Page 30 of Sin Bin Bully

Still, I don't move. And neither does Kim by the sound of. She keeps sitting there, and I wonder what she is thinking.

I lean against the wall, my jaw clenched tight. Is Kim considering my mother's offer? Fuck that. She has no way out, no phone, no escape. I won't let her go. But I need her to submit, to admit what we both know.

She wants this. I want this. It's that simple.

My mother's words echo in my head. Get over this obsession? Bullshit. Kim isn't some passing fancy. She's everything I've ever wanted, everything I never knew I needed.

I push off the wall and stride towards the room. Through the crack in the door, I see Kim sitting there, still as a statue. Her eyes are fixed on some distant point, lost in thought.

Damn, she's beautiful. That perfect skin, those full lips. The way her body moves when she dances... It drives me wild. And that fire in her eyes when she fights back? Fucking intoxicating.

My mother doesn't understand. She thinks Kim's just another girl, someone I'll discard like all the rest. But she's wrong. Dead wrong.

Kim is the only one for me. The only one who's ever challenged me, excited me, made me feel alive. I'll make her see that. I'll make her understand that we belong together.

I'm about to burst into the room when my pocket vibrates. Fuck. I backpedal, putting distance between me and Kim before fishing out my phone. The screen flashes with an incoming call from Joe, my manager.

"What?" I snarl into the receiver.

"Sam, we've got a situation." His voice is tight, urgent. "There are allegations you've been using steroids before games. We need you to come in for a drug test. Now."

The words hit me like a freight train. My vision blurs, rage bubbling up from my gut. "What the fuck are you talking about?" I hiss, my free hand clenching into a fist.

"I don't know the details, but it's serious. The league's involved. We need to get ahead of this."

My mind races. Steroids? That's bullshit. I've never touched the stuff. Who the hell would?—

"Sam? You there?"

I realize I've been grinding my teeth, jaw clenched so tight it aches. "Yeah, I'm here," I growl.

I grip the phone so hard I'm surprised it doesn't shatter. "Steroids? Are you fucking kidding me, Joe?"

"I wish I was. We need to?—"

"No," I cut him off, my voice low and dangerous. "You listen to me. I've never touched that shit. Never. You know how I feel about cheaters."

"I know, Sam, but?—"

"But nothing." I pace the hallway, my free hand clenching and unclenching. "I've busted my ass since I was a kid to get where I am. Every goal, every assist, every fucking bruise—that's all me. No shortcuts."

Joe sighs. "I believe you, but the league doesn't care what we believe. They want proof."

I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Proof? Fine. I'll give them their fucking proof." I'm practically snarling now. "And I want names, Joe. Who's spreading this bullshit?"

There's a pause on the other end of the line. "I don't know, Sam. But we need to handle this carefully. One wrong move and?—"

"And what? My career's over?" I scoff. "Let them try. I've got nothing to hide."

I hear Kim shift in the other room, and suddenly I remember where I am, what I was doing before this clusterfuck of a call. Shit. I can't leave her, not now. But I can't ignore this either.

God help whoever started this rumor, because when I find them...

They're going to wish they'd never heard the name Sam Warwick.

"This is fucking ridiculous."

"I know it is," he assures me. "But you're going to have to come in and take a test."