Page 99 of The Check Down
I fist my hands at my hips instead.
He tracks the movement before focusing on my face again. “I’m furious because when you got upset with me tonight, instead of communicating your feelings and talking it out, you fucking walked away.”
My heart sinks. He’s right. Jack and I handled conflict by walking away. It was easier to sweep it under a rug than to utilize the sweat equity to make it right.
And as I stand in front of a man who’s willing to put in the hard work, I realize that I don’t know how.
That sudden epiphany is terrifying. What if I’m horrible at this, and he decides I’m not worth the trouble?
Ah, those good old physiological reaction choices have returned. And this time? I’m going withflight.
I sidestep Griffin, ready to head for the stairs, but he mimics my movement like a predator stalking its prey. “You run up those stairs, professor, and I’ll just haul your fine ass back down here.”
Knees trembling, I swallow.
“We’re doing this—now. Fighting it out. Go ahead,” he challenges, tipping his chin. “Ask me the question.”
Before I can second-guess myself, I do it. “You fucked her?”
His eyes widen, then a small smirk sneaks across his distracting lips. Unlike him, that word is not part of my daily vocabulary. But he answers without hesitation. “Yes.” He plants his hands on his hips. “She and I were a thing, years ago. Before I dated Kate. It wasn’t serious.”
I give him a simple nod, even as doubt and fear and jealousy swirl like a storm inside me. “Why is she here? In Memphis?”
He pops a shoulder. “Shocked the hell out of me when I saw her in the crowd. She’s a jersey chaser. Guess she’s worked her way through the guys in Nashville, and now she’s seeing a guy on our practice squad. She still lives over there, but she said she comes over for team events. And booty calls, I assume.”
My head ceases its bobbing. “Was tonight—” I shake my head, try again. “When did you last see her?”
“It’s been years.” Slowly, he saunters in my direction. “Let me be very clear: I haven’t so much asthoughtabout another woman since the day you crashed into me.” His eyes pierce me with intense passion as he draws closer. “You might see other women smile at me, laugh with me, try to flirt with me. But know this: the whole time, I’m only thinking of you. You consume me, Brynn.”
I scoff, ignoring the way my heart flutters. “There you go, saying all the right things again.”
His response is a cocky smirk that makes me roll my eyes. But the intense tightness in my chest from before aches less with every step he takes.
When he’s within reach, he holds out his hand. A peace offering. And when my fingertips brush his, he closes his eyes in relief.
“It killed me when you walked away tonight. I sat with Beau and Paige, and every three minutes, I stood up to go find you, but I forced myself to stay where I was. Figured you needed space. And I didn’t want to have an audience when we hashed this out.”
“I’m sorry I walked away.” I infuse the words with all the sincerity I feel. “That was how I handled things…before. But I promise to do better.” Chin trembling, I lower my head and blink back tears.
His entire being deflates. “Come here.”
The moment I’m tucked in his embrace, the tears break free. “I’m sorry,” I repeat into his shirt.
He rubs big, soothing circles on my back. “Me, too. I’m sorry it upset you to see me talking to her. But I can’t promise we won’t ever run into a woman from my past.”
“I know,” I pout. There’s no masking my petulance. “But I hate it.”
“Hey.” He pulls back and frames my face, his hold gentle yet firm. “I get it. You think it doesn’t kill me to know that weasel Cockburn has had his hands on you?” He rests his forehead againstmine. “We carry our prior relationships into new ones, unfortunately. But let’s keep them where they belong—in the past, over and done—and focus on loving each other.”
“I can do that,” I whisper past the lump in my throat.
“Good. Me, too.” He takes my mouth in a slow, sweet kiss. Before it gets too heated, he breaks the connection and pulls me back into his chest, my head tucked beneath his chin. “First fight, professor. And we handled it, made it to the other side.”
I snort-laugh, the sound thick from the night’s emotions. “What’s on the other side?”
He doesn’t answer right away, so I lean back. As he regards me now, his eyes are at their darkest, a blue so deep I could drown in them. The way he traces swirls on my bare shoulder, along with the husky quality of his voice, sparks a cluster of goose bumps across my body.
“Makeup sex. Hot, sweaty makeup sex.”