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He's trying to avoid letting me in. It's like we never had a connection at all. Maybe it was all in my head? Our only moments together in the last month have been fleeting glances and one quick bathroom fuck, where it seemed like things were still good between us. He'd said I was still his.
Well… he said my ass was his. Is that really the same thing?
Either way, I still need to talk to him, though, but obviously not out in this hallway.
My shoulders droop. "I don't want to be overheard. It's about Aniyah." I lift an eyebrow, letting him know that I'm not just talking about my relationship with her, but about what she knows.
His whole body stiffens at the mention of her name, but he nods. After looking both ways down the hallway, he steps back and lets me in. His entire demeanor is cool and professional, the way he is with everyone else. The way he used to be before this thing became more than a game.
He gestures to the small sitting area in his suite and grabs me a bottle of water before opening a small bottle of whiskey from the minibar. I don't say anything, but he catches me watching him. My eyes cut to the other side of the room, landing on the sliding glass door to the balcony. When I look back at him again, his lips quirk.
"At least it's warmer here," I joke.
"At least you're not naked," he retorts.
"Not yet."
"Jack."
"Bryant."
Like always, his eyes fly to my mouth when I use his first name. I used to think it was because he liked it, but now I'm wondering if he's just considering my audacity. Now his gaze feels more like a warning, but predictably, the danger he projects sends a lick of excitement up my spine and my cock twitches. His eyes flick to the movement, but he quickly looks away.
"I hear congratulations are in order," he says in a low voice.
I release a heavy huff of air, my chest clenching at the tone in his voice. The judgment. The resignation.
"That's what I need to talk to you about. You need to know, it's not real."
"That rock looks pretty real to me."
"The marriage is real. It’s happening. But the relationship isn't."
"Could have fooled me," he gruffs out, taking a large swig of his whiskey.
"It's the deal I made. For her silence. To keep our secret."
"What are you talking about, Jack?" He looks both angry and confused.
"I was grasping at straws, and tried offering her money I don't have yet. I told her about the numbers that the scouts discussed with me. She wanted more than just the money, though. She wants the status of being an NFL wife, and she needed collateral, which I obviously don't have."
"So you agreed to marry her?"
I nod, bending over to rest my elbows on my knees and raking my hands through my hair. "The deal was I marry her right after the championship game, so we're married before I sign anything. So that way she'll be entitled to whatever I earn for the whole first year, when I'll have the most income from the bonus and any rookie endorsements. After the year, we separate and divorce on good terms, and I won't fight her to take half of everything plus a year of alimony."
"Jesus Jack."
"I don't care about the money. It was an easy deal to make to cover up my stupid mistake, to keep us both safe." It was an easy deal… when I thought I'd get to keep him.
"Except she wants more now?"
I look at him, sitting across from me with a fierce expression. "How did you know?"
"Because I've spent a lot more time in the circles of these people. And enough is never enough for people who are used to getting everything."
My head drops into my hands, and I rub them over my face before leaning my head against the back of the chair and venting my frustration to the ceiling. "Arghhh!" I yell in frustration.
He's just confirmed what I already know, that she'll never let me go without a fight. She'll keep using that video as collateral, yanking me along, trying to force me into a real relationship with her. What happens when she wants kids?
