He’d failed, and because of his failure, Jada had been hurt.
Fucking unacceptable.
Fury rampaged through his veins as Jada recounted her encounter with Lila, the TV producer who’d decided to moonlight as a blackmailer. He was absolutely livid with Lila. How fucking dare she?
He channeled his emotions—his desire to win, his desire to be there for his teammates and coaches, his desire to make his family proud—into his play on the field to bring the destruction and chaos the game called for. Off the field, he reined in his emotions to make sure his life followed the path he had laid out. Now that was being threatened, and he didn’t know how to stop it. “I can’t believe this. This is utter bullshit. She thinks she can come here and upend our lives unless we give in to her demands. Even if we do, something tells me she won’t stop there.
“She wants to destroy our lives. Who does that? Why would someone do that?” His breathing was coming fast and furious. His fingernails dug into his palms as he fought back the urge to smash something.
His world was spinning out of control, his emotions getting the best of him. He didn’t know what to do or how to slow his whirring brain to come up with a solution. What the hell was he going to do about this? “What the fuck is her problem?”
“I’m sorry,” Jada said in a small voice.
Donovan came to a halt, then whirled. His heart plummeted to his feet.
Where had the bold and brave Jada gone? She was slumped in a chair. Her eyes were downcast, her shoulders hunched in like she was trying to protect herself from something. From someone? From him? He took two long strides toward her and leaned down to cup her shoulders. He’d been a selfish prick, only thinking about how this affected him. She was the one really suffering. “Baby, what are you sorry for?”
“For putting you in this position.” Her voice came out small and timid.
“You didn’t put me in this position. Lila did.”
She raked a hand through her hair. “But it wouldn’t have gotten to this point if I hadn’t lied about having someone at home.”
Donovan shook his head. “They were hammering you on why you turned down John’s proposal and wouldn’t stop until you gave them a satisfactory answer. And don’t you dare say you shouldn’t have turned down that jackass’s proposal, given the stunt he pulled.”
She rubbed her face with a shaking hand. “I know, I know, but then I compounded the lie with another lie about you being my boyfriend.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “A lie I went along with, by the way.”
Jada was already shaking her head before he finished speaking. “It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t care that we’re a real couple now. She probably wouldn’t believe us even if we told her. I wish I could disappear. Make all this go away. I’m so sorry I put you in this position. Everything I touch turns to trash.”
He pulled her out of her chair and into a hug he needed just as much as she did. He sighed as her soft body contoured to his. They were a perfect fit. Always would be if he had anything to say about it. “Hey, we’re in this together. I refuse to let you shoulder all the blame. Look at what you’ve accomplished. In case you didn’t notice, the shop wasn’t doing that great until you came along and insulted me and the shop, and then bullied me until you got your way to make improvements.”
A very welcome bubble of laughter spilled out of her. “I did not bully you. I just made a few suggestions.” She stepped back and looked up at him. Tears pooled in her beautiful eyes. “Thank you for being so nice. I don’t deserve it.”
He knew where this was coming from. Her parents making her feel like her accomplishments were never enough. That she was never enough. “Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her behind him into his bedroom. He stopped when he reached the back wall and tugged her in front of him to stand in front of the mirror. “Affirmation time.”
She looked at him askance in the mirror. “Affirmation time? Now?”
“Yes, now. Let’s go. You’re the one that said they helped you.”
“You’re not supposed to listen to what I say!”
He shot her a look. “Jada. Stop procrastinating.”
“Fine. Bully.” She squared her shoulders and stared at her reflection. “Oh, my God, I look awful. Crying is not helpful when one is trying to maintain that dewy glow.”
“Jada…，” he warned.
“Okay, okay. I am Jada Townsend-Matthews, and I am enough.”