Chapter 22
BIG HIT – CRUSHING TACKLE, OFTEN REPLAYED.
The second the words leave her lips, something fierce twists my gut.
Bryce is reaching out? Like he has a right?
He held something precious within his grasp—more important than Wine of the Year or the Lombardi Trophy—and he didn’t have the damn sense to treasure it.
I pace back and forth, but the short, uneven movements don’t relieve the pressure crawling up my spine. “Un-fucking-believable.”
Maya glares at me. “What? That a man might regret throwing me over?”
“No! That he thinks he can use those damn ballet classes they made him take to be a better quarterback to twirl his way back into your good graces. What? Did he think he could whip out some old memories to make you nostalgic?”
“Troy—”
“Seriously! Does Mr. Cheat ‘Em and Leave ‘Em think you’ve been pining this whole time? Maybe he thinks if he gets a few of the players to serenade you, you’ll forget he debased you in front of the universe!”
Maya’s chin jerks up. “Are you seriously implying that I’m moronic enough to take back a piece of shit like Bryce Parry because I can’t delete all the crap mail he’s shitting in my inbox?”
The way she phrases it makes me want to choke on my own words, laugh aloud, and smack myself in the forehead. Unfortunately for me, I don’t heed any of those warnings. “Right now, it feels like you’re giving him more time than that worm deserves.”
Her fury sharpens. “No, Troy. That would be you doing that. I have more self-respect than to do something that idiotic. I thought you realized that as well.”
Her words hit harder than the tackle that took out my leg. “Maya—”
She shakes her head, disbelief flashing in her eyes. “You don’t get to act all righteous and superior with your holier than thou attitude simply because you agree with my actions. You’re acting as petulant as he is, only I can’t mute you.” She mutters as an afterthought, “Though I wish I could.”
Shame washes over my cheeks. “You’re right.”
“I know I am,” her voice blazes.
Exhaling slowly, I try to defuse the situation I caused out of my insecurity. “I hate knowing he’s trying to capture your attention again.”
“Do you really think I’m weak enough to take him back?”
Her words stop me cold. I shake my head back and forth. Before I can talk myself out of it, I close the distance between us. “I just can’t—won’t—see you hurt by him again.”
Her expression eases. “Troy—”
“He hurt you. He made you question your self-worth. Now he’s up to something.” I bite out the words.
Her smile is cold. “He won’t get a chance to crawl back in like nothing happened.”
“All I want is to protect you.” Every chance you’ll let me.
She cups my face before patting my cheek. “Now, that’s sweet.”
I wince. “Not bad ass?”
“Sweet is good,” she reassures me. Before I can argue for my right for a more burly accolade, she informs me, “You need to trust me. I refuse to entertain the idea of going back to a man who refused to play honorably with my heart.”
Her point is well made. The last bit of bluster is knocked from my sails. I nod.
Just as we’re about to move past the incident, another ping resonates in the room. I close my eyes to hide my frustration.
But Maya surprises me. She unlocks her phone and hands it to me. “I have nothing to hide.”
Opening her email app, there are multiple email addresses I don’t recognize. “What’s with the changing email?”
Calmly, she informs me, “He sends a message—or twelve. I block him. He starts a new one.”
I meet her gaze with concern. “Some might consider that obsessive.” Others might consider it stalking, I think to myself before I read through the messages, which all have a similar flavor.
From: B. Parry
To: Maya Cox
Subject: Miss you, babe.
Maya,
I’ve made mistakes but the love we share isn’t forgettable.
Let’s get together to talk about how we can work through this blip.
Bryce.
If Bryce were standing in front of me right now, I’d be eager to remind him exactly how much power I still have in my kicking leg despite my career-ending injury. He’d know exactly how easily I could drive my boot up his ass with it. “Son of a bitch. He’s trying to gaslight you!”
“I know that.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ve completely moved past caring about anything Bryce Parry does.”
I fling her phone away from us both, as if physically removing the proximity will also remove the toxicity of the contents. “How about I help you remember what his stupidity cracked wide open?”
Her pulse flutters visibly at her throat. “Th-that sounds good.”
Just before my lips brush hers, I murmur, “That sounds better than ‘good,’ uvetta mia.”
For long moments after that, neither of us says a word. All I can think is I’m the luckiest fucker alive. Because he let her go and she’s in my arms.
And I never plan on contemplating, let alone making the same mistake he did.
When our lips part, I pull back. My knuckle comes to rest beneath her chin. “If he continues to contact you, let me know. I don’t want you to have to carry that burden alone.”
“Okay. But I’m sure it’s nothing.” She flaps her hand. “He’ll give up, eventually.”
But will he? Despite how much I despise him, Bryce is a halfway intelligent guy. He knows what he has lost.
The question being, is Maya mine yet to claim?