Epilogue
Sean
I shouldn’t want her. She’s Coach’s daughter for fuck’s sake, and he hates me, but the heart—okay, maybe not the heart—wants what it wants, and for some reason, I can’t stay away.
Watching her with that little dipshit all night while she laughed at his stupid jokes and put her hands on him messed me up.
I wanted to break his face. And the way he was trying to be all chummy with me and my friends?
Coming up here . . . using her and using Cal’s gala to rub elbows with us, trying to gain another investment portfolio?
Yeah, fuck that guy. I see him for exactly what he is: a weasel.
Hannah heads out of the ballroom by herself, and I follow behind her. We’re halfway to the restrooms when I catch up to her. Grabbing her elbow, I spin her around, backing her up against the wall.
“Let go of me, Sean!”
“I’m never letting go of you,” I breathe. “You should know that by now. I can’t stay away from you any more than you can stay away from me.”
She tries to duck around me, but I place my arms up against the wall, caging her in.
“I’ve moved on. You should too,” she grits out.
Leaning down, I speak low into her ear. “What are you going to do? Huh? Marry the guy? We both know that little shrimp dick will never give you what you need. He’s a fucking bore. All he cares about is work.”
I crowd her space, pressing myself into her. Jealousy and pure anger course through my entire body.
“I’m saving you from yourself, sweetheart.
If you choose him, ten years down the road, you’ll look back on this day, miserable and wondering what the hell you were thinking.
His vanilla ass will keep you on your back in the missionary position.
Two fucking pumps and he’ll be done, rolling over exhausted while you dig a vibrator out of your nightstand to finish the job for him. He won’t ever fuck you like I do.”
“That’s all you care about, isn’t it? Maybe I want more than sex!”
“End. It.”
“Fuck you, Sean Mackenzie.”
“Oh, that’s a given. After you fucking end it with him.”
“What are you going to do if I don’t? Huh?” she sasses, arching a brow. “You can’t just barge in and crash my date . . . and you sure as shit can’t make me break up with him.”
“The fuck I can’t. Watch me.”
I pick her up and toss her over my shoulder.
“Put me the fuck down!” she yells, slapping at me.
My hand crashes hard across her ass as I keep walking. Reaching into my pocket, I press the fob, unlocking my truck and slinging open the door. When I plant her feet on the ground, she tries to duck around me again, but I block her path.
“Get in the truck, Hannah.”
“No.”
“You. Are. Mine. Not his.” I point to the truck. “Now be a good fucking girl and park your ass in that seat before I bend you over right here and show the whole goddamn world who you really belong to.”
“You make a lot of demands for someone who has no business making them.” She crosses her arms against her chest and pops one hip to the side. “Well, guess what? I’m not that girl anymore. I’m not your plaything. You can’t pick me up and put me down whenever you damn well please. You want me?”
She tosses her hands out when I don’t give her an answer. “Do. You. Want. Me? It’s a pretty simple yes or no question.”
“Yes.” I breathe, shoving a hand in my pocket. “I want you, Hannah.”
“Then prove it.”
Her shoulder checks mine as she walks past, and without looking back, she strides back into gala.