“You’ve been naughty,” I teased my wife by dangling a pair of cuffs from my fingers.
“Prove it,” she dared by shaking her ass.
“Pharis Ellis,” I growled and sealed them gently over her wrists. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you scream or beg for will be used against you while I spank your ass red. Do you understand these rights as I’ve explained them to you?”
“Do I get an attorney?” she asked breathlessly.
“No,” I said, bending her over and ripping her thong off. “You get my cock.”
Okay so, that went sideways in a hurry...
“Move,” I warned Butch, already tired of his interference.
“Let her go, man.”
“Mind your fucking business, man.”
“You made it my business when you cuffed her at McShane’s, shoved her in a squad car, and paraded her through the fucking precinct, Eddie. Customers took videos! Do you know how many calls came in making sure it was legit and that she was okay? People want answers, you asshole. You can’t arrest Pharis Hilton—”
“Ellis,” I roared at the reminder she once had my name, but no longer did. When I found out she petitioned to have her name changed, I bawled my fucking eyes out.
“—And expect no one to ask questions. What about her fucking career? You even consider that?”
Actually, not until he’d mentioned it and now that he had, I was fucking worried.
Pushing by him, he yelled, “Where are you going?” I didn’t bother to answer.
Instead, I hauled ass to my truck and went in pursuit of my not so ex-wife.
She was pissed, so I knew she was back at her office inside of Ford Field.
The stadium was her second home, and her personal office was clutch as fuck.
She liked to go there and think often. And honestly, if that were my office? I would too.
I think I loved the space even more than she did because where most people in her position would flaunt their achievements, Pharis didn’t adorn her walls with awards and proof of the rich and powerful she often runs with. No, she paid homage to her hometown team and the players she loved so much.
That was so goddamn humble that every time I stepped over the threshold, I got hard just thinking about how she looked sitting behind her desk.
Flashing my badge, I was allowed entrance and found her right as she was exiting her office.
“Oh God, now what?” she asked sticking a hip out, which is code for, back the fuck up.
“Never got to talk to you,” I reminded her.
“Then take a hint,” she said, trying to go around me.
“What’d you come back here for?”
“My laptop,” she said angrily. “Oh, and let’s not forget, I still work here.”
“What do you mean still?”
Stalking toward the elevator, she punched the button and when the door opened, I of course joined her.
Swiping her badge, we stood in silence as the door closes and the box begins to move.
When it lurched, sending Pharis into my arms, and came to a stop, I held her tight a little longer than I’m sure she appreciated. But having her in my arms was what I focused on. Not the situation.
“Did you do this?” she accused breathlessly. This was Pharis starting to panic because she hated confined spaces. It’s also why her legs are so fucking strong. Normally, she took the steps.
So this was proof she was furious, or so turned on by my presence she wasn't thinking clearly.
“Stop the elevator?” I laughed. “No, but I’ll take credit if I get to keep holding you.”
“I’m serious, Eddie.” She pushed out of my arms.
“I can see that,” I grinned. “But now that we’ve got some time, I have a few things to say.”
“You talk a lot for a dick.”
“I remember a time when I was your dick.”
Not taking the bait, she asked, “What is it? You need money?”
“I don’t need money,” I grumbled. “I’m saving money by staying with Aaron.”
Listen, Pharis made fantastic bank. Me, I do okay, but I’m not on her pay level and never will be. But I was not tracking her down to ask for money. I wasn’t that guy.
“Then why are you stalking me?”
“I’m not—” I stop myself because I totally was. “I haven’t talked to you since...”
“Court,” she said, checking her nails and pretending to hide her anxiety. “The day our divorce was finalized.”
“Yeah.”
“Say it,” she yelled and it echoed off the walls. “Divorce. We are divorced. As in, no longer married. Say it, Eddie.”
When the panel dinged, alerting us to the box working again, I wasn’t sure if I was frustrated or relieved. Not that I expected her to make this easy for me, but fuck...
Arriving at our floor, the door opened, and I stood there with my hands tucked into my pockets.
“Well?” she asked impatiently.
“I tried keeping my distance. I fucking tried. I only wanted what’s best for you...”
While she said nothing, her eyes said everything. She was hurt, confused, and unsure about my sudden reappearance. So, there was no miscommunication I added, “I’m what’s best for you.”
“Is that so?”
“Can we please forget all the bullshit that got us here?”
“Are you serious?” she laughed.
“The question I wanted to ask was can we leave the past behind so I can meet you for the first time right now?”
“No.”
“No?”
Stepping off the elevator, she said, “Time’s up, Eddie,” while she walked the other way.
Seems every time she walked away she was taking my heart with her. Only this time she wasn’t calling the shots. Yelling for all to hear, I called her name. And when she turned, I told her, “This isn’t goodbye, superstar. This is hello.”
Her response? She flipped me off.