“I’m not messing with her if that’s what you think.”
“That’s exactly what I think.”
“Well, that’s not the case. I’m not using her for some agenda. In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. I’m trying to keep whatever the hell it is under wraps. I know the kind of shit that gets put on the internet about me, and I’m not going to let your sister get wrapped up in that.”
“What is it? Between you two, what’s going on?”
“Truthfully? Nothing. We’re friends, but I’m not going to lie to you. I like her. A lot. And if she’d give me a shot, I’d really like to see where it could go.”
Ryan’s brows are creased in confusion, not believing me.
“And I’m not going to ask your permission or some shit like that if that’s what you want.”
“I don’t want Vee wrapped up in your reputation, Zanders. I’m not going to sugarcoat it, I think your whole persona in the media is a fucking joke, and you give a bad name to athletes in this city.”
“You said you weren’t going to sugarcoat it,” I whine with sarcasm.
Rolling his eyes, he continues. “My sister cannot handle the type of attention you get, and I don’t want her name in the tabloids next to yours, do you understand?”
Nodding, I remain silent, allowing him to continue.
“I finally get to have her in my city, and I swear to God if you screw that up...” He shakes his head. “She’s an adult who can make her own choices, but I really don’t fucking like this one.”
Just then, I watch as Stevie’s ex-boyfriend leads her out on the dance floor. She doesn’t seem like she’s too eager to get away, but at the same time, she doesn’t seem entirely stoked to be out there with him either. The usual confident fire that girl wears around me is missing from her face.
“That right there…” I nod towards the dance floor, referring to Stevie and her ex. “You bringing that guy around your sister again? That’s a choice I don’t fucking like.”
“Brett? You don’t even know him.”
“Do you? Because from what your sister has told me about their relationship, I don’t think you know him as well as you assume.”
Ryan keeps his eyes on the dance floor. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m going to let your sister decide what she wants you to know.”
That’s probably more than I should’ve said, but maybe that will give him a bit more pause about bringing that prick around Stevie again.
“Ryan.” He turns my way. “You seem like a good guy, and you clearly love your sister. I want you to know that I respect your concerns, and knowing the reputation I’ve earned, I understand why you’re worried about her.”
His expression softens, dropping the tough-guy act a notch by offering me a half-smile.
“Whatever is going on between her and me is way out of my comfort zone, but I’m going to try my best to keep her name out of the media if she decides to give me a chance.”
“EZ.” The DJ steps up to our table. “Sorry to interrupt, but you wanted to know when it was time for the last song of the night.”
I stand up straight and head towards the dance floor to take over, but before I get too far, I turn back to the point guard. “And Ryan, you forgot to say, ‘If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.’”
A silent laugh rumbles in his chest. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
“Noted.”
I weave through the crowded space, almost every guest occupying the dance floor for the final song on the night. Patting Maddison on the shoulder as he dances with Logan, I slip past him, happy that the space is as packed as it is. Me getting my dance with Stevie shouldn’t ring too many alarms.
My eyes immediately fall on Brett’s hands sitting far too low on Stevie’s waist as I step in, stopping them in their movements.
“Can I cut in?”
Please, why am I even asking? I’m cutting in, regardless if this kid likes it or not.
“We’re in the middle of something.” Brett tries to stand firm, but he’s intimidated as fuck. I can see it in his eyes.
“Brett, I promised Zanders a dance.” Stevie’s voice is soft and kind, but I’d rather her tell him to get lost.
“So, you can go now,” I add.
“Dude, all the tabloids are right about you. You’re a fucking prick.” Brett’s face is covered in disgust.
“Thank you so much for that detailed observation.”
Stevie’s head drops down, her hand slapped over her mouth, trying to cover her giggle.
“Look, I know that you’re trying to use her brother for some kind of in to work in Chicago sports, but do you know who has more ties in this city than Ryan Shay? Me. So, I’ll let you leave this gala in one piece if you go now. Otherwise, I’m known for putting on a show, and I can guarantee you’ll never work in any of the sports networks in this city by the time I'm done with you.”
His eyes dart to Stevie’s, asking her to take back the words for me, but she doesn’t. Instead, she holds his stare, not backing down.
Good girl.
He turns towards her. “Think about the things we talked about. Please?”
Brett leaves with that.
Returning my attention to the stunner in blue, I hold out my hand, asking for our dance.
Lightly laughing, she puts her hand in mine, but it’s not enough. I take her other hand as well and drape them around my neck before sliding my palms down her soft arms, grazing her rib cage, then settling them just above her ass.
I pull her in close, not leaving any space between us as her fingers grip at my neck, playing with the back of my chain. And the DJ really did me a solid by playing a slow song, so I get to have her body pressed up against mine for at least the next three to four minutes.
“What happened to standing up for yourself, Stevie?”
“I suck at it.”
A silent laugh heaves in my chest. Yeah, she does, but she’s trying.
“What did he mean, the things you guys talked about?” Moving Stevie around the dance floor, I keep my lips close to her ear, speaking quietly.
“I wouldn’t say we talked. More like he talked. He doesn’t like you.”
I release a deep, hefty laugh. “Yeah, no shit.”
“And my brother doesn’t like you.” Her tone is soft and cautious, and now I realize where this is going.
“But do you like me?”
Stevie pulls back slightly, her blue-green eyes locked on mine. “I don’t want to.”
I don’t love the words, but fuck, do I love the honesty. And that’s the thing, she’s always honest with me, and I can’t ask for more than that.
“And why’s that, sweetheart?”
“Because you scare me.”
Nodding, I don’t respond with words but keep my hands resting on her lower back as we slightly sway around the dance floor.
“Your reputation scares me,” she whispers, leaning her forehead on my chest.
That one is a punch to my gut, but at the same time, I’m not surprised in the slightest. I brought this on myself when I created this storyline seven years ago. In my defense, I never thought there’d be a woman I wanted in my life, so I didn’t see the harmful effects it could cause later on.