47

Kassie

Going To Be Painful Later

Ryan glanced over, his curls wet from a shower which he had to have taken once the bus brought him to the training center. There was half a grin on his face, basically a full, beaming smile from him. It must've been a good game. But his grin disappeared the moment he registered the look on my face.

He stopped fishing for his keys. "Kassie?"

It took me a moment to realize what I was seeing. "What's that?"

"What happened? "

"No, the thing on your…face…?" I inched between the photographers, stunned. Without even thinking about it, I reached up to touch it.

A shallow purple bruise stretched from his cheekbone to above his eyebrow like an old bar stain on one of my notecards. It was shiny, it was new, and it was not something June had told me about.

"What happened to you? "

"No, you tell me what happened." Ryan shoved his key in the lock and placed a hand on my back, leading me inside. Photographers filed in from behind but Ryan shifted around to look right at me. "Why were you in the lounge? What's wrong? Kassie, you need to tell me."

The photographers started setting up their equipment. I'd completely spaced the movie night. Cleo had specifically called in the calvary to snap photos of us, laughing, cuddling, and watching a movie just out of frame so we didn't get angry messages from producers on why we hadn't picked their film.

"But…?" I gestured towards my own face, mimicking his bruise.

Ryan brought me over to the couch. "We won and one of Miles's old teammates tried to clock Adam. The other guy in the bleacher bunny photo. He got me instead," Ryan answered impatiently. "Tell me what happened. Now."

"You defended Adam?"

"Of course I did. He's one of my boys. Don't look at me like— Kassie ." With quick steps, he sank into the seat next to me.

Even if Ryan didn't see me the way I saw him, my heart thumped in my chest regardless. The cameras weren't even on yet and he was freaking out about me, about the pretty obvious signs that I had a shit night. My throat hurt just looking at him. My eyes flickered down to the couch.

"It's a funny story," I mumbled.

Every part of me wanted to sling jokes about it. It wasn't even that bad, right? In terms of creepy interactions, I'd dealt with shittier bastards at the bars. It could've been a lot worse. But Henry Miller was everything I wanted to be when I graduated, everything I'd wanted to accomplish. Everything I'd been working towards.

To find out that the guy I looked up to used his meet-and-greets to be a weirdo hit me harder than I wanted to admit.

"Kassie."

"You know how they say you shouldn't meet your heroes?" I pressed the side of my face against the couch, hunkering down. "It doesn't matter. What's the plan for the movie night?"

"We're not doing the movie night."

"Ryan, we can't cancel." As much as I wanted to dip out of it, the football girlfriends always watched the away games together on Marrs campus and I had to miss that to make the dinner. "You know what Cleo would say—"

"I'll agree to schedule whatever they want. I don't care. The movie night's canceled."

The head photographer glanced up. "Mr. Cross?"

"It's canceled," Ryan threw over his shoulder. "We're rescheduling."

"But—?"

"We'll do it another time." He turned back to me. "Kassie, what really happened? The whole thing."

He wasn't going to let it go. I reached for a pillow to hold while everybody cleared out of his apartment. There were a lot of grumbles and complaints, but in the end, Ryan Cross was Ryan Cross. The photographers and prep team took their exit. The final click of the door echoed.

Time to tell how I threw up a middle finger at Henry Miller and stormed out.

But to my complete and utter embarrassment, I started crying two minutes into the story.

Crying? In front of RYAN?

I couldn't even remember the last time I'd cried at all. And in front of Ryan was just excruciating but I couldn't stop.

"Hey, hey." Ryan's voice was low and he slipped his hand to my waist, tugging me to him. And I let him. Any other night, I would've had the self-preservation to know this was going to hurt in the long run but in the meantime, all I wanted was exactly what Ryan provided. He engulfed me in a hug while I cried into his chest.

This is going to be so goddamn painful later .

"I'm so sorry." He kept his hand against the side of my face, stroking my jaw. "What a fuckhead."

"It's—it's fine."

