Page 54 of Wicked Knight

We’re at the Maressa, a rooftop restaurant in the heart of Boston.

I haven’t been here before. It’s fancy and a three-Michelin star restaurant but not the kind of place I would have chosen. I’m also vastly underdressed in my long-sleeved T-shirt and black jeans—the result of being dragged into this out-of-the-blue dinner gathering.

The restaurant is all gold trim and crystal chandeliers, the kind of place where the air feels too clean and suffocating. Perfect for my father.

The walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the city skyline, where a million lights blink against the night, mocking me with their freedom.

Freedom I can’t have right now.

The scent of overpriced truffle oil lingers in the air, mixing with my growing anger. Anger towards my father, who sits at the head of the long, polished table, talking proudly about his latest investments and his plans for Raventhorn.

Beside him, my stepmother smiles that saccharine smile of hers, a glass of wine dangling between her manicured fingers. At least she looks happy.

Maybe she can’t see that this dinner is a damn circus and set up for me.

Across from Yuliana is Pat Liebermann—the Patriots’ scout and the bait used to lure me out. Sitting next to him is his niece, Alina—the wild card and the other bait my father is trying to use to attract me.

I took one look at her honey-blonde hair, puckered lips, and nip-tuck body and knew she was here because my father wants to set me up with her.

I should’ve known better than to agree to this.

I should be on my third or fourth round of taking Mackenzie by now. Instead, I’mhere.

Even though leaving made sense, I shouldn’t have left her.

I can’t believe I was almost inside her. I almost, almost made her mine in ways that only exist in my fantasies.

The image of her naked body is still burned into my mind.

Her gorgeous breasts were just like I imagined. Perfectly round and full, with tight dusty-rose nipples that pebbled on my tongue.

Her milky skin was as smooth and as flawless as her, her waist tapering into little curvy hips and long elegant ballerina legs.

And her pussy… that felt like the homerun. I could feast on her for days and never get tired.

Instead of being here, all I want to do is get back to two hours ago when I was feasting on my girl.

Mackenzie can try to resist all she wants, but her body betrayed her.

It spoke to me, telling me everything she was hiding away from me—how badly she liked my touch, how badly she craved everything I was doing to her, how badly she wanted me.

As she gave in and yielded to me, there was nothing my fucked-up mind wouldn’t think of to keep her. It was irritating as hell that meant leaving when my father came by and almost caught us.

My father was clearly on the hunt for me, so he wouldn’t have left me alone if I’d sent him away and turned down the invite to dinner.

Chances are he’d have had his minions watching me. Then, even if Mackenzie and I left the locker room separately, they would have picked up some clue that we were together.

Accepting the dinner invite hopefully threw my father off my scent and safeguarded mysecret affairwith Mackenzie.

Secret affair.So, that’s what this is. That’s what I created. A game of secrets.

Except there was nothing about earlier that felt like a game. The idea of a game suggests playing around. I wasn’tplaying aroundwhen I was with her.

I don’t even think of football as a game. It’s my life. She feels the same, and we’ve barely done anything. Probably because Mackenzie and I have history.

We didn’tjustget together in college like many of our friends. And although she doesn’t know this version of me, she knows the secret parts of me I never show anyone.

My eyes drift to my father as he says something funny that has everyone laughing. I don’t know what the fuck he said, but Pat is laughing his head off. Yuliana is chuckling, so it must have been funny.

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