Page 77 of Broken Player

The rope swung back toward me, and I caught it easily, pulling it back and following her into the water. As I crashed into the cool liquid, I let myself sink for a couple of seconds before breaching the surface with a huge fucking smile on my face. Nobody could make me smile like Ryan could.

She swam up to me, looking like fucking joy and warmth and wonder in the most gorgeous package I'd ever seen. She wrapped herself around me as I swam in place, and her eyes were practically glowing with happiness. "Thank you," she whispered, pressing her lips to mine before pushing away and splashing water at my face.

I laughed as she swam away, calling out over her shoulder, "Race you back to the swing!"

And I couldn't help but follow.

We spenta couple of hours playing and swimming at the pond, and by some goddamn miracle, I kept my dick out of my girlfriend. But it wasn't easy. And now that the sun had set, the stars were twinkling in the sky, I'd reached my limit. With my arms wrapped around Ryan, she leaned against my chest, contented sighs escaping her lips every few minutes as we rode home on Hex.

Fireflies danced around us as my stallion strolled across the open fields, the wide-open sky sparkling with stars. Before we started the ride home, I ordered a pizza. I'd never had a relaxing night at home with a girl except for Ryan, but they were quickly becoming my favorite way to spend an evening.

Stopping at the barn to take care of Hex, I put everything away, gave him a quick brush, and grabbed Ryan's hand. We walked to the house together, and just as we stepped inside, the doorbell rang.

"Who's that?" she asked curiously, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Pizza." I moved toward the door. "Why don't you find a movie or something, and I'll grab dinner?"

She nodded, flopping down onto the giant-ass sectional that took up most of the space in this room. It was perfect for lounging around. My place in LA was professionally decorated, but this place was comfortable. Relaxing. Something I never thought I'd say about the fucking hellhole I grew up in. But I'd officially taken it back.

And Ryan made this house feel like a home. Having her here was everything I always denied I wanted. But I did want it. So fucking bad.

Tearing my eyes off of her, I turned toward the door, swinging it open. Before I could take in who was standing there, a bright light flashed in my face. I threw up my hand instinctively to block it and tried to blink away the spots now dancing in my eyes. "What the fuck?" I snapped.

"Pizza delivery," the guy's bored tone announced, and I only knew it was a fucking guy because of his voice. I still couldn't see a goddamn thing.

I reached out, groping for the cardboard box and snatching it from his hands as he came into focus. He was most definitelynota pizza delivery guy. He didn't wear any sort of uniform, and he had more than one camera slung around his neck. Fucking press.

A thought tickled at the back of my brain, but I couldn't grasp it and deal with the questions the "delivery guy" was now hurling my way at the same time.

"Get the fuck off of my property, and if you come back, I'll have the police deal with you," I threatened before slamming the door closed right in his face. I was breathing hard, and the pizza box in my hand was shaking with my rage.

"Hey, Romeo. You okay over there?" Ryan's soft voice carried across the room, concern laced with curiosity.

Taking a deep breath, I shook off the unsettling feeling creeping up my spine. A photographer showing up on my doorstep hadn't been an accident. It was fucking Yates. It had to be. Reporters were like goddamn cockroaches. Where there was one, there were a shit ton more hiding in dark crevices waiting to pop out. It was only a matter of time before they had this place swarmed, and my carefree escape became nothing more than another fucking prison.

My desire to shatter Yates's life just increased tenfold. He was fucking with my girl, my career, and it was only a matter of time before he really came after me.

This shit needed to end. Now.

Despite holding Ryan in my arms all night, I barely got any sleep. That fucking reporter had me on edge. In LA, I had security set up for that sort of shit. But here? Here we were basically sitting ducks. There was nothing to keep the hordes at bay, and it was only a matter of time before they swarmed us.

And I had no doubt who made the call letting them know where I was. Of all the guys in the band, I had to be the most careful with the media. I was a wreck for a lot of my career, which to them, meant a great story. So, they followed me around the most relentlessly trying to get any hint of a potential fuck up.

But I wasn’t ready to share this part of my life with the world. Them finding my childhood home meant digging into my past, and there was plenty of shit buried deep, deep down that I didn’t want anyone finding out about.

Staring down at the beautiful woman still asleep in my bed, her head resting on my chest and her dark, wild curls scattered across the sheets, I watched her sleep. Soft breaths left her lips in a steady rhythm, every worry erased momentarily off of her face, so she looked peaceful and relaxed.

As much as I wanted to lay here all day, I couldn’t. I was restless as fuck, and I wouldn’t wait around for whatever was going to happen next. Fuck that. I needed to take control of this situation, and then I needed to get Ryan, Quinn, and I the fuck out of Texas.

Gently moving my body out from under Ryan, I slid slowly across the sheets to be sure I wasn’t going to wake her up. She hadn’t been sleeping well, and I didn’t want to interrupt what must’ve been a completely exhausted rest.

Finally, I froze, standing perfectly still beside the bed, watching to see if she was going to wake. When she didn’t, I turned and grabbed some black joggers, pulling them up before stepping out of the room in search of coffee and my phone. It was still early, but Ryan was, for sure, going to be late to help Quinn this morning.

I left my phone on the ottoman last night, but before I bent to grab it, a flash of light caught my eye. I moved toward the big window in the living room, brushing the curtains back to look out through a tiny slit.

Fuck.

At least a dozen photographers were crowding around my short driveway, and I cursed Russell for building this place so goddamn close to the road. I could keep them off of my property with one call to the local Sheriff, but I couldn’t do shit about them camping on the public highway that ran right in front of my house.

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