Page 8 of Imperfect Player

The stern look on his face meets the amused one on mine. Call it a battle of wills, call it stupidity, but I take his bait and I up the ante.

“Little late for that,” I tell him.

The insinuation is enough to have him charging at me, eyes filled with fury, muscles tensing.

“She’s a good person, Ambrose. Don’t fuck with her,” he orders me.

“Relax, asshole. I was just kidding. Nothing happened.”

Nothing will happen.

Entranced with her as I was—her beauty, her laugh, every goddamn piece of her—I did manage to learn one thing during our short time together. The woman is too damn good for the likes of me.

Not that it stops me from thinking about her or wanting her. I’ve certainly spent more than enough time cursing myself for not having acted on it while simultaneously applauding myself for my restraint.

“It better not,” he says, stopping dead in his tracks, hands falling to his sides. “The last thing she needs is another asshole in her life.”

“You referring to yourself or someone else?”

I ask the question out of curiosity, only slightly enjoying the fact that I’m able to get in a small dig at Maddox.

I like the guy and all, don’t get me wrong. Problem is, he knows too much, knows me too much—my past, my history, my issues. He was there front and center when my life took a nosedive. He was also the one that helped me get it back. My life, baseball, all of it. Him and Coach, that is. They were the ones that picked me up off the floor, covered up the shit I did, and got me the help I needed. As much as I hate to admit it, if not for them, I honestly don’t know where I’d be.

Less deserving of Everly and her kind eyes and gorgeous body, that’s for sure. Not that I’m exactly deserving of her now. Sure, I might be sober, but my head is still fucked up and the demons are always in me, threatening to reemerge. She doesn’t deserve that. No one does.

“I’m referring to her ex.”

Her ex, huh?

“Who’s her ex?”

Maddox looks at me and shakes his head. “Do you ever pay attention to anyone but yourself?”

I shrug. “Not really.”

There’s a smug smile on his face, despite the fact he just called the guy an asshole. “Kai.”

“Kai?” I ask, confused. “As in Kai Iona?”

Please say no. Please say no.

“The one and only.”

Fucking hell. Not that I ever thought I actually stood a chance with her, but goddamn, no doubt I don’t now.

Kai Iona is the god of the soccer world. He’s highly respected, a complete gentleman. He works with countless charities. He comes from a good family, strong values. A momma’s boy, if you will.

No way in hell does a woman like her go from a guy like him to one like, well, me. Unlike Kai, I come from a broken home, asshole parents, and the foster care system, and I am not a poster boy for anything. The only thing I have going for me is my charity work, but that’s something I keep on the down-low. It’s not something I advertise. Not the way Kai does, at least.

“What happened?”

There has to be more to the story. I mean, did they just grow apart? Who breaks up with a woman like her? Based on the way Maddox referred to him as an asshole, I’m inferring that he was the one that did the dumping.

Looks like Mr. Perfect does have a fault after all—he’s a real fucking idiot.

“Not my place to tell.”

Either that means that he doesn’t know, or he really has Everly’s back. Either way, I’m okay with it. I shouldn’t be this curious anyway. Can’t be. There’s no point.

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