Page 9 of Tangled Vows

“The fuck is this?” I wrinkled my nose at the frosty green sludge coating my glass. It was only a few shades darker than the fake puke they used in The Exorcist movie and significantly thicker. Shayla released a defeated sigh, but otherwise remained silent. No sassy retorts or scathing remarks. She didn’t even roll her eyes or cross her arms over her chest. It was unnerving seeing her like this, and I wondered what had changed. I hoped I hadn’t gone too far with the teasing and flirting. It was all in good fun. Although, had she granted my request for private cooking lessons, I’d have jumped on the opportunity, even though it was sure to get me into trouble.

Glancing down at the green concoction, I studied the contents with a furrow to my brow. Hesitantly, I brought the cup to my nose for a sniff and was surprised to find it smelled like berries. I still wasn’t brave enough to drink it. I glanced around at my teammates, and they all wore uncertain expressions. No one had taken even a sip.

“Okay, guys, drink up,” Shayla instructed encouragingly, pasting on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Nobody moved.“Oh, come on; it tastes better than it looks,” she prodded. Skeptical murmurs rumbled throughout the room.

“With all due respect, it doesn’t look fit for human consumption,” I declared. She shot me a sharp look before smoothing her features.

There she is.

“It’s just the spinach that makes it this color,” she added placatingly, scanning the room. Still, nobody made a move to take a drink. Someone behind me made a gagging noise, and I suppressed a chuckle. “A little bit of leafy greens never hurt anybody,” she added, coaxing us like unruly kids who wouldn’t eat their vegetables at dinner.

“Then why don’t you try it?” I challenged, thrusting my cup in her direction. She cut her gaze to me, that fire inside her flaring to life. She crossed the short distance between us and reached for my drink. Her fingers brushed mine as she took the cup from my hand, and energy coursed up my arm. She held my gaze as she pressed the cup to her glossy pink lips and tilted it up, taking a generous gulp. I watched as her throat bobbed with a swallow and had to stifle a groan. All I could think about was her swallowing my cock while I coached her through taking me all the way to the base.

When she was done, she licked the remnants off her lips, and my eyes followed the slow, sensual movement. “Mmm,” she said, pressing the cup into my waiting hand. “Nutritiousanddelicious.” The room was silent as I lifted the cup, twisting it until I found the shimmering pink imprint of her lips on the rim. Closing my mouth over the spot where hers had been only seconds ago, I held her gaze just as she’d done mine and took a long draw. Everyone waited to hear the verdict as though the room held their collective breath.

“You’re right. It tastes…” I let my eyes flick down to her lips and linger there for a brief moment before lifting them to herstormy gray gaze again, “sweeterthan I expected.” Her quick intake of breath was barely audible, but I caught it. A triumphant grin curved my lips before I took another drink of my smoothie. It was surprisingly refreshing, and the flavor of the fruit masked the greens.

Clearing her throat, Shayla stepped away and surveyed the crowd as the other players followed my lead, tentatively sipping their drinks. She prattled on about the ingredients and their benefits, but I couldn’t focus on what she was saying. All I could think about was the slight hint of vanilla I detected on the rim of my glass. It was all too familiar. Flashes of that night played in my head as I remembered the taste of her kiss and vanilla flavored lip gloss. I wouldn’t forget it for as long as I lived. I wanted more of it. It was the drug I craved, but I was sure if I got another hit, I’d never be able to stop.

“Didyou find the Godzilla wall art I wanted for my bedroom?” my nephew, Max, asked as he appeared next to my sister on the screen. We were video chatting about their upcoming visit, and he’d put in a few requests regarding the decor for his bedroom. Honestly, he could’ve asked for anything, and I would have granted his wish.

“I did,” I assured him, smiling as his face lit up with excitement.

“The one where he’s fighting King Ghidorah?”

“That’s the one. It’s already been shipped and should arrive next week.”

