Chapter 19 #2
I huffed and sat up, trying to keep from experiencing the same feelings I’d had before.
With her, I’d been free floating, enjoying the moment, which wasn’t like me no matter how I’d seemed to people when off the ice.
Sloane had awakened so many emotions and feelings that the sting of them being stepped on reminded me of being punched with a bag of oranges.
You couldn’t see the injury, but the agony lingered for a long time.
“Yeah, well, she had no right.”
The woman was one of the strongest and sassiest I’d ever met and on this stormy day, she didn’t seem anything like herself. So the fuck what. If she was suffering, which I doubted she was, she deserved to feel the same burn.
Fuck her.
“I sent you a text. Two actually.”
“So what?” I jerked up from the chair, determined to get the hell away from her. Not because I hated her, but because I loathed the anger nearly consuming me. “Let me ask you a question. Who arranged for the interview with the boys from Sports Today?”
“My boss, Matthew Bartholomew.”
I nodded several times. “You mean the guy who appeared on your byline years ago? A particularly nasty story about shifters. More in general but certainly not placing our kind in a decent light.”
Her entire body tensing, she seemed to shrink back. “How did…”
“How did I find out? Well, you see,” I chortled as if any of this was funny.
“After you railroaded me with that interview, I did a little digging. People were trying to tell me that you were shocked, unprepared for the questions instead of providing them for two of the most unscrupulous people in sports reporting. Assholes with bad haircuts and even worse taste in clothing.”
“That’s exactly right. And they do have bad haircuts.” She even laughed a little, scorn dripping from her lips.
A groan left my throat that could rival any beast of the night. “Maybe I would have bought it if I hadn’t done a little search on the internet. Two can play at that game, Sloane.”
“I wasn’t playing a game.”
“Oh, really? Well, not only was Matthew Bartholomew someone you worked with, he was also your lover. Wasn’t he?”
Her emotional response changed, her signature scowl returned, her hands on her hips. “That was years ago. A mistake.”
“Uh-huh. What about the trip you took a couple weeks ago? You know, the one where you texted me from the plane?”
I knew the second she realized I’d caught her by the sheer number of expressions furrowing on her face. “It was a business trip.”
“Funny how the picture I was sent depicted otherwise. You seemed nice and cozy at a fancy dinner. Champagne. Wine. My guess you enjoyed lobster and steak while planning exactly how you were going to fuck my career. Right?”
She flinched with my over-emphasis on one bad word that used to have such a delicious meaning. “Beck. I need you to hear me. Okay? What happened wasn’t anything like what you think. The dinner you’re talking about was a surprise to me, forced at the last minute.”
“Forced.” I pressed my hand against my heart. “You certainly had a lovely dress on. Do you always pack rhinestones in your carryon? We should all be forced to attend a lavish dinner in our careers.”
“Another unwanted surprise.” She gritted her teeth.
“What about the shit with the Cruisers’ team? Did you take a photo of me supposedly beating Bronco to within an inch of his life?”
Now she was pissed. “Of course not. If anyone had asked me, I would have told them the truth since I was standing right there. That’s crap.”
“You could have said something in one of your great articles. You know, clearing my name?”
Even her sigh had a guilty conscience. “I was told to leave it alone and let the heat die down. In other words. I had no choice.”
“Really? Well, with the number of photographs and bullshit crossing social media, it ain’t dying down, sweetheart.”
“That’s another reason I’m here.”
I laughed all over again, although completely devoid of any emotion. “Yeah, well, I don’t want you here. So leave.”
“Not until we talk.” Her defiance was nothing but an irritant today. Then again, everything was. “What do you mean someone sent you a picture?”
“Just what I said. In vivid color. The two of you were close to kissing.” Was I jealous?
Fucking hell, yes. And that pissed me off almost more than anything else.
“Who? Who sent it?” She took a step closer and my God, the hunger was off the charts, but I refused to fall for her betrayal ever again.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does. Because—”
I threw my hand out. “Just stop right there. Just stop. I don’t really know why you decided to throw me under the bus, but you accomplished your goal.
I’ve had more hate mail in various forms than when people first realized I was a damn wolf.
Okay? I’ve had reporters hounding me. The team’s coach isn’t a hundred percent certain my contract isn’t going to be bought out.
Neither is my agent. That’s how toxic I am.
Okay? Mission accomplished. But what hurt the most was reading your diatribe on shifters right after we were exposed to the public.
Had I known how much you hated our kind, I never would have… ”
I couldn’t even finish the sentence, the words stuck in my throat.
“I don’t hate your kind. What you read was taken out of context, although I will admit that I was heavily influenced by the wrong people.”
“You mean by Matt.”
“Yes. A man I can’t stand. Do you think I wanted your career threatened? Do you honestly believe I would ever try and hurt you on purpose?”
“Why not? Didn’t your ratings soar?” I wouldn’t know because I hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of reading anything she’d written. Because then all I would have done is suffer even more.
She laughed, the sound entirely different than just moments before. “Apparently, you weren’t the only brunt of the ploy they used.”
While she seemed sincere, I was at the point of being unable to trust anyone any longer. “I just don’t care, Sloane. Maybe you weren’t just using me to boost your career, but—”
“Is that what you really think?” she threw out, interrupting me.
Her air of indignation was polished as hell.
I moved around the desk, daring to walk closer.
“What I think is that you figured I was a cash cow for you. When the big boys came calling, you decided I was an excellent scapegoat. You certainly did a number on me. I honestly can’t believe I bought the shit you were selling. ”
While my laugh sounded as hollow as hers, there was no turning back no matter if the reason didn’t include her full betrayal.
“I would never intentionally hurt you.”
She also took a step closer and the same angst from before, only even more intense created a wave of need that mentally and emotionally I couldn’t tolerate.
Not again. “I thought…” Well, shit. The electricity was far too high powered.
So much so my thoughts were already becoming muddy. That just couldn’t happen.
“You thought what? That maybe we had something, Beck? I thought so too. I’ve never felt so close to someone before.
Not once in my life. I sensed you felt the same way.
The pull we couldn’t deny, the lingering thoughts and sensations when we weren’t together.
It was very real and so confusing, but for once, I was genuinely happy. ”
The bitter anger swelled within me. “Well, I guess at least one of us felt that way.”
Hurt swept across her face, the kind of pain someone couldn’t manufacture.
Unless they were a damn good actress. Which she’d been. Damn good.