Page 78 of Irresistibly Risky

I don’t want to be the scarred, damaged girl anymore. The one who sets up roadblocks and is afraid of any man who speaks to her. I’ve avoided getting my heart broken for so long, and I believe it’s served me well. But maybe it’s time I run toward someone instead of away from them.

Maybe the risk will be worth the fall.

Then again, when I was five, I never would have imagined my father would ruthlessly cheat on my mother right under her nose and then not only blame me for it because I caught him in the act but then abandon me.

Only… that’s not Asher. He’s never been that man.

Still working through my thoughts, I lace up my skates and push myself onto the ice, skating around as I slip my AirPods into my ears and then unlock my phone. I have three missed calls from Asher as well as about a half dozen texts that I didn’t notice. The blaring music in my car must have drowned out the sound.

I come to a stop, pulling up the first message, when movement out of the corner of my eye startles me so badly that I drop my phone onto the ice.

Absently I know it broke. I could hear the crack.

But I can’t remove my gaze from the man walking my way.

22

“Come on, Ash. That’s weak as hell. You can do better.”

I growl out a slew of curses as I pull on the resistance band, working on rebuilding the strength in my arm and shoulder. “I hate you,” I snarl.

“You’ll love me in November.”

“Fuck November. Tell me October.”

“If you want October, I need to see more sweat.”

More sweat? The woman wants more of my sweat? Any more and I’m going to pass out from dehydration. Sara is one of the two sadists I’ve hired to help me rehab, but considering this is my first major injury, I had no clue what I was in for.

“I can’t do it.”

I release the band and fall back on the bench when my shoulder feels like it’s about to give out. My good arm falls over my eyes, and I die just a little. I’m in pain. Like serious fucking pain. It’s also the good kind of pain that you feel when something is healing and you’re working it hard, but still.

“Come on, pussy. My wife lifts more than you do.”

Sara drops herself on my lap and smacks my abs, making me flinch and wince. “I hate you.”

“So you keep saying. Come on, Ash. Sit up. Give me five more reps, and then you can call it quits. Until tomorrow, of course.”

With a toddler-quality pout and moan, I sit up and take the band from her hands.

“I get a drink after this.”

She nods. “Sure. A sports or protein one.”

“Have I mentioned I hate you?”

“Only fifteen times today, which I consider an improvement from last week. Five more. Let’s do it.”

Five more. I can do five more. And then I’m going to fill a bathtub with ice and drop myself into it. And then, after that, I’m going to take the longest shower of my life. And then after that, I’m going to be too tired to do anything other than eat and snuggle with my girl and my baby.

Shit. I hope Wynter isn’t looking for sex tonight because I’m not sure I’ll have any stamina left in me. I told her I’d give it to her sweet after giving it to her so rough this morning, but I’m not sure I can move.

“You’re ruining my sex life,” I tell her.

Sara rolls her eyes. “You’re supposed to be a professional athlete. Man up and give your woman the orgasms I’m positive she deserves for putting up with you. We grow bored if you don’t, though, for the life of me, I can’t imagine why my fairer sex turns to your lesser breed for anything, including sex.”

“I’m not sure how to comment on that.”

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