Page 142 of The Penalty

“Remember?” I huffed. “Yeah. She had her hands all over you. What does she want now?”

“There’s a nonsense gossip article online about me. She wanted a comment.”

“She’s a reporter? After what you just told me you still fucked around with a—” Incredulity slackened my jaw. “What does the article say?”

He showed me the text. I opened the link and was floored by what I saw. The headline blared Can’t Keep Her Hands Off The Keeper: Has England’s Number One Returned to His Old Ways? A photo of Xavier laughing with a blonde woman accompanied the so-called article.

My heart skipped several beats. “I’ll be right back.”

Hopping off his lap, I trotted to the bedroom and grabbed my phone. When I returned, I repositioned myself on his lap and opened the texts I’d received the other night. Taking a deep breath, I showed him the screen. Shock washed across his face.

“Who sent this to you?”

“Jordan.” I glanced at the photo of him and the same blonde. “Who is she?”

Xavier stiffened beneath me. “How did he get your number?”

“I don’t know. He just said he sent the photos and—”

“Photos? There’s more than one?”

Squeezing the phone, I braced myself for what was about to happen. “I got this one the same night.” I showed him the screen. “At first, I thought it was someone from my past trying to stir up trouble but Jordan said he’s experimenting with new technology. Creating fake photos that appear real.”

“I see.” The same measured softness colored his tone but indignation blazed in his eyes. “Change your number. Immediately.”

“No. I already blocked—”

“Change it,” he snapped. “That’s final.”

Frustration surged through me. I’m not one who takes too kindly to being ordered around. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

We stared at one another for a long stretch of uncomfortable beats. Stubbornness seemed to be a vice we both shared.

Xavier backed down first. “Sorry. I’m just trying to keep you out of his reach.”

“I know. But if he found my phone number once, he’ll find it again.” I laced my fingers behind his neck. “Who is the blonde in the picture?”

“Nobody. She walked over to Cade and I at dinner with her friend. You know how Cade is. Never passes up an opportunity to flirt. They sat with us. She hit on me and invited me to her flat.” Shivers rattled my body. Xavier pinned an intense stare on me. “I excused myself and ended up running into Jordan at the bar. You know what happened after that.”

“You’re not glossing over anything?” The question tumbled out with more animosity than I intended.

“I’m not. I would never—” he winced “—I’m not that guy anymore.” Xavier frowned, keeping me locked in his cobalt gaze. “You believe me, right?”

I nodded, my head spinning. I didn’t know what to focus on first. In my heart, I believed what he said about the blonde. His actions years ago didn’t surprise me. I’d seen many young athletes get swept up in the fast lifestyle associated with going pro.

I would never judge him for any of it. I don’t have the right. My track record with instant physical gratification was just as shocking.

The screw tightened in my chest. Exhaustion smothered every muscle in my body.

Part of me wanted to curl up with my boyfriend and fall asleep in his arms. The other part longed for a quiet space to make sense of everything.

“I should go back to the hotel,” I said quietly.

Resignation swept through Xavier. He caressed my thighs for a brief moment before removing his hands. A hard swallow disrupted the strong column of his throat.

“Is there anything I can do to convince you to spend the night?”

Asking that question was more than enough to convince me. I wanted to. I wanted it so much I suffocated in the desire. Crushing sadness squeezed my chest.

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