Page 66 of Dirty Player
A muscle jumped in his cheek, making his lips twist. “Leave. Now.”
She walked up to him, and I curled my hands into fists. I wanted to reach out and tell her to stop, but I was frozen solid.
He jerked away, pushing Rudolph back a step. He had the same scowl on his face Oliver and Beaux had.
“Don’t touch me. You lost that right and you know it.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but not so quiet I couldn’t still hear her. “I’m sorry for everything. For hurting you and leaving you. I’m sorry I was too young to be able to handle everything we went through. But if I’m honest, I’m glad I ran into you. Was going to call you before Monday. I’d like to get together and talk. See if we can maybe set some of this anger between us aside? I’ve missed you, Oliver.”
Her voice softened further, almost pleading. It was gentle and sweet and sounded like a beautiful song—one that made me want to vomit.
Oliver swallowed. The world seemed to shake beneath my feet when he looked at her, something in his eyes shining that I hadn’t seen before—not directed at me, anyway.
This was his ex-wife. Essentially throwing herself at him. And he was standing there considering it.
He stepped back then, looked over her shoulder, and avoided my gaze. “I’ll see you Monday.”
She licked her lips and stepped back, turning to me as she did. The wounded expression in her light brown eyes evened out as she caught my gaze.
“It was lovely to meet you, Shannon. How do you know Oliver?”
“The new quarterback for the Rough Riders, Beaux, is my brother,” I explained, my mouth feeling parched and thick.
Behind her, Oliver didn’t argue. He didn’t say a thing. He didn’t tell her that I was with him now, or that he’d moved on from her.
It hurt more than it should have. More than it had the right to. When Serena’s gaze traveled over my face and then lower before she looked me back in the eyes, something like relief shined in them. “Oh. That makes sense then. Hopefully we’ll be seeing more of each other soon.”
Still, Oliver said nothing. Did nothing. Didn’t tell her she was wrong, or that she was outside her ever-loving mind if he thought for one second I’d have anything to do with her and why.
I couldn’t respond to her, and she didn’t wait for me to, anyway. Instead, she waved my card in the air before sliding it into her purse and telling me she’d see me soon.
Oliver turned and watched her walk away.
Conflict darkened his hazel eyes when he scrubbed a hand down his face. “We need to talk, Shannon.”
An ice cold shiver rolled through me, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “I’m busy.”
“Later then.” He dragged his eyes to mine then, as if he was forcing himself to look at me instead of watching his ex-wife walk away.
Ex. The word seemed to grow louder inside my mind with every passing moment.
My lips were too dry to speak, too cracked and chapped. I could only stare at him while Beaux pushed himself through the tent until he was next to me.
I jumped when he put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it.
“I don’t know when I’ll be done, Oliver.”
I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to hear any of it. Beaux stood next to me, radiating the need to protect me, but I didn’t want that either.
I wanted to go back to this morning—or two weeks ago when Oliver and I had met, and I wanted to do everything different. The look he’d just given Serena wasn’t the look of a man who was over his wife, but a look that screamed he still loved her, still wanted her, and would take her if given the chance. The fact that Beaux seemed to pick up on it as quick as I had made it more obvious. Not to mention humiliating.
“Call me when you’re done here?”
It wasn’t so much a question, but a demand.
When I nodded, he lifted his gaze to Beaux’s and then looked at Rudolph. “I need to go,” he muttered, pushing past Rudolph.
“Powell,” he called out, but Oliver didn’t turn around. He didn’t look back.
