Free FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance by Vivian Lux

No one knew, except for Brad. Getting cheated on is not something that is easy to bring up in conversation, especially not with your erstwhile father/coach. All he knew was that my engagement ended abruptly, and within a few weeks I had turned into the biggest manwhore on the planet. He hated it. He’d want me to fix things with Candace, he’d expect me to have the balls to admit my mistake and accept whatever consequences there were because of it.
    “Yeah, Coach,” I barked, doing my best to keep my voice even.
    “You making good decisions?”
    Good decisions. Bastard knows exactly how to hit me. “Yeah,” I grunted. Then my shoulders slumped. “No…”
    “Well, I have faith you’ll make the right choice,” he said, and turned to walk away.
    The right choice .
    There was no doubt in my mind about what that was. I wanted to see Candace again—no, needed to see her again. I needed to apologize for letting my anger with Lisette spill over into her life. And I needed her to know that what we had was more important to me than just some quick finger fuck in the locker room. When she smiled at me, I felt a twinge of pride. The same pride I felt when Coach Randall called me son. It was the pride that came from knowing I was a better person than most people believed me to be. Coach Randall knew I was a good guy. Maybe not a nice guy, but a good one.
    Candace seemed to think so, too.
    “I’ll be there in a sec, guys,” I shouted out into the rink.
    Then I grabbed my phone again.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eleven
    Candace
     
    The sound of a toilet flushing echoed through the tile restroom. I turned my face so that Marissa from HR couldn’t see me.
    Olivia leaned over, deftly shielding me with her body. “How’s it going, Marissa!” she called loudly.
    The very pregnant HR director smiled wanly. “I’ll be happy when this baby comes out and stops dancing on my bladder,” she smiled ruefully. I could see her face reflected in the mirror, but she couldn’t see me.
    Which was for the best. My face was completely swollen and streaked with red. My puffy eyes glittered with as yet unshed tears.
    I was a hot mess. On the outside, and definitely on the inside.
    “Clear,” Olivia hissed as the ladies’ room door banged closed.
    I responded by loudly blowing my nose into toilet tissue. “This is pathetic,” I pronounced.
    Olivia didn’t say anything, only handed me another square.
    I honked my nose again. “I mean, really, you were right. I should have listened to you. Why didn’t I listen to you?”
    “A question for the ages, darling,” Olivia said soothingly. She ran some paper towel under the faucet. “Fix your mascara,” she ordered.
    “I mean, I just met him,” I went on. “But we seemed to hit it off so well.  Three days ago, I didn’t even know he existed, and now I’m crying in a bathroom over him. You are right, I move way too fucking fast.”
    “Dab,” Olivia said sternly, shoving the wet towel in my hand.
    I did as I was ordered, dabbing the black streaks away from the corners of my eyes. “I really need to start wearing waterproof mascara all the time,” I joked lamely.
    “You really don’t need to beat yourself up so badly about this,” Olivia said. “He didn’t tell you to go fuck yourself—”
    “He may as well have,” I muttered darkly.
    Olivia ignored me. “He didn’t tell you he never wanted to see you again. All he said was… Wait—what did he say exactly?”
    “He told me to stop calling, and to have some dignity, then he hung up the phone.”
    Olivia winced. “Sheesh. Is he having a bad day or something?”
    “I would have asked him,” I spread my hands, “but he fucking hung up on me.”
    She cocked her head to the side. “Candelabra—”
    “I know,” I said, holding up my hands to ward off her impending ‘I-told-you-so.’ “You told me he wasn’t a nice guy, and I didn’t listen. This is what I get.” I shook my