Page 37 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)
I’d never seen him so furious. I didn’t know it was possible for him tobefurious. He was always so good-natured, but right now, with his body coiled and his face creased in a scowl, he was the picture of pure, unadulterated anger.
However, with the pap gone and air quiet once more, the anger slowly drained, leaving visible frustration behind.
“I need to upgrade my security.” Asher rubbed a hand over his face. He sounded tired, and a needle of sympathy pierced my gut. “I didn’t want to turn this place into a bloody surveillance state, but I can’t have people sneaking in like that. If we hadn’t caught him in time…”
A chill rippled over my skin. In one month, we’d had two close calls with the paparazzi. How long until our luck ran out?
“How did he get in?”
Breaking onto school grounds was one thing; breaking onto someone’s private property was another.
“My landscaping crew was in and out while we were training. He must’ve slipped in with them.” Asher’s jaw clenched. “Peoplelike him are fucking vultures, sniffing around for any scraps they can find.”
The needle of sympathy dug deeper. “Being in the public eye like that must be awful.”
Vincent dealt with the same thing to a certain degree, but no athlete sold headlines like Asher. The scrutiny and invasions of privacy he faced were on another level.
“I could handle it if they were just coming after me. I know what I signed up for,” Asher said. “But you’re getting caught up in this mess, and that’s not fucking okay.”
His words pulsed in my veins, filling them with uncomfortable warmth. “Oh. I…” I stumbled for a second before I regained my composure. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m a big girl. I can handle an out-of-shape pap.”
That brought forth a small curve in his lips. “Says the person panting like she just ran a marathon.”
“Give me a break. It’s been years since I ran like that.” My jelly-like legs confirmed my long break with cardio.
The hint of a smile vanished. “Shit. I forgot how high-impact running is. It’s not good for chronic pain, is it?”
The warmth in my veins melted into honey. Hell,everythingmelted. At this rate, they’d have to scrape me off the driveway with a spatula. “You looked up chronic pain?”
A wash of dull red colored Asher’s cheekbones. “Out of curiosity, that’s all,” he said. “I didn’t know much about it, so I figured I should learn the basics. Obviously.”
“Obviously.”
Was it normal for a human heart to beat this fast? I had my annual checkup a few weeks ago. The doctor said everything looked normal, but maybe I needed a second opinion becausesomethingstrange was going on inside my chest.
Asher’s eyes flickered with an array of emotions I couldn’t decipher. “Do you want to take a bath?”
The abrupt switch in subjects was so absurd, it jolted me back into normality. “Excuse me?”
“A bath. For inflammation. I take one after a particularly intense workout. It helps with recovery.”
“Inflammation. Right.”Of course he wasn’t asking if you wanted to take a bath with him, idiot.“It’s okay. I can take one at home.”
Except a bathdidsound wonderful, and home was at least an hour away if I factored in afternoon traffic.
The remaining adrenaline drained from my limbs. I wanted to lie down on the driveway and let the sunbaked stone take away my soreness.
“Are you sure? I have a million guest baths. It’s not a big deal.” Asher’s frown suggested he’d picked up on my dip in energy. “Traffic is a nightmare at this time of day. If you’re not feeling well, I don’t want things getting worse while you’re stuck in Piccadilly.”
No. It would be too weird for me to take a bath at a trainee’s house, especially when said trainee was Asher Donovan.
I should absolutely, positively, 100 percentnotaccept his offer.
Except I was so tired, and my body hurt, and if I didn’t sit down right now, I might pass out for the second time in front of him and wouldn’tthatbe embarrassing?
“I…”Don’t do it. Suck it up. Wait until you’re home.“Okay. If you don’t mind.”
CHAPTER 11