Page 132 of The Penalty

I winced, hoping she didn’t notice. “It was alright. I stopped by your cottage this afternoon.”

“Nice deflection.”

I lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. “No deflections here.”

“Whatever you say. Have you recovered from yesterday’s loss?”

“For someone who doesn’t actually play competitive sport for a living, you sure do know how to push an athlete’s buttons.”

“What happened to nothing about you being fragile? You’re not going soft on me, are you?”

Normally I loved it when she teased me. Tonight? I couldn’t bear it.

“Didn’t really have the best day, Tori. Sorry.” My voice tightened. “I don’t like losing.”

Concern lined her gloss-covered lips. “Did something else happen? Is it Jordan?”

Masking my reaction to that question wasn’t easy. “No, love.”

“The crazy thing about video calls is I can see your face. Talk to me, Xavier. I know something happened.”

Swallowing the last of my drink didn’t calm the growing storm festering inside me. Her emerald stare always pierced through to my deepest, hidden parts.

But this is what I wanted, right? To tell her all of it. Fall apart in front of her and no one else.

“There’s CCTV footage of me chasing after Jordan.” The words clawed their way out my throat. Victoria’s eyes grew wide. “It’s been dealt with but in order to keep everyone happy, I’ve been benched for this week’s match.”

“Benched? Is this something preemptive? Did the footage get leaked online or sent to a reporter? Is someone using it to blackmail you?”

I could see the no-nonsense, business side to her when she sat up straight and fired off questions without hesitation. I saw the poised Dartmouth graduate, the engaging woman engineered to command respect in the male-dominated sports industry.

“What’s the story going out to the media?”

I wanted to kiss her. My girl is so clever. “Illness. The plan is for me to train until midweek, then go home because I’m not feeling well.” I scowled. “I’ll be locked in my flat until Bennet deems me worthy of seeing the light of day.”

Victoria twisted a strand of hair. The subtle movement sparked intense yearning.

“That doesn’t sound too horrible. Well, I mean, it’s an unpleasant situation but the optics should be okay.” The more she combed her fingers through her hair, the more I wanted to grab a fistful, pull her head back, and ravage her. “Is that the only thing bothering you?”

“Not even close.”

We both startled at my raw honesty.

“I had a shit therapy session earlier. I stormed out.”

“Why?”

The fucking thing in my chest raged. “I had a few…uncomfortable realizations. Dr. Frances wanted me to continue but—” Fuck. I can’t do this.

“But what?” The gentle, reassuring way she asked almost gave me the courage to tell her. Almost.

“Sorry, love. I just…red.”

Neither one of us has called red during a conversation in a long time. Even though Victoria was thousands of miles away, I could feel her overwhelming concern seep through the screen. But there was something else. Her mouth formed a determined line and her eyes darkened with steadfast anger. Noticeable tension lifted her shoulders as her jaw set with purpose.

I was used to the way her body reacted to me when she was aroused. But this? Seeing my sophisticated, intelligent, stunning girlfriend morph into something more feral, more protective? Sexy as fuck.

“Tori,” I grit out. “What are you thinking?”

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