by Emma Salah
“What’s wrong?” he asked with concern.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. Something’s wrong.”
Reagan turned on her heel and walked to her sofa. She flopped down into it and stuffed her head under the hundreds of throw cushions she had. Fuck, he was right, something was definitely wrong. He shut the door behind himself. Zac had spent the day wondering what kind of torture Reagan was going to put him through tonight. This morning when he had slid out of her bed, after another restless night, she had seemed fine. What the fuck had happened between then and now?
He crouched down beside her head.
“Reagan,” he called softly.
“Go away, Zac,” she said, her words muffled but still understandable.
“What about our date?”
“Fuck the date.”
He almost laughed at that.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
She lifted her head. Most of her curls covered her face, part of it frizzy, and her eyes were spitting mad.
“You want to know what’s wrong: my boss is a dickhead, that’s what’s wrong.”
She slammed her head into her cushions over and over again.
“Okay, stop,” he said. “I really don’t want to find out if you can cause yourself a concussion with cushions. And why do you need this many?”
When she ignored him and continued hitting herself, he grabbed her. Hands on her cheeks, he turned her head to face him.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Ree,” he said again.
“Remember me telling you about Trent Newman and how I signed him as a client?”
Zac nodded.
“Mitchell gave him to Daniel. He said it was because I didn’t have enough ‘experience’ to be dealing with such a high-profile client. But we all know it’s because I don’t have the right skin tone or the right equipment between my legs.”
Zac didn’t know what he should say to that. This was not his area of expertise. He had his own agent, yes, and that agent happened to be a senior agent at his agency, but that told him next to nothing about the business. What he did know was how hard Reagan worked and how fucking amazing she was at her job. She was passionate about sports, but more she cared about people and getting the best for them. He’d watched her over the years devote so much of her time to going above and beyond, like helping Chris Morgan, the football player, with his interview with PSY TV. She’d spent hours listening to Morgan practice again and again, only stumbling into her dad’s monthly dinner at midnight. Fuck, she was as hardworking as any of them.
“I know I haven’t been doing this long, but he was my client,” Reagan continued in a whisper.
“Do you think you can do this, Ree?” he asked her quietly.
“I’m—”
“Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
“Then, that’s all that matters,” he said.
She huffed. “Um, no, it isn’t. I do answer to people, you know.”
“Fuck ’em.”
“That’s real helpful!”
“You were the one who managed to convince Trent to sign with your agency, not them,” he said, fiercely. “Trent trusts you, not them. He wants to work with you, not them. Everything I’ve said is true, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“So, prove to them that you can do this and that they can’t do it without you.”
Her big eyes showed her confusion. “And how do I do that?”
He grinned at her. “I can’t do everything for you, Ree. You’ll think of something.”
Reagan groaned. Zac rubbed her cheek.
“Remember when Dean accidentally shaved off his eyebrow during his beauty phase and he locked himself in his bedroom, saying he wouldn’t come out because he wasn’t beautiful anymore?”
“Yeah, but what the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“You sat with him for hours, arguing and pushing him until finally he let you draw on a replacement one so he could drag his ass to the airport and get back so he didn’t get fired. You did that. And why?” He waved a hand at her and waited.
“Because I’m useful.” She scrunched her face in confusion.
“Yeah, you are. The most caring person I know. You never give up, so why the hell would you give up now?”
Reagan nodded slowly. “I guess. I’ll think about it.”
“Sit up,” Zac told her.
When she did as he asked, he pulled himself onto the sofa and reached for her. She sighed as she put her head in his lap.
“My boss is a dickhead,” she mumbled again.
He smiled. “Do you still want to go out?”
“No. I just want to stay here.” She buried her face deeper into his stomach.
“We can do that.”
“Maybe eating some ice cream would help?”
He stroked her hair. “Do you have any ice cream?”
She shook her head.
“I’ll buy some Rocky Road for you.”
“You are the best.”
“You’re going to have to let me go if you want that ice cream.” He smirked down at her.
She kept her face hidden but shook her head again.
“In a few minutes then.”
“Careful with my hair. I don’t want it to get knotted.”
“I know how to handle your hair.”
He kept on stroking her, feeling her body relax further until it seemed like she was asleep.
* * *
Half an hour later, Zac managed to coax Reagan into going outside with him. They bought ice cream and returned to the sofa. Now, a movie was blasting on the TV while they ate said ice cream. Mint flavor for him and Rocky Road for her.
As a car exploded on-screen, he felt Reagan turn to look at him.
“Why are we watching this goddamn awful film again?”
“You better watch yourself,” he warned. “Don’t you dare mock Vin Diesel.”
“They never once stop for gas during this whole entire film and how do they not care that so many people died? I don’t get it.”
“I swear, Ree, keep talking smack about one of the greatest films of all time—”
“The greatest film of all time?” She laughed. “And what? What will you do to me, huh?”
