Page 68 of Dirty Rival

The next thing I know he’s kissing me, that earthy wonderful scent of him drugging me right up until the moment he groans. “That sound wasn’t pleasure,” I say, pulling back to look at him. “What’s wrong? What was that?”

He rests his forehead against mine. “Nothing.” He inhales and sits down, pressing his hands to his head. “Damn it to hell. I do not have time for this.”

I go down on my knees in front of him. He looks up at me. “Don’t go down on your knees in front of me right now when I can’t take full advantage of it.”

“Being crass isn’t going to piss me off and distract me. In other words, you aren’t getting you out of this. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’re on your knees and I can’t take advantage of it, is what’s fucking wrong,” he grumbles testily.

“Reid,” I command softly.

“You don’t give up, do you?”

“No, and you wouldn’t want me here if I did. Talk to me.”

“I do not want this going past this room or I swear—”

“It’s just you and me,” I say.

He studies me a long moment that feels like an hour. “I played football in college. I had a few concussions. I used to get migraines.”

“Used to or do?”

“Nothing for five years.”

“Until now,” I supply.

“Yes,” he confirms. “Until now.”

“Do you have medication?”

“Not anymore.”

“Okay, well, you’re rich,” I say. “We’ll get a doctor over here.”

“Did you just stay I’m rich and we’ll get a doctor over here?”

“Yes. I did.” I stand up and reach for the phone. He rolls toward me, his hands coming down on my hips.

“Don’t.”

I turn to face him. “You need—”

“Elijah and who knows who else are having me watched. These takeover roles are high-profile and high-pressure. I cannot have this problem now.”

“It’s a headache, Reid.”

“It’s more than that. I cannot have someone dig up my concussion history and decide I’m going to go off the deep end.”

“It’s one migraine in five years. You’re human, Reid.”

“Outside of my brother Gabe, you’re about the only person who really believes that. I need to keep it that way.”

I don’t miss the fact that he left his sister and his other brother out of that statement. I focus on a solution. “Then you need to get rid of the headache.”

“I use a combination of Advil, Excedrin Migraine, and Sudafed. If I get that rotation in me and take a twenty-minute nap, I’ll be fine.”

“Oh,” I say. “Okay. We can do that.” I try again to turn and he stops me, his fingers flexing at my hips.