Page 72 of Offsides

“That’s the very definition of censoring!” she screamed, stomping her foot, as if somehow that drove home her point.

It didn’t.

It made an entirely different point.

That stomp was like a punch to his gut. Standing before him, hands on her hips, was not the woman he’d fallen for. She looked like that woman, and his body ached to hold her. But this wasn’t her. He wasn't sure what kind of invasion of the body snatchers magic had gone down while he wasn’t looking, but something had changed. Gone was the sweet, loving Theo. In her place was the worst thing he could imagine.

A reporter. A bloodthirsty, life-sucking reporter.

Cowboy pushed up from the couch, his knees screaming at him, stiff from long hours of sitting. Stepping closer to Theo, he looked her straight in the eye, trying to keep his anger tamped down.

“Call it whatever the fuck you want, darlin’. But you’re not getting that interview.”

Grabbing his bag, he stormed out of the lobby. The bright sun blinded him for a moment as he stepped into the parking lot, forcing him to take a second to get reoriented. For the life of him he couldn’t remember where the hell he had parked.

That’s because Theo drove…because luggage…

“Fuck!”

Pulling out his phone to call a Lyft, he cursed again. This was not how this day was supposed to end. Of course, Keaton banging on the door and waking him up was not how it was supposed to begin either. It had been all-around shitty.

“You are unbelievable,” Theo exclaimed, bursting into the parking lot, the door slamming behind her.

“I’m unbelievable? I’m unbelievable?” he shouted back. “Well, guess what, darlin’, that makes two of us. Because you are apparently just like every other blood-sucking reporter out there.”

“Why? Because I’m doing my job?”

“Were you just doing your job when you were fucking me too?”

The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. The rage that was flowing through him didn’t want to stop them. He needed to know if all of this had just been part of the job for her. He should have known that getting involved with a reporter was a bad idea. Nothing good came from involving reporters—he had said that for almost three decades at this point. Theo had been more than a reporter though, or so he’d thought.

Theo’s face morphed from anger to hurt, then right back to anger. Cowboy’s gut churned as he waited for her to respond. Despite his anger, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to hear her admit that this was all just part of getting her story—that she had played him for the fool in hopes that it would land her the story of her career.

“Do you really think so little of me?” she spat. “That I would stoop to that level for a story? That all the success that I’ve earned—all my blood, sweat, and tears that I have poured into this job—has really been given to me because I dropped to my knees or bent over a desk?”

Cowboy swallowed hard. He didn’t think that. He knew how hard she worked, what she had given up. How much of a rule follower she was. Doing things by the books was her MO. Still, the voice in his head was screaming—she’s a reporter, and reporters don’t have souls. Maybe this was the story that was big enough that breaking the rules was worth it.

“No,” he admitted. “But I also thought you were different. That you weren’t the kind of person who would go after someone in the worst moment of their life, just to rub their faces in it, making it entertainment for the rest of the world. And if I was wrong about that, what else am I wrong about?”

Theo stumbled backward, as if his words had been a physical blow to her. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes, making his own stomach churn. Her tears didn’t sting nearly as much as her betrayal though, and he wasn’t about to back down.

“You just want to be wrong about me. Because that’s what fits your narrative. That’s what allows you to feel like you’re superior. Newsflash, Callahan, I’m a reporter, and a fucking good one. I’m just doing my job. Deal with it.”

“I’m sure there were plenty of ‘good reporters just doing their job’ as they were dragging my family’s name through the mud, pushing my uncle to suicide. So go ahead and keep using that as a defense.”

“You asked me to trust you, and I did. But you know what? That trust goes both ways. And apparently you don’t trust me enough to know that I am not like that,” she countered, the hurt in her eyes shining through the tears. “You’re a smooth talker, Callahan, I’ll give you that. Five minutes ago you were throwing around the word boyfriend like a Hacky Sack, and now it’s part of my job to sleep with you. And all that bullshit about me being yours? Seems to me like you were the one using me. All so you could get off.”

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy it, darlin’.”

“Guess you’ll never really know, now will you? After all, it was all part of the job.”

Spinning on her heel, she headed toward her car. Cowboy’s whole body was ready to burst into flames. Who was this woman? Tough, resilient, tenacious—Theo was all of that in spades. But she was also thoughtful and caring. His Theo wouldn’t stand in a parking lot screaming, accusing him of using her for sex, all because he asked for a favor. The woman who just walked away from him was not his Theo.

That woman apparently wasn’t real.

Theo threw one last glance over her shoulder before she got into the car. “I’ll be in contact with Felicity about that interview. But don’t worry, even if I don’t get it, I have more than enough to work with. Thanks to the great visitors of the Las Vegas strip.”

“You do that,” he threw back. The fire was still raging in him. He couldn’t let her get in the last word. He needed to land one last jab. Maybe that was childish, but too bad. Her betrayal hurt. And he wanted to make sure she was hurting just as bad as he was. “Oh, and Theo? Those ‘rules’ you insist on adhering to? They won’t keep you warm at night. So when you’re all alone, and that job of yours is no longer enough, know that you have no one but yourself to blame.”