Page 12 of Power Play

“I owe you money,” I said. “I don’t owe you anything else.”

Liam looked like he wanted to argue but I was saved by the return of the blonde.

She was still wearing all the same clothes. But now she carried a giant watering can and a leather duffle bag.

I wondered what kind of kinky shit they did with the watering can and then hated myself for it.

“Liam, is it okay if I borrow this?” she said, lifting the small duffle. It was Louis Vuitton. “I’m going on a trip next week and I don’t have any luggage.”

“No problem, honey,” he said.

“I’ll shout about next month.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll talk to you later. Oh, and good luck tomorrow.”

“Yep. Bye,” he said.

She wiggled her fingers at him and walked out of the living room. Perfect hair and perfect ass swaying.

Sweat slipped between my butt cheeks.

“You don’t remember her name,” I said when she was gone.

“Of course I do,” Liam said.

“There’s no way-”

“Lexi,” he said. “She takes care of my plants. Comes in once a month and makes sure I don’t kill them. Tries to get me to sing to them.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked.

Of course, I did. Because that was the kind of shit Liam Locke was known for.

There had been a scandal during his rookie year. A claim made by a woman that he’d fathered her child. Nothing new in the world of professional athletes, but Liam had been upset enough by the accusations that he’d made the results of the DNA test public.

It had also been reported, very quietly, but public enough, that he’d helped the woman who’d made the claim get some mental health treatment. He’d also set her up with an apartment and a job to help her raise the baby in a safe environment.

That was the first story like that about Liam, but it wasn’t the last. Time and time again women and men, people he’d only known casually, had come out to say how much Liam had helped them get back on their feet.

He probably went on three dates with Lexi, casually fucked her in a hotel suite. Then found out after the fact that she was hurting for money, so he made up the job of plant waterer.

“You’re just going to let her take that bag? You know you won’t get it back.”

He shrugged. “It’s just a bag.”

“She might have stuffed it full of your shit.”

“Mike checks her at the door, makes sure she’s not taking anything important.”

“Oh, so she can steal from you and it’s fine-“

The second I said it, I regretted it. I knew exactly the leap he would make.

“You did more than steal from me,” he said, that cool guy grin of his vanishing. He was hard and mean and hurt, all over again. “Didn’t you?”

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