I stand up straight and head towards the dance floor to take over, but before I get too far, I turn back to the point guard. “And Ryan, you forgot to say, ‘If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.’”
A silent laugh rumbles in his chest. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
“Noted.”
I weave through the crowded space, almost every guest occupying the dance floor for the final song on the night. Patting Maddison on the shoulder as he dances with Logan, I slip past him, happy that the space is as packed as it is. Me getting my dance with Stevie shouldn’t ring too many alarms.
My eyes immediately fall on Brett’s hands sitting far too low on Stevie’s waist as I step in, stopping them in their movements.
“Can I cut in?”
Please, why am I even asking? I’m cutting in, regardless if this kid likes it or not.
“We’re in the middle of something.” Brett tries to stand firm, but he’s intimidated as fuck. I can see it in his eyes.
“Brett, I promised Zanders a dance.” Stevie’s voice is soft and kind, but I’d rather her tell him to get lost.
“So, you can go now,” I add.
“Dude, all the tabloids are right about you. You’re a fucking prick.” Brett’s face is covered in disgust.
“Thank you so much for that detailed observation.”
Stevie’s head drops down, her hand slapped over her mouth, trying to cover her giggle.
“Look, I know that you’re trying to use her brother for some kind of in to work in Chicago sports, but do you know who has more ties in this city than Ryan Shay? Me. So, I’ll let you leave this gala in one piece if you go now. Otherwise, I’m known for putting on a show, and I can guarantee you’ll never work in any of the sports networks in this city by the time I'm done with you.”
His eyes dart to Stevie’s, asking her to take back the words for me, but she doesn’t. Instead, she holds his stare, not backing down.
Good girl.
He turns towards her. “Think about the things we talked about. Please?”
Brett leaves with that.
Returning my attention to the stunner in blue, I hold out my hand, asking for our dance.
Lightly laughing, she puts her hand in mine, but it’s not enough. I take her other hand as well and drape them around my neck before sliding my palms down her soft arms, grazing her rib cage, then settling them just above her ass.
I pull her in close, not leaving any space between us as her fingers grip at my neck, playing with the back of my chain. And the DJ really did me a solid by playing a slow song, so I get to have her body pressed up against mine for at least the next three to four minutes.
“What happened to standing up for yourself, Stevie?”
“I suck at it.”
A silent laugh heaves in my chest. Yeah, she does, but she’s trying.
“What did he mean, the things you guys talked about?” Moving Stevie around the dance floor, I keep my lips close to her ear, speaking quietly.
“I wouldn’t say we talked. More like he talked. He doesn’t like you.”
I release a deep, hefty laugh. “Yeah, no shit.”
“And my brother doesn’t like you.” Her tone is soft and cautious, and now I realize where this is going.
“But do you like me?”
Stevie pulls back slightly, her blue-green eyes locked on mine. “I don’t want to.”
I don’t love the words, but fuck, do I love the honesty. And that’s the thing, she’s always honest with me, and I can’t ask for more than that.
“And why’s that, sweetheart?”
“Because you scare me.”
Nodding, I don’t respond with words but keep my hands resting on her lower back as we slightly sway around the dance floor.
“Your reputation scares me,” she whispers, leaning her forehead on my chest.
That one is a punch to my gut, but at the same time, I’m not surprised in the slightest. I brought this on myself when I created this storyline seven years ago. In my defense, I never thought there’d be a woman I wanted in my life, so I didn’t see the harmful effects it could cause later on.
“I’m sorry for saying that,” she squeaks out, hiding further into my chest.
Stroking the hair away from her face, I lean my lips right there on her temple.
“Don’t be sorry, Vee. I get it.”
I swallow hard but fuck. This hurts more than I expected.
“All I’m asking for is a chance,” I add in a hushed voice. “To prove to you that I’m not the person everyone thinks I am. That what you see in the media isn’t true. That the guy you saw tonight, the same one you saw wearing a fucking dress on Halloween, and the same one you talked to on Christmas—that’s me, Stevie.”