Chapter 9
Sam
I FOLLOW THE absolute coward into his enormous house, my entire body shaking with the effort of holding in the anger that courses through me.
All the shock and disbelief have bled out, leaving only a crystalized, icy fury in its place.
He leads me to the kitchen, which isn’t the best place in my mind, but I’m too furious to care.
I launch. “Want to tell me how the hell you’re here, Matthew? ”
He turns to me, a look of utter shame on his stupidly handsome face. “I need to apologize. I’m so sorry, Sam.”
I dig my fingernails so hard into my palms they nearly break the skin. I want to throttle him. “You’re sorry? You’re sorry? You make me break the most important rule I have, but you’re sorry? Do you have any idea –”
“I messed up,” he interrupts, holding his palms up in surrender. With a deep sigh, he meets my gaze. “I know how badly I messed up. I’ve been trying to fix it, I promise.”
A sarcastic laugh bursts out of me. “No. This isn’t something you get to apologize for and think I’m going to forgive you.
Absolutely not. I can’t even –” I stop, horrified that I almost let it slip that I can’t remember that night.
Seeing him has definitely made me remember a few more things, and none of them make me feel any better.
“What’ll it be, Sunshine? Heads or tails? ”
Yeah. Fuck this guy.
“I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get this annulled. But so far, I’m coming up empty.”
I breathe, staring at him. Wondering what else I’m going to remember. Something about a coin? Was – was that memory of a coin flip what really started it all? I think it was.
My blood chills with the realization. Oh, God. We got married by chance. Pure chance. Fifteen flips of a coin and they all ended on heads. How? In what world does that even happen?
“So, you’re a physical therapist for the team?” he asks, shifting gears in the silence.
I growl as my eyes snap back to him. “You lied to me.” My voice shakes, but I press on. “You lied and let me marry you, and then you left. I woke up and you were gone. Gone! Without a trace. All I had was a fucking ring on my finger, and you didn’t even have the courtesy to tell me your real name.”
“That is my real name,” he insists. “My first name. What I grew up being called. I never use Colin when I travel.”
My head jerks back. “Why, because you’re so famous?” I ask, my voice dripping with disdain. “Give me a break. You married me and left.”
“You’re right. And I carry that guilt with me every day.”
The urge to poke him in the chest is so strong that I almost do it. “Do you think that makes it better? That feeling guilty about it somehow absolves you?”
“No!” He almost shouts the word, startling us both. Taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhales slowly. “Look,” he says, meeting my eyes, “we have to figure this out, seeing as how we apparently work together.”
I glare at him. Apparently? Apparently? “Yes, Colin, we will be working together. There’s no ‘apparently’ about it.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Are you?” I shoot back. “Seems you’re the one freaking out about it.”
“I’m not the one screaming,” he hisses.
Folding my arms across my chest, I take a long look at him.
He’s so pretty it pisses me off: tan skin that I now know is from years of being on the pitch, a square jaw and full lips that his beard can’t hide, hair that’s just this side of too long, waving in brown tendrils and falling onto his forehead in a way that probably lured me right to him that night, and those eyes. Those fucking eyes.
I fell for a damn rugger. Literal decades of holding those fuckers at bay, and then I go and marry one.
I stretch my neck side to side, willing myself to calm down. “I’m not screaming. This is the farthest thing from screaming. Because when I do scream, Colin? Trust me – you’ll know.”
His eyes heat, and I swear my insides turn to goo. I shake my head to clear the ridiculous thoughts swirling in my mind and narrow my gaze. “Are you insinuating that I’m being too emotional about this?”
“No –”
“Because if you’re saying that I can’t handle my emotions –”
“Christ, woman!” he exhales. “Will you just – just fucking wait a minute. Give me one damn moment to catch my breath.”
“Why?” I step closer to him. “So you can come up with a pitiful excuse for why you left me? Polish off that turd and present it to me like it’s a truffle?
I’ve got news for you, man-child: It. Won’t.
Work.” I poke his chest with those last three words, the remaining bits of my self-control shredding right along with my sanity.
His chest is rock-hard.
And that makes me even angrier. I still don’t remember enough.
Through this entire conversation, my brain has been working double-time trying to reboot the system, using the data in front of me, but it’s not happening.
Pieces are locking in, but I can’t put it in order and I’m still blank on most of it. Did we get married by Elvis?
Bloody hell.
Back to the prick in front of me. “No. I won’t give you a minute. You lost the right to ask for anything from me the second you decided it was better to leave me than to face this shitstorm we created together!” My voice rises, and it’s definitely loud enough for someone to hear it.
His eyes widen to comically epic proportions as he waves frantically for me to keep my voice down. “You’re right! You’re absolutely right. Now, will you please,” he glances around furtively, his stupid hair flopping onto his forehead, “let us talk about this later?”
“Happy to,” I deadpan. “Oh, but wait, I don’t have your number. So weird.”
I pivot to leave, but he grabs my arm. What is it with people thinking they can just touch me today? I am not that kind of person. I glare at him, then drag my gaze to where his hand lies. “Remove your hand from my body, Colin, or it will be the last time it’s attached to you.”
His fingers splay as his hand rockets off my forearm. “Sorry,” he murmurs.
I have to admit, it’s fun making him squirm.
I don’t hate it. I hate the situation I’m in, but this part right here?
The one where he’s legitimately afraid I’m going to do something deadly to him because he doesn’t know me, and believes it’s entirely possible I might possess the skills needed to separate his hand from the rest of him? This part is absolute perfection.
“We’ll talk when I’m ready,” I announce. “And not a moment before.”
His eyes flash as he crosses his arms. “Understood.”
I whirl away, only to hear him speak once more.
“Sam? Are you going to say anything? To your brother?”
I sigh as I turn back to face him. “No, Colin. I’m not. Because I love my brother. And for some reason, he already looks up to you.”
He nods curtly. “Good.”
“Don’t get comfortable,” I warn. “We’re nowhere near done.”