Page 20 of Roughing the Player
Damn it. When am I going to learn? Ellie doesn’t want to hear about my sexual conquests, even if they’re in the past. Right here, right now, she’s the only one who matters. Once again, I stride toward her. To my surprise, she doesn’t skitter away. Encouraged, I gently wrap my hand around her upper arm, loosely enough she can break contact if she wants. “You were the only one who meant anything to me.”
“Yeah, right,” she scoffs. But her gaze projects something else—hope, excitement. Hunger. Ellie Adams wants me.
All I have to do is not screw up. I brush my thumb across her velvety skin. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For being such an idiot.”
She fights to hold back a smile, but the grin wins out. “Honesty at last.”
I’m on a roll, so I decide to push my luck. “And I’m sorry I didn’t use a condom that night.” The one true regret I have when it comes to her. “But at least, I didn’t knock you up. Can you imagine what a disaster that would have been?”
Her gaze turns hard and angry. She wrenches away from me and slams the champagne flute on the nearest table. “I have to go.”
A second ago, she was ready to fall into my arms. What the hell went wrong? “Do you have to?”
“I don’t like to be on the road after midnight. It’s almost that time now.” She clamps her arms around her middle, as if she’s trying to hold in some pain.
Whatever it is, I caused it. “Ellie, I’m sorry if I—”
“Stop apologizing!” Her eyes flash with anger.
“Okay.” Clearly, she doesn’t want to hear any regrets from me. And apparently, the last thing she wants is one more second in my company. But I can’t let her walk out the door by herself. “Let me escort you to your car.”
“No!” She screams. “Sorry. I prefer you don’t.”
Is she crying? Yep, she’s crying. “You’re upset.”
“It’s been a long day, Brock. Thanks for inviting me to the banquet.” She grabs her purse and wrap and, before I know it, she’s gone.
I hurt her. A lot. What did I say that was so wrong?
