He doesn’t listen. He raises his fist, pulls his arm back, and then lands a direct hit sending Casey reeling. Maverick points and yells something before Casey regains his senses and retaliates, dealing a sharp blow to Maverick’s jaw. This could get ugly fast but luckily, the referees step in and break up the fight, sending both teams to their locker rooms.
“What were you thinking,” I mutter with a shake of my head.
I wait a while before heading down to meet Maverick. He probably got his ass chewed out by Coach Watson and Jim Spaulding, not to mention, he’s probably benched next week too. Hopefully, punching Casey is worth whatever punishment he receives.
He’s waiting for me in the hall, dressed in his suit, looking devilishly handsome with a fresh bruise blooming on his jaw and his hair mussed from a shower. When our gazes meet, he smiles, a huge shit-eating grin telling me he is not even the slightest bit remorseful.
“Hey there, Rocky,” I greet him. “Did you have a good time knocking out Apollo Creed?”
He laughs and approaches me, sliding an arm around my waist. “Punching that asshole is worth every cent of the fine I have to pay and every minute I have to sit on the bench next week. It felt so good.”
“At least you won,” I say, kissing his bruised face.
“Yes, we did, and I’m in the mood to celebrate.” He pulls me closer into his embrace and dips his head, running the tip of his nose along the column of my neck before placing soft kisses along my jaw. His other hand slides down my back and caresses my backside.
I know what kind of celebration he has in mind. “Just wait until we get home, okay? The back of an SUV isn’t nearly as private as the back of a limo.”
“I’ll try my best.” He winks and then grabs my hand, leading me toward the player’s lot.
There are reporters waiting for us outside, ambushing us with microphones and recorders.
“Can you explain what happened at the end of the game with Casey Ridge?” One reporter manages to ask.
Maverick doesn’t ignore the question. He stops and says, “He did something to hurt my wife and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.”
Of course, they want to know what Casey did but Maverick waves his hand. “It’s personal. I should have left my personal grudges in the locker room and handled the matter in private, but he said something at the end of the game, provoking me. I’m sorry for embarrassing my team, my coaches, and my wife. That’s all I’m going to say about this for now.”
He lowers his head and tightens his grip on my hand, leading me out to the parking lot and into the back of the waiting SUV.
“What did Casey say,” I ask once we’re settled in the car.
“I’d rather not repeat it.” He sighs and looks away, his lips a hard line.
“Was it about me?”
“Of course it was!”
I tug on his shoulder until he finally looks at me. “Hey, I know Casey uses me to push your buttons. We have a history together, and I can’t change the past. I can’t go back in time and not date him. It doesn’t matter though because I chose you. When he dumped me, you were there to pick up the pieces of my heart and put them back together. You’re the man I love and the man I married. He doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not going to listen to him talk shit about you and our relationship, Mia.”
“Then tell me what he said!”
“He said he’d never let a concussion take away the memories of you down on your knees sucking his dick.”
My eyebrows pop up. “Well, he must have some kind of brain injury then because I never did that. Yours is the only cock that’s been in my mouth.”
He chuckles, slides his arm around my shoulder, and kisses the top of my head. “That’s good to hear, baby.”
When we arrive home, I make him a brownie sundae, which is how we normally celebrate a win. We eat them in the living room, in front of a crackling fire.
“I wanted to tell you something,” he says, placing his empty bowl on the coffee table. “I finally got the last of my memories back. The day I came to your apartment to ask for a second chance.”
“That’s wonderful!” I lean forward to kiss him, relishing in the coldness of his lips and the lingering sweetness from the ice cream.
“I just wanted to explain something. I said I believed him because I didn’t feel worthy, but I never explained.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
