Chapter 2
AN UNINVITED GUEST
REN
It always takes me longer to get my shit sorted and leave the arena than it took me to play the game.
If there’s one thing I always tell all these up-and-comers, it’s that it’s never too early to start taking care of your body.
I often wonder if I would have an easier time now if I had thought to do that twenty years ago.
Pretty sure the majority of my aches and pains can be blamed on teenager Ren treating his body like it was never going to get old or break down.
And we won’t even think about what twenty-five-year-old Ren was doing because lord knows that guy was a damn moron.
By the time I get back to my condo, it’s the middle of the night. I don’t bother turning on any of the overhead lights; the illumination of the moon through the large windows being enough for me to make it through the main living area and down the hall toward my bedroom.
I dump all my gear in the entryway, kick off my shoes, and slowly half-limp my way through the living room, briefly stopping off at the kitchen to grab a recovery water I left in the fridge.
Only a few years ago, I would have gone out after a game. Now, the idea of having to sit in a bar or a club surrounded by a bunch of people and loud noises makes me cringe.
I make my way down the hallway, stopping to look out the window, always appreciating the city skyline at night. I lean into the glass, pressing my forehead against the cold surface as my knees and ankles remind me exactly how old I am.
Sighing, I push myself away from the window, continuing the short journey to the master bedroom.
I walk through the doorway, sliding my hand up the wall to flip the light switch, where I then blink twice, stopping in my tracks as I shout, “What the fuck?” My hand goes to my chest as my heart attempts to leave my body, and I bend at the waist, bracing my hands on my knees as I shout, “Jesus fucking Christ, you scared the shit out of me.”
A quiet laugh breaks through my cursing, and I push myself upright, my hands moving to my hips as I glare across the room.
Her smile is incredibly smug, and she leans back in the large chair she’s sprawled in, humor glinting in her eyes. “You a little jumpy there?”
How the hell Cassidy Logan got into my apartment is beyond me, so I feel the need to ask, “How the hell did you get in here?”
“Pretty sure I own the building.”
“Your father owns the building.”
“Same fuckin’ thing.”
My hands move up until my arms are across my chest as I sputter, “What do you want?”
“You.”
My jaw falls open in complete shock for the second time tonight. Frankly, I’m so shocked by her statement that my body’s not even sure if it’s interested.
Which is entirely preposterous because, if nothing else, Cassidy Logan is hot.
I’ve definitely allowed myself a brief fantasy or three with her sassy mouth as the main attraction.
Or her strong thighs squeezing my head as she sits on my face.
Or her hazel green eyes darkened with need as she chokes on my—
Focus, Rafferty.
I turn and point to the door. “Get the hell out.”
Once again, she smirks. “No.”
“Are you for fucking real right now?”
The smirk falls from her face, and she shrugs, not making any move to stand. She’s quiet for a few long moments, staring at me intently until I squirm and ask, “Well, are you going to do something?”
With a deep sigh, she sits up, leaning forward so her forearms are braced on the tops of her thighs as she looks up at me. “I need your help.”
“There’s not a fucking chance in hell I’d ever help you.”
“I think you will, once you hear me out.”
“I don’t want to hear shit.”
“Well, that’s too damn bad. Because I’m not leaving until you at least listen to what I have to say.”
“Or what?” I ask incredulously. “Are you gonna threaten me? Attempt to come up with some harebrained scenario where you can turn yourself into a victim to use against me?”
“Whatever I have to do.”
“You’re un-fucking-believable,” I spit out angrily. “You’ve gone out of your way countless times to cause trouble for me, and then you show up here uninvited in the middle of the night and threaten me in the hopes that I will listen to you?”
Her close-lipped smile is a bit sheepish, but then she nods. “Pretty much.”
Well, I wasn’t expecting her to just agree with my description of the situation, but here we are. I rub my hand over my face, groaning in frustration, but then I meet her gaze head-on. “Fine. But we’re moving this conversation to the living room.”
I turn and exit the room without saying anything else.
I stride directly into the living room, turning on the lights as I enter, and I’m almost surprised when I stop beside the sofa and see that she’s actually followed me without comment.
I motion for her to sit, and she does, crossing her legs and resting her hands on her knee as she stares up at me. “Would you please sit down?”
