Page 7 of Point of Contention
She searched my gaze and I prayed she’d believe me. I would never blindside her like this. Never. Not on purpose, though my lapse in judgment had been not expecting the men in my life to do something so underhanded. She licked her lips and tugged the bottom one between her teeth.
“Rylan,” I reached up to cup her face, tugging her lip free with my thumb. “I would never have sprung this on you.”
She nodded.
“I need you to tell me you believe me.”Please.
She nodded again, then met my gaze. “I believe you.”
My relief was short-lived.
She pulled free of my arms and slid back onto the seat, and as she opened the car door and climbed out, that fissure returned, and with it, the realization that I’d damaged this woman’s trust in me.
I’d failed to protect her, failed to prepare her for what might happen if my father and Winston Rombauer took control of the narrative, and nothing destroyed a relationship—both in the club and out—like broken trust.
Chapter Three
Rylan
As soon as the car door closed behind me, the front door opened and Greer charged down the steps. “Oh my god, Rylan!” She ran toward me and pulled me into her arms. “I’ve been calling you nonstop.”
I nodded and let her hold me, waiting for the car to drive away so I could breathe again, even though somewhere deep inside I knew I’d never breathe as well away from him as I did in his arms. One month with Cabot Reed had altered my lungs.
My entire world.
And therein lay the biggest problem of all:
I’d let a man change me.
Greer pulled back and searched my eyes, then her gaze flicked around my face. “You look like shit.” I gave a sad little laugh and she grimaced. “Smell like it too.”
I closed my eyes as my cheeks heated. “Sorry,” I whispered. “I need to brush my teeth.”
“You got sick?”
I nodded.
Her eyes narrowed and she dropped her hands to her hips, focusing on the town car still parked at the curb. “Engaged, huh? Is it true?” she asked without looking at me.
I barked out a sharp laugh. “You know better, G.”
Greer gave a curt nod, then sidestepped me, those gold-flecked brown eyes lit up with fire as she charged toward Cabot’s car.
“Greer—”
She flung the door open and bent at the waist to peer inside. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but keep her out of it,” she sneered, then raised her finger and pointed it at him. “Don’t fucking call her again.”
I winced at the anger in her voice, struggling with the need to turn on my heels and run to him.
Don’t listen to her, I wanted to tell him.
He’s my boss, I wanted to yell.
But again, I couldn’t make my feet move. Couldn’t make the words come.
Turmoil churned in my chest. I loved him, I did. I didn’t want him to never call me again… I just needed some time to think.
Everything had happened so fast—
