Now Or Never by Stella Rhys

38

IAIN

“Just like thegood ol’ days, right?” Adam called to me from across the bar, holding up two pints of the shitty beer we used to drink when we came here as law school students who didn’t have clients yet and thus no need for flashy meetings or remotely sophisticated taste.

“So this is where I’d hear you guys go off to at night,” Holland laughed, perched on my lap as we watched A.J cue up for a shot at the pool table. “God, I used to just lay in bed and wonder forever what kind of bars you were sneaking off to,” she said as I smirked and kissed the back of her neck.

She looked like an effortless knockout tonight in a white Empires V-neck and a pair of those ripped denim shorts she made herself, and with a pool cue in hand, she seemed much more likely a regular here, not a starry-eyed first timer who couldn’t stop looking around like a tourist in Times Square.

I smiled as I watched her survey the bar, taking in its pretty typical sports bar decor like it was something much more interesting. But in truth, if it was interesting to her, it was interesting to me. Because while it had taken some time, I was starting to find her appreciation for the simple things infectious.

Starting to realize just how much good I had in my life.

“You know what, I lied, it’s not the good ol’ days,” Adam said when he came back, handing me my beer. “It’s a million times better, because this one is here,” he grinned, reaching over to ruffle Holland’s hair before turning to heckle A.J despite the fact that they were on the same team.

I smiled instinctively at the sound of Holland’s laugh as I took a drink of my awful beer, which a part of me wished was coffee, because I was completely wiped after my first day back to work following my first ever long weekend. There’d been plenty to catch up on, and it had been easily one of the busiest work days of my life, but as tired as I felt right now, I was still grinning from ear to ear because I had Holland leaning back against me right now, giggling at Adam’s antics and asking to try a sip of my beer.

Apparently, the solution to any bad feeling was just holding her to my chest.

I’d felt ripped wide open the other night after I told her the truth about everything. Daniel. My father. Growing up the way that I did, I’d felt vulnerable more than a couple of times. But the other night wasn’t as simple as feeling vulnerable.

I felt like a bleeding wound.

It was every rush of emotion I’d feared and spent years training myself not to have. And I wouldn’t have believed it if anyone told me a month ago that I would feel that way, confess those sins, and live to tell the tale. As I had said them to Holland the other night, I wasn’t fully sure I’d survive it.

But I did because as freely as my heart bled, just holding her against my chest had made me feel okay. Good, even.

Whole.

It made me feel like one day, the bleeding might actually stop.

The pain of what happened was never going to disappear, but now that I’d reached into my heart and touched it, it didn’t feel so much like a dark beast I had to bury. It just felt like another part of me. It wasn’t pretty and it was still raw.

But I was going to work on helping it heal.

“Okay, you should probably stop that now,” Holland whispered, making me peer up in the middle of planting soft kisses along her neck.

“Stop what?”

“Making me want to go home and take all my clothes off for you.”

I groaned into her shoulder and smoothed my hands down her thighs. “We can do that, you know.” I brushed my lips along the softness of her skin. “We’ll just make the time up to Adam by visiting him in L.A soon. Next weekend if you want. Or tomorrow.”

Holland giggled as she rolled her head back onto my shoulder. “I don’t think you realize how crazy you sound right now.”

“I don’t think you realize how completely in love with you I am.”

She stilled, pausing for a moment. Then she turned in my lap to look at me with her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. But just as she opened her mouth to speak, I heard a familiar drawl to our right.

“No fuckin’ way.”

My brow furrowed before I even turned to confirm who I knew I’d see there, but once I saw him, my frown deepened further.

Because standing three feet from us was a grinning, bleary-eyed, already-drunk-as-hell Shane Watt—who was not only my client, but the one who had initially spotted Holland at the bar the first night she came back into my life.

He was the one who’d said every filthy thing under the sun about her.

The one who’d inspired me to get her fired.

So yeah. Definitely had more than a few reasons to be less than pleased.

On a professional level, it was still the middle of the season and he was supposed to be rehabbing a recent elbow injury, not getting shitfaced at a bar.

And on a personal level, he was staring at Holland in sheer delighted surprise, leering so openly at her right now that I felt her shirk back into my chest. Instinctively, I held her tighter, but when it was clear Watt wasn’t going anywhere, I murmured in her ear to go to where Adam and A.J were across the pool table.

And once she did, I rose to my feet. “This can’t be good for the rehab, Watt,” I said.

“Don’t worry about me, Thorn, I know what’s best for me. At least I do now,” he sneered.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked while taking a quick glance around to survey the number of eyes on us. More than a few pairs considering Shane Watt was a pretty recognizable figure in a New York sports bar.