“Yes!” He clenched his fist and pumped his arms before doing a victory leap. I chuckled at his enthusiasm as my sister dodged the excited flailing of his gangly limbs. He was seven-years-old and obsessed with the titans from the Godzilla movies. He’d seen them all, even the original Japanese version. We had a Godzilla themed Monopoly set we played every time he visited. I was always amazed that one game could hold his attention for so long, but when he was as singularly focused as he got while playing, nothing could stop him.

“Can you take me to the rink and help me practice my backhand?”

“Of course,” I promised. I loved that my nephew was finally taking an interest in hockey. He only recently started showing an interest in sports since my sister switched him to a school that actually encouraged him to play. Being on the spectrum, he was frequently excluded from participating in extracurricular activities at his previous school. When the district continually failed to follow his IEP, Roni made the decision to pull him out, and we found a private school with glowing reviews that wouldn’t let him slip through the cracks, and I was glad she made the move.

I’d never been more thankful for my fame and success. It gave me the means to provide for my family. Although Roni insisted that I already paid her enough to be my publicist that she could afford the tuition, I insisted on covering the cost. My nephew meant the world to me, and I’d spare no expense to ensure he got a top-notch education. Just like I’d made sure my baby sister did.

She’d been nineteen when she got pregnant with Max. The dad peaced out the moment he realized he'd knocked her up. She would never tell me who the father was, but I suspected it was someone I knew. If I ever found out who it was who’d broke her heart and left her to be a single mom, I’d make sure he never impregnated anyone again.

“Have you thought any more about what we discussed?” Roni asked, and I groaned. Last we spoke, she had this crazy idea thatif I was in a serious relationship—real or otherwise—it would be a step in solidifying my reformed playboy image. She was still fielding calls and questions about my departure from the Thunder and felt this would shift the media focus, at least for now.

“The season is about to start. I don’t have time for a relationship, nor do I want one.” A single night of good old fashioned knockin’ boots? That I could commit to. Unbidden, an image of Shayla came to mind. Her standing in my hotel room in nothing but frayed denim shorts and a lacy bra that did little to conceal those luscious tits and perfect rosy pink nipples. The way her chest heaved as she peered up at me with that innocent, stormy gaze. Fuck, I’d wanted her so bad that night. And Roni’s call ruined it. Kind of like she was ruining my mood right now. If she wasn’t my sister, I probably would’ve already fired her.

“It doesn’t need to be real. You wouldn’t have to put that much time and effort into it. Attend a few events together and let the paparazzi take a few photos. Easy peasy.

“No,” I snapped, leaving no room for argument.

Roni huffed. “We have to do something, E,” she said, using my childhood nickname. And she was right. I had a big endorsement on the line, and if the company caught wind of a scandal, they’d drop me without thinking twice.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I know. We’ll figure something out. Just give me some time.” I was still readjusting to small town life after living in the city for so long. I was also still finding my place among my new team. The last thing I needed was to add a new relationship to the mix, even if it was fake.

And then there was Shayla. She was the only woman I’d been able to think about for weeks, and I was pretty sure she still hadn’t forgiven me for that night. It wasn’t like I could explain to her what had me so spooked I kicked her out of my hotel room.Roni had called about yet another reporter sniffing around, looking for a story. And from the sounds of it, they were getting close to discovering the truth.

9

SHAYLA

“The cancer is back.” My mom’s words from the other night bounced around in my head like a ping pong ball. I couldn’t stop replaying them over and over again. I wanted her to take them back, to rewind back to the day before as we talked and laughed over dinner at something her coworker did. Now, she would likely have to quit her job or go on disability while another round of chemo ravaged her body.

A tear leaked unbidden down my cheek, and I swiped it away. I wasn’t sure how I could possibly have anymore tears left to cry. I’d managed to hold it together at work the past few days—though everyone could tell something was off—but I’d spent my evenings crying into my pillow and sobbing in the shower until the water ran cold. I cried for my mom and the pain she would have to endure. Again. I cried for the years she would be cheated out of if she didn’t go into remission again. The doctor’s new plan was aggressive, but would it be enough to save her? Would the surgery and radiation and chemotherapy buy her a few more years? A few months? They seemed hopeful, but there were so many unknowns.

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