“What now?” I asked as Aspen ushered me into a car outside the stadium. The quick Q&A with the press had gone well. I didn’t slug anyone and with Taylor and Alex next to me the questions focused on the tournament not my personal scandals.

“Now we go back to the village and get your bags.”

“What do you mean, love?” I stretched my legs.

“You’re moving into the hotel with me until the end of the games.”

“Worried you’re going to leave me with the other wolves?” I grinned.

“You are the wolf. Nothing good can happen for you in there. I cleared it with your coach. You’re not the only one staying outside of the village.” She peered at me from the corner of her eye. “Without an agent, you’re going to have to count on me for your public relations. This was my first executive decision.”

If she expected me to be angry, she was wrong. I hated the village.

“I’m not used to counting on anyone. I learned a long time ago not to make that mistake.”

She turned to face me while the driver whipped us through the streets that led to the athletic housing complex.

“How is that possible? You play a team sport. Of course you count on people.”

“I’m the keeper.”

“So?”

“So.” I stared hard. “I don’t need anyone. It’s between me and the bloody striker who has the ball.”

“That’s a rather dark and isolated way to view your sport.”

“It’s the truth. When someone is coming toward me, it’s my job to protect the box—no one else’s. It’s man versus man. There’s no one holding my hand or patting me on the back when the ball is kicked toward my face. There’s no one there to catch me so I don’t land in the metal or get tangled in the net. It’s only me. I’m the one I have to count on.”

“I think I’m starting to understand why your team thinks you’re such an asshole.” She crossed her arms.

“And what do you think?”

She flinched. “It doesn’t matter what I think. I only have to see what other people see and fix it.”

“It didn’t seem to bother you this morning when I was shagging you.” I gritted my teeth.

“Lachlan!”

“What? I’m good enough to be your bad boy in bed, but you don’t want to admit that you like it. I know your type.”

“Excuse me. I am not a type.”

I rubbed my jaw with my palm. I didn’t know why I was letting her get to me like this, or why my mood had suddenly soured.

“You are a type. Tight. Stuck up. Controlling. But behind closed doors, you don’t want any of that. Do you? You want a man who can take you to your knees and make you beg for more. You want to be fucked so hard you scream.” Her eyes widened and she pressed her hands against her thighs. But I didn’t stop. She was right. I was an asshole. “You like it when I lick you. You like it when I take you from behind. You like all those things because deep down you’re exactly like me, Aspen. Exactly.”

“I’m nothing like you,” she seethed.

The car had stopped on the outskirts of the village, but I wasn’t leaving this seat until she knew the rules. I wrote the rules.

“We are the same. And at the end of these three weeks, you’ll see it.”

She whipped her head toward the window so that I couldn’t see her face. “Get out.”

I had taken it too far. But the recklessness in me was fierce. This was what I did. I wrecked things. I blazed my own trail of destruction. When something was good I found a way to darken it.

“We had a deal,” I reminded her.

It was a slow turn, but she let her eyes land on mine. I saw the tears glisten from the sun.

“I can’t follow through on something like this. Not with someone like you. I’ve changed my mind. I didn’t know this side of you when I agreed.”

It shouldn’t have mattered that I had brought tears to her eyes, but they hit me in the center of my chest. Why was I such a prick?

I reached toward her cheek, and brushed one away with the pad of my thumb.

“I’m sorry, love.”

“I can’t do it.” She tried to shake my touch from her face.

“I took it too far. I didn’t mean it.”

I realized it was the first time I had apologized for something in a long time. The words came easier than I thought they would.

“I did like what we did this morning,” she whispered. “But I can’t be with a man—even if it’s only a pretend relationship—who thinks I’m only a piece of ass. I can’t do it. Sex is one thing. This—you—it’s something totally different. There’s darkness I can’t handle.”

Damn it. She was making this difficult.

“Bloody hell, Aspen. I don’t think that.” I cupped her chin with my fingers. “If I did, I wouldn’t be sitting in this car right now. I wouldn’t have agreed to go to the hotel. I wouldn’t have handed over my brand to you.” I didn’t expect the confession to pour out. “I trust you. You’re the only one I have left. And you’ve stuck with me even when I’ve been a prat. Sometimes I’m a cock up.” I hung my head.

“You’re just realizing this?” she questioned.

I looked into the shimmer of blues swirling in her eyes. They cut through me like a dagger.

“No. I’m just realizing I care that I’m a cock up.”

She closed her eyes. “How do we do this?”

“Like this.” I pressed my lips to her mouth and kissed her.

“You are fucking sexy and smart.” I grinned. “And I’m an asshole. Can we agree on that?”

She nodded. “Agreed.”

“Will you accept my apology even though it’s not going to be the last time I’m a bloody fool?”

“I’m afraid I’ll regret it,” she whispered.

She wasn’t wrong.

“I’m going to grab my bags. Keep the car running for me? I know how to make it up to you.” I winked.

Things seemed to have calmed down. I wanted to kick myself for jeopardizing it all. Without her, I didn’t have a chance of making it back to England with my contracts. With her, I had everything.