wish Jackson would defend himself.

His father’s words and behavior are gut-wrenching, but on top of that, his stale cherry cigar smell turns my stomach. I tuck my face into Jackson’s shirt, trying to breathe through the wave of nausea. I need to leave before I throw up, but I’m paralyzed by anxiety and fear.

Jax cups my head, holding me tight to his chest, and rubs my back. “Shut the fuck up and get out, or I’ll have security remove you.”

Kyle laughs manically, wafting his rotten stench, and my stomach lurches.

“I’m going to be sick, Jax.” My head swims, and my words sound distant and sluggish.

“Aww, Jax . She’s going to be sick,” Kyle mocks.

Jackson dips his head. “Ricky stepped outside. Go with him. I’ll handle this.”

I separate from him, and as soon as we’re apart, Kyle’s gaze lowers to my baby bump, and his lip curls into a snide smirk.

Even though the ground beneath me whirls, I hug myself and put one foot in front of the other.

Behind Kyle, Ricky’s massive body charges toward us, and I focus on his fierce, dark-blue eyes. I take two steps before my vision blurs. Time slows to a halt. A sudden wave of heat washes over me, leaving me lightheaded, and my knees give way.

Black spots shroud my periphery.

Fingers circle my wrist, and at first, I think Ricky has reached out to steady me. But the grip tightens at the joint, and pain radiates through my forearm and hand. My body jolts sideways, and I cry out.

Chaos explodes around me, the sounds of a brawl assaulting my ears. My wrist is freed, and I stumble. My wobbly legs scramble to remain upright, but it’s useless. The ground rushes toward me, and my arms shoot out in vain.

I slam into the concrete, and everything fades away.