Page 62 of Tangled Vows

“You’re on birth control, right?” I asked. The last thing we needed was an unexpected pregnancy. I was still working on winning her over, and I didn’t want her to ever feel obligated to stay with me for the sake of a child. Plus, I wasn’t sure I even wanted children.

Although, the possibility of having a baby with Shayla didn’t sound so bad. Quite the opposite, actually. Just imagining her belly growing with my child had my chest tightening and my stomach fluttering with anticipation. It only took a few seconds for those thoughts to race through my mind as she sputtered her response.

“Of-of course I am.” She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, and worry flashed in her eyes. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Okay,” I drew out, waiting for her to elaborate. When she failed to say anything else, I asked, “Whatareyou worried about?”

She glanced away, unable to meet my gaze, and a ball of dread settled in my stomach.

“It’s just … well, you…” she began but couldn’t find the right words. She took a deep breath to settle herself before speaking again. “It’s no secret you’ve been with a lot of women,” she said, wringing her hands nervously, her voice laced with hesitancy. “And I don’t know if you’ve always been safe in the past,” she added with a wince, and the reality of what she was grappling with hit me square in the chest.

“I’m clean,” I assured her. I hoped she knew I’d never put her health at risk, but she needed reassurance, and that was what I’d give her. “We all get tested at the beginning of the season. It’s part of our routine physical.” Her brows pinched, and her gaze narrowed on me.

“But you’ve been with other people since the season started,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. It was something I noticed she did when she felt vulnerable.

Confusion washed over me, and I searched my memory. I had been celibate since the moment I’d met her up until last weekend when we finally had sex. There hadn’t been anyone since Jessica Danvers, my former coach’s wife.

Guilt washed over me at that thought, but I shook it away. After all, that decision brought me here, to Shayla. My wife.

“I haven’t,” I said, hating the doubt that flitted in her gaze.

“Don’t lie to me,” she ground out, and I drew back, surprised.

“I’m not lying. I haven’t slept with anyone since moving here.”

“I saw you with Mariah Stevenson,” she snapped, moving her hands to her hips. Sassy Shayla was back. I could handle her better than vulnerable Shayla.

The name she mentioned didn’t ring a bell. “Who?” I asked, wracking my brain.

“Ugh,” she said, disgusted. “Have there been so many, you can’t even remember their names?”

“I’ve never slept with anyone named Mariah. I can assure you of that.”

“Let me refresh your memory,” she began, her tone full of snark. I wanted to take her over my knee and spank that supple ass until she begged me to fuck her. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, fake tits, and lip filler.” That described half the women I’d slept with since joining the league. I didn’t say that to her, though. She already looked like she was ready to breathe fire. She continued, undeterred as she pinned me to the spot with her stormy gray gaze. “You were leaving the bar with her the night I ran into you with my friends.”

Flashes from that night played across my memory. It took me a moment to pin down who she was talking about. An image of the leggy blonde I almost went home with rose to the surface. Fuck, Shayla thought I’d slept with her that night. But I hadn’t been able to go through with it. I’d put her in the car, paid the driver, and sent her on her way before heading home. Alone.

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

Shayla scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I saw the way she hung all over you. You were leaving the bar with her on a Friday night. I may not have a lot of experience with one-night stands, but I’m pretty sure that’s how a lot of them start.”

I closed the distance between us, getting into her space. Her eyes grew round, and she leaned back against her desk as I loomed over her.

“I. Didn’t. Sleep. With. Her,” I repeated.

“I don’t believe you,” she proclaimed, but her voice wavered.

“I was going to,” I admitted, and her chin wobbled, “but I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Why?” she asked. Finally, I was getting through to her. I just needed to be honest and lay all my cards on the table.

“Because once I saw you, I knew I couldn’t let another woman touch me.” She sucked in a sharp breath at my admission, but I wasn’t done yet. “I’d gone to that bar looking for a distraction. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” I dipped my head until my lips were almost brushing hers. “It was driving me crazy. I wanted you so bad, but I couldn’t have you.” I slid my hand under her skirt and up her thigh, and her eyes fluttered closed at my touch.

“I thought I could make myself forget about you, that I could fuck you out of my system.” I shook my head, wondering how I could’ve been so dumb. “But the moment I laid eyes on you again, that plan went up in flames. I couldn’t stand the thought of being with anyone who wasn’t you.”

She searched my gaze for any signs of deception. I held her stare, hoping she’d see the truth there.

“I didn’t even leave with her. I ordered her a rideshare and paid them to take her home.” Her eyes fell closed, and her shoulders sagged with relief.

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