"It's not. I'm going to find him and I'm—"

"You won't do anything like that." I shook my head, burying my head against his chest. The size difference was hard to ignore with him so close, he enveloped me so easily, holding me close. I swallowed. "You're not going to get yourself in trouble."

A heavy pause followed, and when I glanced up, Ryan was gazing down at my hands, twisted together on my lap. A beat skipped between us. His breathing slowed. I could feel it. Slowly, he reached down and carefully picked up my wrist so gently, I couldn't breathe.

He stared. "What is this? "

"What's what?" I twisted my wrist in his grasp to see what he was talking about. "Ryan, that's not even close to yours."

The bruise on my wrist wasn't even deep, or big, or looked like it throbbed like Ryan's. Yet from the way his voice darkened, you would've thought my arm had been sliced open.

He wasn't looking down at me anymore. His eyes were fixed on the door. Smoldering honey. Hardened honey. "Kassie, who did this to you?"

"Ryan…"

"Tell me. Now."

"It doesn't matter." I shook my head. "It's not a big deal. He was just shitty. I'm pissed off that I missed watching your game."

" He did that?"

I had to get him on to another topic. "Give me the goods, did they film the punch?"

"You're trying to make me feel better." He shook his head, still taut. "And you're the one that got hurt."

"It's a tiny bruise, Ryan."

"I'm going to fucking kill him," he growled.

Pulling away from him was an awful necessity but it needed to be done. I shifted back to look up at him. "No, the fuck you won't. You're team captain. You're going pro. You're not doing any stupid shit, especially because of me."

"He hurt you," Ryan said, eyes blazing.

"And? People are going to hurt people. It happens."

"That can't happen to you ."

"You can't protect me from everything, Ryan," I told him flatly.

His reply was swift. "Yes, I can."

I was two seconds away from breaking it down to him, how precarious his position was, and how, above everything else, he couldn't do something as dumb as going after a man who honestly wasn't worth the effort, but I didn't get the chance.

Ryan's hand slipped to the back of my neck, drawing a shiver out of me before I even realized what was happening. Those dark honey eyes of his trailed over my face for a long moment. His breathing slowed. Same as mine. It was the only sound in the room. The only one beyond the blood pounding in my ears.

All of the angry, spitting fire in me died down to embers until I was just a girl, sitting next to a boy, all alone on a couch.

He dipped down, just inches away from me, hesitant. His fingers tightened on the back of my neck and he leaned down even farther, brushing his lips against mine.

All of my defenses folded.

They packed house, not even lingering behind. I closed my eyes, washed away by the electricity between us, the tension that acted like live wires beneath my skin, and kissed him too.

He made a low noise at the back of his throat and I was in heaven.

The next kiss was harder. More insistent. His fingers didn't knot in my hair, he fisted my hair. He tilted my head to the side, deepening the kiss, taking me to this spine-tingling place I'd never been before until I could barely breathe. Even then, he didn't stop kissing me.

It was a wild, raw side of Ryan I'd never seen before. He could be so damn demanding but I'd never experienced it like this . Ryan didn't ask for another kiss, he took it, and pushed for more, yanking me close.

God, just keep kissing me .

All at once, he was there, in every corner of my vision and my senses, taking everything he could from me, and then he was gone, breaking away to retreat to the other side of the couch.

I panted. It was the only thing I could do.

His dark eyes were on me. I could see him trying to build himself back together, trying to put us right where we'd been ten minutes ago. He ran a hand through his hair. "Kassie, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—I shouldn't have done that."

How the fuck do I agree with that?

I struggled to regain my composure too. What was I supposed to say? How could I salvage this?

"You were crying. I should've asked," he finished.

Did he just…?

I glanced over at him, shocked. My words were blurted out, messy as could be. "Zariah asked if you—you wanted to sleep with me—"

" What? " Ryan gazed at me, dumbfounded. "Zariah did what?"

"She asked you if you wanted to sleep with me and you—you said no."

"Kassandra Ragar, why the fuck would I say no? "

"The—the contract?"

"Fuck the contract," he snapped.