A dare? Oh, Ree had no idea what she’d got herself into. He crept his hand under her skirt and she shivered in anticipation.
“Don’t do it. Zac! I mean it. Please.”
But it was too late. She’d insulted one of his favorite movies and now she had to pay the price. He tickled her sides and her stomach. She rolled onto her back, laughing, screaming, squirming. He trapped her beneath him, his thighs draped over hers.
“I warned you, again and again, Ree, not to make fun of my movies. And what did you do?”
“Stop! Stop!” she screeched. “I’m gonna piss myself.”
He eased up, but he was laughing just as hard as her. “Say you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Zac held himself above her, his hands on either side of her head, his arms flexing. Her hair was a mess of curls and there was a flush of color in her cheeks that had been previously absent.
He licked his lips. “You feeling better now?”
“The best. You?”
His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Why wouldn’t I be? Everything with work was going great, other than the impending decision of becoming captain or not, but he’d deal with that when he had to. For now, he wanted to focus entirely on her.
“You didn’t sleep last night,” she said, softly, gently. “Another nightmare?”
He tensed. “Don’t—”
“Wait, Zac.” She squeezed his arms, holding him to her. “Please, all I want is for you to talk about it. It’s eating at you. I�
��m your friend, aren’t I? You can talk to me about it.”
For the last few hours it hadn’t even crossed his mind. Fuck, why did Reagan have to bring this up when everything had been going perfectly fine?
“I can’t, Ree.” The words were pushed from his throat, low and hurt. “I just can’t.”
“Okay, okay.”
She ran her fingers into his hair and pulled him down into her. At first, he considered pushing up and away, but he couldn’t. He buried his face into her neck, melting into her, while she murmured soothing words to him. While she held him, he forgot that the nightmares were waiting for him. I wish I could stay here forever.
Chapter Twenty
Letty and Reagan stood side by side at the back entrance of the stadium. The charity hockey game had finished only a few moments ago and Reagan was still riding the high from the crowd’s excitement. Her throat was slightly hoarse from all the screaming she had done. Watching Zac in his element was always a treat for the eyes. He was magnetic to watch. He was lightning fast, zooming around the ice rink on his skates, chasing after that puck. The other team’s defense was no match for him or the other players. The game had ended three-zero.
“You were getting turned on watching him, weren’t you?” Letty asked, amused.
She was leaning against the wall, one leg up. Wearing a leather jacket, a long pale pink figure-hugging sweater dress and knee-high boots, Letty looked like the epitome of a bad girl.
Reagan nodded, leaning against the opposite wall facing her. She was dressed the way she dressed at every sports game she went to: jersey, jeans and Converses. But the name on her back read THOMAS and not the one she truly wanted. She took a deep breath. Things are going well, she told herself. Things between her and Zac had shifted, ever since she had given him the dream catcher and told him the simple truth that she was his; that she belonged to him. And when he’d helped her that night with her dickhead boss? She couldn’t think about it without smiling like a person who should be locked up in an insane asylum.
“I don’t blame you. Hockey players are mighty fine.”
“Back off, bitch, he’s mine.”
Letty’s throaty laugh echoed in the hallway. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to go after your man. We all know he couldn’t handle me.”
“Who could?” she teased.
“Yeah,” Letty said, wistfully. “Who could?”
They were in a more isolated part of the building. Technically, they weren’t meant to be here at all. This section was exclusively for agents, players and sports personnel only. Lucky them that they made that short list.
“Tonight’s the night, isn’t it?” Letty asked.
Reagan nodded and kept nodding. Five days down into the second week of their relationship and they had one more date left.
“Nervous?”
Reagan shook her head and kept shaking.
Letty laughed. “Okay, you’re freaking me out, girl. Stop.”
“I can’t stop. I think I’m broken. Tonight’s the night, Letty. What if the last two weeks have been pointless and he doesn’t want me? What if he’d rather be friends? What if—”
Her best friend pointed at her. “What if is for the weak and for the unimaginative. You, Reagan Thomas, are now a go-getter. So if you want answers, fucking demand them.”
“You’re right,” Reagan said.
“Hells yeah, I’m right.”
“Dial back the gloating. I was already halfway there.” Reagan grinned. “I’ll ask Zac tonight, before sex of course, point-blank: be with me. Or is that a little too 1950s homemaker woman? Should I try more of a rom-com thing and Love and Basketball his ass, but hockey edition?”
Letty stared at her. “You’re overthinking this.”
“Who, me? When have I ever overthought things?”
Suddenly, Letty straightened off the wall and pointed to the other end of the hallway.
“Heads up, they’re coming and you need to relax.”
Reagan followed her finger to see Aidan and Zac coming through the double doors. She wiped her hands nervously on the light blue jeans she was wearing as she watched them. They had both taken the time to shower with Zac’s dirty blond hair wet and looking darker than usual. His sports bag was slung over his shoulder and he was staring down at his phone with a frown. He was wearing a dark suit, looking good enough to eat.
