“I haven’t even seen Holly.”
My thoughts drifted to Ace, the only one who had spoken to Holly. Was he feeding her bullshit to tell Whitney, or was she just trying to keep us apart on her own?
“I’ve seen the tabloids,” she hissed.
My heart sank. The picture of Caroline and me. Yes, she had seen it. I wasn’t sure if she would ever forgive me for that one, mainly because I didn’t know how I could make her believe I wasn’t already fucking her when I was quick to throw other woman in my bed once she left.
Of course, how many men had Whitney fucked after she went away? I’d seen her tabloids too.
I shook my head, refusing to let my mind go in that direction. I was willing to take responsibility for everything — everything — if I could just get Whitney to come back.
I decided to be honest and just tell her all that had been going on, details excluded of course. My voice broke several times while I told her how miserable I had been; how much I missed her.
“I never wanted to lose you,” I murmured, “things were just so new and got so out of control so fast.”
I waited for her response. I needed to hear that I hadn’t lost her, not totally.
“Calvin, if I came back there, things would have to change dramatically,” she said.
Hope filled my heart, and for the first time in weeks, I felt alive. She continued to give me instructions on what I needed to do in order for her to give this any real consideration.
No more partying — check.
No more wild women — check.
No more Caroline — fucking check!
“I’ll do anything you want,” I promised.
“I don’t know, Calvin. I’m not saying I’m coming back, only that I’ll give it some thought,” she explained. “It really depends on you now.”
“I love you,” I whispered into the phone, but she’d already hung up. I knew she still loved me; she didn’t have to say it. She might actually give me a chance, and I would do everything in my power to make her not regret it.
I stood up, took a deep breath and then stepped inside. My front door opened. Shit, I hadn’t locked it! I hadn’t bothered to get dressed, so my cock was dangling exhausted between my legs, and there was nothing to grab to cover it from whoever was inviting themselves into my home unannounced.
I covered my junk with my hands and waited to see who was behind the door. Caroline looked as shocked as I did when our eyes locked.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I called out.
She blinked rapidly, then her face turned angry. “I was worried about you, I called three times.”
Yeah, I saw the missed calls.
“Well, you didn’t answer me when I needed you last week,” I snapped.
She gave me a pouty face, her bottom lip jutting out. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered as she pulled me into her arms. I didn’t want her touching me. I wanted her to leave. The only thing on my mind at the moment was Whitney, and getting rid of Caroline was on my immediate to-do list.
“You need to go,” I growled and pulled away from her embrace.
“Calvin, why are you naked?” she asked curiously. Her eyes lingered on my cock as if she was willing it to confess its indiscretions. “Are you not alone?”
“Why the hell do you care?”
Her eyes narrowed, and she turned to stomp up the stairs. I rubbed my hands over my face and followed, not giving a shit anymore. I owed her nothing, and we’d been nothing but fuck buddies after all.
When I got into the room, Caroline was standing at the foot of the bed, her hands on her hips.
“Leave!” I shouted, my tone deadly serious.
The noise woke the girls, and they stirred against one another. Still pretty damn sexy, even now.
To my amazement, Caroline simply turned and looked directly into my eyes. She smiled. Smiled. But it was a look so evil it gave me chills. In the next instant, she started crying and screaming, “Calvin, how could you do this to me? Didn’t I mean anything to you?”
Then she lifted her phone, and I knew.
The camera was on, and it was pointing straight at my dick.
She continued to cry and turned the camera on the girls, then back at me. I lunged, trying to get it, but she scampered around the bed, screaming for help. I froze.
This was bad.
Not just in an I’m-a-grower-not-a-shower or the-world-is-going-to-judge-my-deflated-Johnson way either. She was setting me up, and if I touched her right now, I’d go to jail. And even worse than that, she would sell this video to the tabloids, or at least show it to Whitney.
That smile she gave me was evil. And now I knew why.
Heather was the first to fully realize what was happening and pulled the sheets over her body. The blonde just laid there, her legs open while Caroline videoed with glee.
I lunged again, determined to get the phone, then froze. She’d pulled a damn gun from her bag. The girls screamed, and I backed up a step while I looked down the barrel.
“Don’t,” I said, but she just laughed and began backing away from the room, the camera and gun still pointed at me.
Once she was at the door, she smirked, the lips I’d once thought so beautiful now vile.
“I hate you, Calvin,” she cried for the camera’s sake, then gave me a little wink. Then she was gone, her shoes clicking down the steps, the front door slamming behind her.
I was so fucked.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Calvin
I walked into the locker room feeling like a man broken into many pieces. One part of me was elated that Whitney even talked to me while another feared for the worst. Caroline had a bomb in her hands, and I didn’t know if or when she would drop it. Or how big the explosion would be.
Coach Griffin was writing something on his clipboard when I approached. He looked up; his eyes were cold and tired. It was obvious he’d had a rough run this season, and I knew I was partly to blame.
“What do you need, Malone?” he groaned.
“I want to apologize to you, sir.” I stood tall and straight and looked him directly in the eye. “I know I’ve been a real ass, a real problem for this team more than an asset.” I cleared my throat, swallowing down the emotion that wanted to choke me. “I will no longer treat you, this team, or myself with such disrespect.”
His eyes widened, and his lips curled into a smile. He stood and extended his hand across the desk, then quickly pulled it back. Instead, he walked around the desk, gripped me tightly, and gave me a big squeeze. “I’m so glad to hear you’re back. I’ve missed the old Malone.”
“Me too, sir,” I admitted and fought back the urge to sob. One deep breath, and I was pulled together. I didn’t get why it was so hard for women to calm down.
“Let’s have a great game today,” he said, and I nodded.
“Yes, sir.”