Page 31 of Broken As Puck

I wanted to push and insist that she take it, but I also didn’t want to make her any more uncomfortable than I already had. Instead, I just said, “Won’t you hold onto it for a little while? Just look over the features and think about it?”

“No.” Her lips were pressed together regretfully, but her expression didn’t waver. “I’m sorry, this is nice, even if I’m confused about why you’re doing it, but I just can’t.”

My stomach dropped to my shoes. “I understand.”

I packed the boxes back into my backpack, zipped up, and made for the door. Just as I exited, Stella came down the corridor toward me. An idea struck and I waved to her.

“Hi, Stella. I was just looking for you.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Why?”

“I’m having a cleanout at home. I have this camera I bought a couple of years ago and never used, along with a bunch of equipment to go with it. Selling it is too much hassle and it’s not like I need the money, so I thought it might be useful to the team.”

A brilliant suggestion, if I did say so myself. If Stella accepted the camera and lenses, Chelsey might get to use them, even if it wasn’t in the way I’d intended her to.

Stella frowned and made a “let’s see it” gesture. I took off my backpack, opened it, and pulled out the camera box. I didn’t know how much experience she had with cameras, so it was impossible to know whether she would see through my bullshit or not.

One side of her mouth curled in a smirk. “You just happened to have this lying around, huh?”

“That’s right.” I was committed to the story.

She laughed. “Well, I’m not about to turn down such a generous donation. Come with me, and I’ll show you where to put it.”

I went with her, relieved when she headed back the way she’d come instead of going into the open-plan office area, where I’d have to face Chelsey again. Hopefully, Chelsey wouldn’t be too angry at me for my workaround.

Once I’d handed everything over, I tried my hardest not to think about Chelsey and the camera for the rest of the day. Of course, I didn’t manage very well. But I tried.

The next morning, I was parked at the stadium and heading to catch the bus to go to our game when an angry blonde came rushing toward me, her eyes practically slits and her cheeks a startling shade of pink.

“You can’t buy your way back into my life,” she snapped, stepping between me and the sliding glass doors.

I stopped a few yards away, leaving space to dodge in case she decided to go for my balls. “I’m not trying to.”

“Uh-huh. Then why did the team receive a donated camera last night?” Her nostrils flared. “I know you didn’t have that just lying around your house like you told Stella. You told me you asked the guy at the shop about it, and I’m more inclined to believe you lied to her than me because only a serious landscape photographer would have that kind of gear.”

I cringed. I’d really hoped she wouldn’t remember that, but I supposed that had been asking for too much. “I’m not trying to buy anything,” I insisted. “I just want you to have the things that make you happy.”

She folded her arms over her ample chest, and I did my best not to notice the way it lifted her cleavage. “Why?”

I stared at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

She rolled those pretty blue eyes. “Why do you want me to be happy?”

“Because I care about you.” I’d never stopped, not even when we’d broken up.

She stomped her foot. “But why? We’re not together. We haven’t been for years. I know what kind of lifestyle you guys lead. You’re probably with a different girl in each city you travel to, so why are you bothering with me?”

I reared back as if I’d been struck. Was that really what she thought of me? That I was the kind of man who’d enjoy sleeping around? It was laughable. In fact, it couldn’t be further from the truth. I was almost certain that she’d been with more people in the time we’d been apart than I had, considering my number was zero.

I reached for her hand, but she yanked it away from me. I moved forward, determined that, if nothing else, she was going to hear me this one time. “You’re the only girl for me. The only one I’ve ever loved. The only one I’ve ever been with.”

Her mouth fell open and she stepped back, stunned. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” I assured her, hoping with every fiber of my being that she could hear my sincerity. “You were my first love, and there’s been no one else since you. Not in my bed, nor in my heart.”

Her mouth trembled, and she raised her hand to her lips. “Don’t lie.”

“I promise, I’m not. I’m telling you the truth. Ask anyone. I don’t date. I don’t have one-night stands. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. And I want you to be happy, whatever that looks like.”