3. Zak

"Jesus Christ." Matt pulls away like I just touched a lit match to his ear. He does a full body twist to face me. "Zak."

There's apprehension in his voice, like he doesn't know what to expect next.

He has no fucking idea.

"Are you really that surprised to see me? That I wouldn't come over to say "hi," just for old time's sake?" I force a smile but glare at him hard.

Matt's head jerks left and right, but he must realize there's no chance of escape for him. He clears his throat and adjusts his tie. "I didn't expect to see…um, I only just found out that you took over ownership of the team. I'm, uh, sorry about your dad."

"I'll bet you are." My eyes narrow, lips twisting at the memory I can't ever forget, no matter how much I will my mind to incinerate it. "If he hadn't gotten run over by that fucking idiot, he'd be the one here tonight. Not me."

I inch toward him.

Then, I continue, "He didn't know your secret. Life would be so much easier for you if he didn't die, wouldn't it?"

Matt's fists ball up at his sides. Good. I want him to want to punch me. I want him to feel anger. God knows, I've lived with it long enough.

"Don't say that."

I shrug. "Why not? It's true. I bet you're thinking it right now."

He lets out a snort. "Well, it's damn obvious that you know me now about as well as you knew me back in college. Not fucking at all."

"I'm the only one who could see through you, Matt. Or did you bury that along with everything else that happened between us?"

His jaw tightens. "Look, it was a long time ago?—"

"Not to me," I seethe. "Not when I've had to watch you parade around like the fucking king you think you are for the past eight years. You ruined me, and you didn't give a good goddamn when my life went up in smoke. You just poked at the ashes."

The color in Matt's face drains, leaving his skin a pasty white color. "You never even let me explain?—"

"Explain that you didn't want the world to slap the same stigma on you that they did on me? That you somehow had more to lose than I did? You were wrong. I was outed against my will. I suffered for my choices. I lost everything because of them. You think money can make that shit go away?"

He rakes a hand through his dark blond hair. I grit my teeth, and my fingers tingle. His hair was so soft, so thick. I remember wrapping my fingers around it when I came deep inside of him that night, how his body writhed against me as his cock exploded.

My heart clenches. I thought there was something real between us. I took a risk when I kissed him that first time back in college. We were freshmen, stars of the football team, and living the dream. I fell for him almost immediately, drawn to his looks, personality, and talent like a moth to a flame.

But for as popular as he was with the girls on campus, I'd always suspected there was something deeper than what he wanted the world to see. And when he kissed me back, I knew I wanted him to be my first. Nobody knew about us, and people weren't open to the idea of gay players on the football field. To say Ohio State is conservative is a gross understatement.

So we kept things quiet. Secret. Until the torches came out.

Then, he left me to burn.

Fuck. No! I'm not tripping down Memory fucking Lane tonight.

"Poor little rich boy," he sneers. "You always had a pole up your ass, Kacey. Always thinking you were better than everyone else because your dad could buy any football team you wanted to play for."

My spine stiffens. "Except he couldn't because you made sure I'd never play again."

"Don't you dare pin that on me."

I jab at his chest with my finger. "You could have stopped it, and you didn't. You fucking chicken shit asshole."

"Fuck you." Matt's eyes darken with rage. "My life was nothing without football. It was…and still is…survival for me. But not for you. You had Daddy's money. I had fucking nothing. Nobody to rely on but myself, okay? So don't pretend to know a single thing about my life. You only know what you know, and lemme tell you something." He leans in close. "What you think you know amounts to shit."

"Be very careful, Harrison. Because I know plenty. And you're not the only one capable of ruining lives anymore."

His eyes narrow to slits. "Is that a threat?"

I allow the corners of my lips to lift. "I'm a businessman. And everything comes down to dollars and cents. I need to make decisions that will make the franchise money. And you suck up a whole lot of it. I'm struggling to figure out why."

Fear replaces the fury in Matt's gaze.

Truthfully, I'd love to cut him and watch him scramble to get another offer. He's a solid player, but he's more famous for who he hits it with than how good he is at kicking the ball. There are rookie kickers I could pay a shit ton less who could do the job just as well. But his notoriety is like a safety net for him. He gets press; I'll give him that.

And he's not thinking of it as a bargaining chip right now. No, he's panicking. Hard.

So I turn the knife, deepening the gash.

"Maybe if you spent more time on your game instead of convincing the world that you're straight when you and I both know you're fucking not, you'd be considered an asset." I stroke the bottom of my chin, like I've really considered letting him go. "And since your contract is up for renewal, any good businessman would have to find the value in keeping your bloated salary on the payroll before signing another one."

Dots of red creep into his face. "You'd release me just because of a fucking stupid vendetta that you've held on to for almost a decade?" His lips stretch into a tight line. "You're more pathetic than I thought. Get a fucking life, Kacey. And don't mess with mine."

He's so close, I can dip my head and grab onto his lower lip with my teeth.

I hate that I'm even thinking that right now.

I hate that he's right, that I've held onto this anger, that it's been a constant demon I can't seem to outrun.

But what I hate more is that, even after all this time, I'm still hooked on the guy.

His coiffed hair, deep-set eyes, and chiseled jaw scream Liam Hemsworth. And that magnetic aura around him always managed to pull me in close. Me and every other living, breathing person in his airspace. He oozes confidence and charm, and his sexy smile still fucking makes my dick tingle.

"What are you defensive about, Matt? Are you worried that you're not as good as you want everyone to think you are?"

"I know how good I am." His nostrils flare. "And you can't make those decisions by yourself. There's no way?—"

"If I'm the only one pumping the investment into this franchise, then you'd better believe I get the final say in those decisions. And if I can't find a use for you, then guess what happens next?"

Matt grabs the lapels of my jacket and forces me back against a wall, my breath hitching because I've wanted this for so long, just under very difference circumstances.

"You can't take this away from me." His voice is strangled.

"Wrong." I smile, a devious, malicious smile that makes his eyes widen. "I'm in charge now. I can do anything I want."

I slide my hand down the front of his starched, blue shirt.

"And Matt, I'm going to make you do things you never dreamed of."

He's nervous. This god among men is actually afraid of what I might do next.

It's about fucking time. I never wanted anything to do with this team, but fate handed me an opportunity.

I finally get the chance to punish the guilty.