Page 92 of Dirty Play

“Please,” Ares stops me, his hand still on my shoulder, “just hear him out. Then you can decide what to do.” He’s towering over me like a dark cloud, but his presence is one of warmth. Despite doing a couple of interviews with him and spending some time together, he’s still an enigma I can’t solve. But he’s real, and that’s enough for me to know there’s a good man behind those icy-blue eyes.

I take a deep breath and scan the rink, searching for Rowan, my heart thumping a warning in my chest. What if this is all just a setup by him, a cruel joke to twist the knife deeper?

Then I see him emerge, cutting through the crowd like he’s striding onto a battlefield. Rowan’s intense gaze locks onto mine, and suddenly, the noise fades, leaving just us in a storm of unresolved feelings. He walks out of the rink and heads straight toward me. I turn, but Ares is gone, already walking down toward the rest of the guys.

“Livia,” Rowan starts, his voice low. There’s relief on his face like he’s just happy to see me. He reaches for me as he approaches, and I take a step back.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice shaky and unsure. The sight of him is too much. But there’s something different about him, like this week was as hard for him as it was for me.

“I’m so sorry, hellcat,” he replies, stepping closer. I take another step back, wrapping my arms around myself. I’ve missed him so much. God, how I’ve missed him. My entire being screams at me to run to him, to wrap my hands around him and let it all out. But I can’t.

“I have nothing to say to you, Rowan,” I say, shaking my head.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Then, please listen,” he says, taking another step forward. There’s no smirk, no cocky bravado, just Rowan. “First, I want to welcome you back.”

“I was fired, Rowan.” I cross my arms, half to protect myself, half in disbelief. “I need to go to Christina. If this is some sick joke—”

“I messed up,” he interrupts, his green eyes boring into mine. “I was a fucking coward. I thought pushing you out would be easier than facing the shit you made me confront. I thought if I made you the bad guy, it would save me from feeling anything.” His voice sharpens, and I can hear the anger he has for himself beneath the words. “But you didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve that.”

“You wanted me gone, Rowan.” My heart hammers against my ribcage, the hurt bubbling to the surface. “You set me up.”

“I did. I had a plan to get rid of you because I didn’t know how to handle you, which has always been the problem with me. I get rid of things I’m afraid of instead of…” He closes his eyes briefly, and when they open again, I see pain in them. “It was twisted, I know. And I’ve been beating myself up for it every waking second. But I’m not here to talk about myself. This is about you, not me.”

I can only stare. Hearing his voice again is like seeing an oasis in the desert. My mind is conflicted, my heart even more so.

“I went to Christina to fight for you,” he says, taking another step toward me. “I showed her what you’ve done for the team, what you’ve done for me, for all of the guys. But I didn’t do it alone.” He turns around, waving over to the guys on the rink, still holding the banners. “Everyone was there for you. They didn’t just back me up. They didn’t just fight for you; we were all ready to raise hell if you weren’t reinstated because we’re a team. A family. And yes, we might have used a few threats, but,” he chuckles, “we did it.”

I suck in a sharp breath, tears pooling in my eyes. I look down at the men scattered across the ice, spotting a few more banners, screaming “LONG LIVE LIVIA” and “TEAM = FAMILY.”

“You…” I falter. “You did all of this for me?” I ask, but my heart aches with uncertainty. “Do you think that fixes things?”

“No,” he says, his voice steady and low, raw with sincerity. “But I’m begging you to see that you’re part of this team now. I never wanted you gone. I can’t even function properly without you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but there’s no team without you. No me without you. In this short time, you’ve completely taken over my life.”

His gaze is fierce and unwavering, and I can feel the vulnerability beneath his rough exterior. The players behind him start cheering, their voices rising, echoing the hope that’s blooming in my chest.

“Come on, Livia! We need you!” one of them calls out, and another adds, “You belong here!”

I take a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed by their support, a warmth I’ve longed for but never truly felt.

“I…” I whisper, fighting back the tears. “I don’t know if I can just pretend this didn’t happen, Rowan.”

Rowan steps even closer, and I can see the depth of his regret. And suddenly, he drops to his knees in front of me. My eyes widen, my arms falling to my sides.

“What are you doing?” I breathe out, trying to process the sight before me: Rowan DiMarco on his knees in front of me.

“You don’t have to pretend. Just give me a chance to show you how I feel. That I’m worth your time. You deserve more than what I’ve given you, and I want to make it right. Give me a chance to make it right.”

In that moment, everything I’ve felt—the hurt, the confusion, the longing—crashes into something powerful and overwhelming. I can’t hold back the tears any longer, and they spill down my cheeks.

“Rowan,” I whisper, crouching down in front of him. He’s towering over me again, even on his knees. His green eyes are glassy, his hands fisted on his thighs.

“I’ll be damned if I let you give up and go back to Wyoming, when this is where you belong. And don’t get me wrong, a life on a farm is a wonderful life. But it’s a wonderful life for the people who dream about it. That’s not what you dream of, baby. Your place is here. You have everything it takes to make it in this world. And even if you never want anything to do with me again, I’ll support you. I swear, I will, even if you won’t have me by your side. Yeah, it’ll kill me,” he admits, his voice thick with raw emotion. And that’s when I see the unshed tears in his eyes. “But I’ll be in the stands, cheering for you, doing everything I can to help you thrive, even from afar. You deserve to chase your dreams, whether it’s as the Panthers’ PR rep or any other team out there. I believe in you, Livia, with every fucking fiber of my being.”

The cheers from the guys grow louder, urging me to come back and forgive him, and I can hardly process it all. I’m overwhelmed but in the best way possible. They want me back. They believe in me. Rowan believes in me. I can’t help the sob that escapes.

I feel his warm hands cupping my face, and the tears come faster. God, I’ve missed his touch so much.

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