“Why? You won’t be here long enough for me to bother getting comfortable.”
She rolls her eyes at me and huffs, “I don’t need you lording over me while I explain.”
The nerve of her to think she can break into my apartment and make demands of me. I grind my teeth, wanting nothing more than to grab her and bodily toss her out the door.
The other part of me wants to get my lawyer over here or even call a neighbor—any kind of witness I could call in a court of law to refute any outlandish claims she might make when I refuse her offer.
She continues to stare at me, obviously waiting for me to stop “lording” over her, so with another heavy sigh, I move to the far end of the sofa, where I fall onto it haphazardly and somewhat dramatically. “Is that better?”
She relaxes slightly and mutters, “Yes. Thank you.”
Her shoes hit the floor with a thud, then she sits with her feet beneath her as she turns to face me, one of her arms resting in her lap, the other braced along the top of the couch.
I turn my body slightly so she can’t accuse me of not paying attention, and then I wait. She stares at her legs, then the back of the sofa, and then a spot on the wall behind me, and finally, I say, “Just spit it out, Cassidy.”
She is so lost in her own thoughts that she jumps and then laughs nervously as her eyes connect with mine. I raise my brows at her, waving a hand in a motion indicating that she should get on with it.
“I’m gonna need you to marry me,” she rushes out, and I can only assume the look on my face is a mix of shock and horror because when I open my mouth to respond, she holds a hand up. “Let me finish.”
I snap my mouth shut, forcing myself to relax, even though every part of my body is on edge because there is no reasonable explanation for what she’s asking.
She stares at me, the look in her eyes rather haunted. “Just to be clear, I don’t like you at all. I’ve seen how you operate. I’ve witnessed firsthand how careless you are, and I believe you’re an irresponsible, borderline irredeemable asshole who treats women like cattle.”
I frown, sliding to the edge of my seat. “Well, this conversation is over.”
“Calm down, Ren. I’m doing a shit job explaining, but give me a minute, and I’ll get to it.”
“There can’t be one decent reason you would want to marry someone you have such a high opinion of.”
She sighs, her hands fisting in frustration as she mutters, “Okay, maybe the cattle comment was a bit too far. But you have to remember I’m used to going out of my way to antagonize you. It’s not something that just goes away overnight.”
“Well, for the record, I gave up any kind of playboy ways a long goddamn time ago. And also, any woman you feel I may have treated like ‘cattle’ was perfectly happy with the arrangement at the time.”
She rolls her eyes, her lips twisting, but then she nods. “Yeah, I know. If nothing else, it seems none of them have ever had a bad thing to say about you.”
“What exactly is it about me that offends you so much?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe just because you’re breathing.”
I laugh hollowly, once again sliding to the edge of the seat, but this time, I do stand and turn toward her. “Well, unless you plan on marrying me just so you can become a widow, this entire conversation seems pointless.”
Cassidy looks around the room, suddenly appearing like a caged animal, and then she jumps to her feet, closing the short distance between us so she’s standing directly in front of me.
“Regardless of your reputation or how I feel about you, I know if you make a deal, you’ll stick to it.
I won’t have to worry about you trying to cheat me. ”
“Surely, you can find a whole line of willing and highly acceptable men for the job.”
Her lip curls, her arms cross over her chest, almost defensively. “Believe me. None of those men give a shit about me. The last thing I want is to end up stuck with some smarmy douchebag Daddy would approve of.”
“Is that what this is about? Daddy’s approval?”
She frowns and then laughs bitterly. “If this was about Daddy’s approval, I wouldn’t be standing here in front of you, would I?”
I squint down at her and then nod because that is absolutely true.
I take a couple of steps away from her, needing to put a bit of distance between us, and then I turn back to face her.
“Okay, give me the important details of why you thought it would be a good idea to show up here and proposition me with this insanity.”
“Well, my dad’s lawyer approached me the other day to remind me of some fine print in my trust fund.”
My snort interrupts her explanation, and she gives me a dirty look.
I incline my head in the way of a shitty apology, and then, after a moment, she goes on, “I have to secure a husband before my twenty-fifth birthday. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard about it, but I genuinely believed all the previous mentions were a bad joke.
His lawyer has now assured me it’s not a joke, and I’m running out of time. ”
“What kind of archaic bullshit is that?”