Page 162 of Changing Rules

“Couldn’t wrapping up paperwork for Ben wait?”

She closes her laptop and sets it on the coffee table. “How do you know what I’m doing?”

“We’re leaving for Santa Clara in two weeks, and you told me yourself you have a huge list of things to get done for Ben before we go.”

“You’re awfully chill for someone whose agent has been on his back nonstop.”

“I decided to stop worrying about things I can’t control.”

“Aw, love that attitude.”

I wink at her. “Finish your work and come back to bed. I’ll wait for you here.” I position myself so I’m stretched out on the couch, propped up against one arm, and guide her to sit between my legs. Once she’s settled with her back pressed to my chest, she gets back to work.

I close my eyes, slowly drifting off to the sounds of her typing. That’s always the case with me—once I have her in my arms, all my worries disappear.

“Xander.” She caresses my cheek.

I slowly open my eyes, meeting her gaze. She’s on her feet, hovering over me and smiling from ear to ear.

“Let’s go back to bed.”

“Man, I was out.” With a groan, I stand and massage the back of my neck.

“You were, but this couch really isn’t good for sleeping.” She laces her fingers with mine. “It’s Sunday. We can do anything we want, including sleep.”

“What if I don’t want to sleep anymore?” I arch an eyebrow.

“You were snoring just a minute ago.”

“But now I’m wide awake, and I don’t have any intention of going back to sleep.” I pull her against me and slip my hands under her tee.

One week later

“Fuck, it was brutal.”I slump down onto the couch in the living room and pull a pillow over my face.

Two weeks ago, I was sure the day the prosecutor called Bella to talk about a plea deal was the worst day of my life.

Our fears became a reality when Miller’s lawyers tried to turn the tables and pin the blame on Bella, painting her as a cheater who ruined their client’s life. Like we expected, their hope was that the court would agree that Miller was mentally unstable and should receive treatment rather than serve time. But they didn’t know about the ace up the prosecutor’s sleeve: Stacey. Once Miller discovered she planned to take the stand, he admitted defeat.

In the end, he changed his plea to guilty and admitted to the crime, which gave him a little leniency. He’ll serve eleven years, though I’d much prefer it if he rotted in hell.

I thought I was done with bad news; I was wrong.

“What happened?” Bella asks, straddling my hips.

Here I was, sure that things were falling into place. The Mustangs are interested. Coach and Warriors management know I’m leaving for Santa Clara, and they haven’t tried to make me stay. They respect my decision. The guys, on the other hand…

“I never thought telling the team I’m quitting would be so fucking hard. When I was leaving Kansas, it was nothing like that.”

“I’m so sorry. How did it go?”

“Drew and Marco knew, so they were supportive, and that kind of made it easier for some of the other guys to accept it, but…some of them think I’m a traitor.”

“So sorry, baby.”

I sigh. “That’s okay. Coach was there too, and he said to everyone that if he was in my shoes, he would’ve done the same for his wife—even though he also called me a motherfucker who ruined his perfect team.”

She chuckles. “Didn’t expect anything less.”

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