Hard Pass (St. Louis Mavericks #3) Read Online Brenda Rothert

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: St. Louis Mavericks Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
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“Mark my words—there’s friction between him and Nash.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it, Nash mentioned that Eric was kind of a dick. They’d gone back and forth with some hazing and practical jokes, but I just thought it was typical locker room stuff. It didn’t occur to me there was actual beef there. I don’t think there was on Nash’s part. He and Lars and Boone are always busting each other’s balls, so this feels different.”

Dee’s eyelids were starting to droop. “Did you like him? I mean, really like him?”

“Who? Nash or Rob?”

“They’re the same person. If you liked one, you liked the other.”

“I had a strong emotional connection with one, and a strong physical attraction to the other.”

“They’re the same person.” She glared at me. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Well, yeah, of course I liked them. Him. Whatever. But it doesn’t matter. That ship has sailed. He used me.”

“How?”

“What?”

“How did he use you? You texted him first. You yourself admit it was a coincidence that your wrong text went to someone on the Mavericks. By that time, you guys were friends. Then he met you, and even though you didn’t know it was him, you liked Nash. You also said you were looking to let your hair down that night you hooked up, so you were interested in sleeping with him. If you’d said no, he wouldn’t have forced the issue.”

“Of course not. Nash would never…” My voice trailed off. The last thing I wanted to do was defend the lying bastard.

“So explain how he used you?”

“Fine. He didn’t use me—he scammed me and let me believe he was someone he wasn’t!”

“Not really. Nash was always just Nash. And when he realized there was no good way to tell you the truth, he basically had Rob ghost you.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“Yours, girlfriend. Always. Which is why I need to play devil’s advocate once in a while to make you look at the whole picture.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said sharply. “He should have come clean the moment he realized who I was.”

“Yes, he should have.”

“But?”

“But maybe he was afraid just like you were. Maybe he was tired of girls who were after his money, his looks, whatever. Maybe—”

“Enough.” I held up a hand. “I love you and you’ve been incredible today, but I don’t want to talk about Nash anymore. It’s done. So let’s drop it.”

“No regrets?”

“Nope.”

Well, maybe a little tiny bit of regret.

But I’d never say that out loud.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Nash

“Who gives a shit that we lost last night? This really puts things into perspective,” Wes said, shaking his head.

We were standing outside the funeral home where Annie’s funeral service had just been held, waiting for Lars to pick us up in his SUV so we could all ride to the cemetery together.

Sawyer had asked me, Wes, Lars, and Drew to be pallbearers. I’d been surprised and deeply honored by the request. Almost everyone from the Mavericks organization had been at the funeral service, and I’d seen Sariah and felt her gaze on me as we carried Annie’s casket out, but it wasn’t the right time to engage with her.

Damn, did I want to, though. I saw her standing with some other front office people about a hundred feet away, looking beautiful in formfitting black slacks and a dark-gray short-sleeved blouse, her hair pulled back in a neat bun, and it was all I could do not to walk over there, take her hand and beg her forgiveness.

Sawyer had eulogized his wife at her funeral service. He’d wiped the corners of his eyes, smiled sadly and started by saying, “I was told spouses don’t usually do this, but Annie and I never played by any other rules but our own, so I’m not following that one, either.”

He’d tearfully told everyone the story of how he and Annie met, about feeling like he’d been struck by lightning the day he met his future wife.

“Annie used to say finding true love was like calling the IRS and having a real, live person pick up on the first ring,” he’d said, his voice thick with emotion. “Like getting to Hannah’s Kitchen, our favorite bakery, after seven in the morning and still getting a hot and fresh frosted cinnamon roll. What are the chances?”

His words were still ringing in my ears. What were the chances a woman who lives in the same city as me would accidentally text me and end up taking me completely by storm? That she’d end up working for my team? That she’d be not just beautiful, but smart, strong, and funny as hell?

It was so unlikely and yet…here we were. It had to mean something that fate had brought Sariah and I together, and I knew it wasn’t supposed to end like this.

Lars pulled up nearby and Wes, Drew, and I loaded into his vehicle and we drove over to the ceremony for the burial. Tomorrow morning, the team was flying to Detroit for our third playoff game, but today, that was the furthest thing from anyone’s mind. Wes was right. It was hard to get worked up over a game when you watched a family grieving the loss of their beautiful daughter, sister, aunt, wife, and friend. She was so young.



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