Zac looked up from his phone and his eyes met hers. His lips slowly curved until he was full-on smiling, dimples out. Her heart pounded and she felt his smile to the tips of her toes. God, I want him.
She stepped forward, wanting to be in his arms. The sound of a bag hitting the tiled floor was what broke her gaze. Startled, she shifted and noticed Aidan standing in front of her. Oh god, oh god, she thought in a panic. Had he seen the way she was looking at Zac? Or how she had been about to give him a hug?
While she was mentally hyperventilating, Aidan leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. Okay, he’s not looking at me any differently. Breathe, Reagan. He didn’t see anything or else he would have said something, right? Right?
“Hey, big brother,” she said, faintly.
“Hey, Reagan.” He lifted his chin towards Letty. “Letty.”
Letty pulled one hand out of her pocket and waved.
“Aidan. Nice block in the fourth quarter.” She smiled.
“Thanks,” he said, flatly, staring at her with an odd expression.
Letty turned her smile onto Zac. “But you, Zachariah, were amazing.”
“Thanks.” Zac dropped his own bag onto the floor between his spread legs, crossing his arms. His eyes briefly shifted away and met Reagan’s. She lost her breath at the look in them. Shit, she was going to get it later.
“You seemed like you were playing with more... pizazz then normal. Something have you worked up?” Letty asked, blinking up at him innocently.
What the fuck? Reagan shot her a sharp look that Letty ignored. She was going to kill her best friend. Kill her dead. And Aidan was frowning as he looked between the two.
Zac let out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Had to give you ladies a show. I wouldn’t want you guys to come and watch us lose.”
Letty grinned back at him. “And we ladies very much appreciate that.”
“Reagan,” Aidan cut through abruptly. “You need a ride?”
Her brain short-circuited and she could not for the life of her think of a plausible lie. She couldn’t exactly say, “Sorry, Aidan, we chose not to come with our cars, because one, parking is a bitch and two, I made the plan for your best friend to take me to his place and fuck me silly. After, of course, I find out whether he wants to be with me for the rest of our lives.”
So instead, she said, “Ah...”
“Actually, Reagan was planning to head to Nigel’s Pizza,” Letty said, smoothly.
Aidan tapped Zac’s arm. “That’s in your direction, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Zac nodded. “I can take her there and then drop her home later, if that’s good with you, Ree?”
He watched her in a way that made her mouth water and her pussy tingle.
“Yeah,” she breathed out.
It was so good with her.
“And I guess that means I’m riding with you,” Letty said to Aidan.
“Why don’t you ride with Reagan and Zac?”
Letty was shaking her head even before he finished his question.
“I live in the opposite direction, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” Aidan sighed.
“Does that mean you’re going to oh-so-kindly give me a ride?”
Aidan grunted.
“Thank you,” she said, sweetly.
I really need to have a talk with Letty, Reagan thought to herself. Or pretty soon her brother was going to end up killing her best friend.
“Glad you came to see us play, little sis,” Aidan said, as he hugged her.
“Me too,” she said, returning his hug. “See you later.”
They separated, both pairs heading to different parts of the parking garage. As soon as Zac and Reagan turned the corner and were out of sight, Zac’s bag was on the floor and Reagan’s back was against the wall. She moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer. He kissed her, with one hand tangled in her hair and the other digging into her hip.
“You need to be more careful,” Zac said, nipping her bottom lip.
“I know.” She groaned.
“Aidan almost noticed.”
“I know...just shut up and kiss me.” To her surprise, he did. His hand drifted from her hair to her throat, using pressure there to angle her head back and take her mouth deeper, wetter. Mm, so good. He rubbed his lips against hers for a few seconds more, before pulling away. She panted as he reached for his bag and her hand.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
She couldn’t agree with him more.
They got buckled up in his car and within a few minutes, they were out the parking lot and on the road. Reagan watched him as he drove. He glanced at her, smirking.
“You’re staring.”
“What can I say? You’re amazingly good-looking.”
He barked out a laugh. “I’m glad you came tonight.”
His words warmed her, as much as the look in his eyes did.
“Me too. You were amazing out there,” she told him.
He looked away, back to the road. “You think so?”
“I know so,” she said, softly.
He sighed, drumming his fingers on the top of the steering wheel as they stopped at a traffic light. “I’m just glad it was all worth it.”
“Worth what?”
“All the sacrifice, especially from your dad. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t think I would be here today.”
“And what? You did nothing to contribute to where you are today?” she said, on a disbelieving laugh.
“Nothing compared to what he did for me.”
“Dad would be the first one to tell you that without all of your hard work, talent and sacrifices, nothing would have come from it. He might have given you the means, Zac, but you did this. Not him.”