Page 28 of Never You

I wait in anticipation while I watch her tone it down a little. “But if you must know, it was a gift.”

“A gift? You got an eighty-thousand-dollar car as a gift?” I can’t hide the disbelief in my tone since gifts like that are only given by family members or rich sugar daddies. My stomach turns as something clicks in my head, reminding me of how she was doing shots with Robert Davis the other night, and I stretch my neck up high, blinking in confusion as a wave of jealousy is thrown over my body in bucketloads.

“Oh my God, Rae. Are you fucking Davis?” I screech as bile forms in my throat, disgusted just thinking about it.

“What?! No! What the fuck? Gross, you moron!” she cries, giving me an incredulous look before putting her focus back on the road.

I push out a sharp breath, feeling somewhat relieved at her words, before I relax back into my seat. I stare at her, still wide-eyed and waiting for her explanation. It might not be my business, but the racing of my heart disagrees, wanting to get all the details to change the vile image in my head.

“I got it from Johnny.”

“What now?” I snap, my eyes bulging out of my head this time. “You were fucking Johnny? Right, like that’s so much better! The guy is like fifteen years older than you!” My voice is deep and angry, roaring at her with a possessiveness that surprises me.

She slaps my arm, matching my foul mood. “No, you disgusting son of a bitch. Johnny is my uncle,” she chides. “And he’sseventeenyears older.”

Uncle?

Before I can process what she’s saying, she connects her hand with my body again, this time with her fist against my shoulder.

“Ouch!”

“Besides, how dare you suggest I’m a fucking gold digger. I’m not like your littleindiscretionsor your supermodel girlfriend. Talk to me like that again and I will be aiming for your eyes. With myfists.” The look on her face tells me she means businessas she holds her finger up in the air, reprimanding me like I’m a little schoolboy while a strand of her blonde hair flips wildly in front of her eyes. I ball my hand into a fist to resist the urge to push it behind her ear, suppressing the smirk that is dying to stretch my face.

Fuck, she’s sexy.

When I raise my hands in surrender, she turns her focus back to the road. With her hands back on the wheel, I inhale deeply, thinking about what she just said.

“Johnny Pearce is your uncle?” I rub my arm, feeling the sting of her fist connecting with it, a little in awe because of the strength she hit me with.

The girl throws a meaner punch than expected. Like she’s a fucking warrior princess.

“Yes, Johnny Pearce is my uncle,” she repeats, her voice filled with annoyance.

“How come I never knew this?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she mocks,“maybebecause every conversation we’ve had for the last five years was revolved around your littleskanks. Forgive me if I don’t feel the need to tell you about my family tree when I’m doing my best to keep your reputation at a high level. Oh, or maybe it’s because it’s none of your goddamn business.” The corner of her mouth lifts in a sarcastic smile before it’s replaced by a scowl. “It’s no one's business.”

“So, it’s a secret?”

“Not a secret. Just something I don’t share unless I have to.” Her voice grows soft, the fire now missing as she speaks. “It’s hard to be taken seriously when your uncle is the big boss of the team. I couldn’t have that.”

“Does Kent know?” Bodi asks from the back.

She sighs at the mention of his name, her expression tensing within a second.

As much as I always thought I annoyed the shit out of her, it is nothing compared to the frustration that washes over her face just by Bodi mentioning his name. I tilt my head to see her face a little better, because there is something else I see there that I’m not liking one bit.

Hurt.

Sean Kent really hurt her, making me hate him even more.

Being teammates, you can’t get along with everyone in the team. Kent and I serve a common cause. A goal. Bringing the team to victory and winning the Stanley Cup every single fucking season.

On the ice? That is exactly what we are made to do, and we work like a well-oiled machine. But as soon as the skates come off, the guy irritates the shit out of me. I’ve come close to punching him in the face more than once. The noticeable hurt in Rae’s eyes brings that feeling rushing through me.

“Yeah, he knows.” I can hear the disappointment in her voice. “He was jealous of Johnny and I being so close, so eventually I had to tell him. Ironic, huh? He got jealous of his boss, even though he was the one fucking around like a stray dog.”

“I’m sorry,” I offer, and I mean it. I’m an asshole, dancing the line of flirting on a daily basis, but I don’t condone cheating.

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