“It means I thought I was crazy, but now I’m feeling like I shouldn’t have trusted you,” Shane said.

And when I asked if we could step somewhere private, he spat a hard no, so I asked patiently, “Why shouldn’t you have trusted me, Watt?”

“Well, for starters, the contract,” he said easily, referring to the very endorsement deal I’d been talking to him and Ty Damon about that night we saw Holland. The deal he’d been perfectly fine with until he saw in the news that Damon was earning forty percent more.

“We talked about this,” I said. “Endorsement deals are always bigger for sluggers. They hit home runs. Fans love them. That’s just how it goes.”

“Yeah. And I don’t matter cause I’m just a fucking lowly reliever, right?”

“There’s nothing lowly about your role on this team. You’ve helped the Empires to two consecutive championships. You come in when it matters. You’re crucial. You know that.”

“Yeah, well… we’ll see how crucial I am now that you got Perez traded over here to replace me.”

Christ.

“I got Perez traded because he requested a trade, Watt. I didn’t get him traded here to replace you. I understand your mind can go to dark places when you’re on the injured list, but that’s the very reason you need to use this time to take care of yourself,” I said. “Beyond that, you’ve been in the league long enough to understand that this is how the business works. When you were traded to the Empires four years ago, you wound up taking over someone’s job. And whether or not Perez takes yours is beyond my control. My job as your agent is to get you the paycheck you deserve. If and when your manager decides to give you the ball isn’t up to me.”

“I don’t know, Thorn… just feels like you’re doing everything against my best interests,” Watt said, back to smiling big despite the fact that I knew he didn’t find anything funny. “Hell, man.” He shook his head and clucked, rubbing his jaw while gazing down the pool table at Holland. “You even got Blondie fired so I couldn’t fuck her.”

My pulse kicked up as I peered over at Holland. She was standing between A.J and Adam, who looked tense and torn as he watched me closely, ready to step in when he needed to, but unwilling to jump the gun since we were both agents. We knew the delicate balance we had to strike with clients.

We also knew we were in public with people watching.

Facing me again, Watt chuckled.

“Yeah, I got to hear all about that,” he said smugly. “I know you haven’t been back that much, but I still go to that bar, and that stupid one with the fake tits? Lana? She told me all about how you got Blondie fired the day after I talked to her,” he said, his lip curling. “So you could keep that sweet young pussy for yourself, I guess.”

My blood boiled as I stared at Watt, but outwardly, I gave nothing away as I took a half step closer to him.

“I’m going to walk away now, Watt,” I informed him, allowing more than a shade of warning to find its way into my professional tone. “And after I leave this bar, I sincerely hope you do the same, because what you need right now is to go home, drink some water and get some rest. And in the morning, you and I can have a much-needed talk about all your concerns,” I said.

And for as calm as I was, I knew the hostility between us was palpable, because the bar was quieter now than was natural for the amount of people inside.

“Yeah, well, what if you’re not my agent in the morning?” Watt challenged with a curl of the lip.

That would be for the best, but we’ll wait till your stupid, drunk ass is sober to finalize it, I thought.

Though what I said was much more acceptable on a professional level.

“In that case, Watt, we won’t speak at all.”

And with a single look in Adam’s direction, we were heading for the doors, Adam ushering A.J and Holland with both hands till I could grab hold of Holland myself.

“What, you like guys who get you fired from your job?” Watt taunted her as we passed, making my shoulders tighten and my pulse thump in my ears. But I ignored Watt to walk with Holland, both of us trailing Adam and A.J and leaving behind my drunk idiot of a more-than-likely-former client.

“That’s the guy from that night, right?” Holland whispered shakily when we got outside. I nodded. But I said nothing yet, still tense because my driver had yet to round the corner, and that made us sitting ducks for the drunk athlete with the bruised ego.

I’d expected it, but my pulse spiked when I heard the front doors of the bar burst open behind us.

Then came Watt’s sneering laughter.

“Hey, what if we all didn’t have jobs tomorrow?” he asked.

“Watt,” I growled before I even turned around, but as soon as I did, my eyes went wild because I saw him reaching for Holland.

“Why don’t you come with me?” he jeered, grabbing onto a fistful of her shirt.

Then he jerked so hard she fell and though I knew that shouting followed, I heard none of it because I was already consumed.

With blinding fury. White-hot rage.

I saw A.J rushing to Holland. Heard Adam growling in my ear. He trapped his arms around me, but I broke free easily.

Then I lunged at Watt and with a single swing, he dropped.