Page 84 of Dirty Pucking Player

He reaches out and grabs my shoulders, then leans down until his face is level with mine, making me meet his eyes. Resolve lies in them. “This will never work, Greer. It was incredible, but it was doomed the moment we developed any sort of feelings for each other.”

Feelings. Goddamn fucking feelings.

It never would have happened if I hadn’t been so weak. So needy. So many of the things I’ve vowed my entire life not to be. This happened because of my failure. I got myself here.

He presses a lingering kiss to my forehead, and I take one final breath of his scent before he pulls away and walks toward the door.

I force myself to turn to get one last glimpse of him like this, when we can still acknowledge the truth, before we have to pretend none of it ever happened.

That’s the future for us. Denial and lies.

It should have been obvious.

I always knew it would end with Bash. I just never expected this end.

He pauses at the door and looks back at me. His sad gaze meets mine. “I really am sorry, Coach.”

The door closes with a loud click, and I drop to the floor and finally allow myself to fall apart.

When did I start loving Bash Fury?

And how do I make it stop?

22

BASH

The shrill ring of my phone fills the inside of my car. I glance at the display, and a smile spreads across my face even though my mood is complete shit. It’s hard to be happy after what Greer and I said to each other and when the team has been playing like utter crap.

But things will turn around—at least where the team is concerned. I have to believe that. And Rach is probably calling to wish me good luck tonight.

“Hey, Rach, how’s it going?”

“Bash?” Her voice wavers in a way that sends a chill down my spine.

Rach isn’t a drama queen and doesn’t overreact. The last time I heard this kind of panic in her voice was when Mom was diagnosed with cancer.

“What’s wrong?”

She sniffles. “I hate to tell you this…I know you have a game tonight.”

“Rachel, what’s wrong?” I tighten my hands around the steering wheel as I wait for her to drop whatever bad news is undoubtedly coming. “Just tell me.”

“It’s Dad. He had another stroke.”

Fuck.

That’s number three in the last five years. The first two were minor and didn’t kill the old bastard, though. They just made him angrier, more demanding, and even more difficult to deal with. Something I never thought possible.

It’s been so long since he’s been in my life in any way that I’ve managed to avoid having to see him, but Rach can’t seem to break away from the man even after all he’s done to all of us. Her kind heart sees an old man who needs help and family, not the violent drunk he used to be.

Still, I should act like I care. “Is he alive?”

Rach releases a deep sigh. “Yes. But they’re worried about him having another one. It doesn’t look good, Bash.”

“Shit.” It’s not that I really care if the asshole dies, but it will devastate Rach to lose her only surviving parent, and that alone tugs at my destroyed heart.

“I’m flying back to Michigan tonight.”

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