Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(38)

“I should have you drop me off at the bar,” Ellie notes when I turn down her street.

“Probably not a good idea tonight.” No doubt about it, Ellie is going to be a hot topic for at least a couple of days, and since the Penalty Box is the known hangout for the team when we win a home game, there will be reporters lurking.

“You think the reporters are going to confront me after tonight?” she asks, frowning.

“It’s a good probability.”

I pull my truck into her driveway, shut off the engine, and hop out quickly so I can help both of them out. I manage to reach the passenger door to open it before Ellie gets out, but Bianca is too fast for me, darting out of the backseat like her ass is on fire.

“What about my car?” Ellie questions as she unlocks the front door.

“I’ll get Spencer to run me up there, and I’ll drive it back for you.”

Ellie nods just as Bianca squeals. “Thirteen more followers! Ohemgee! This is freaking awesome.”

I watch as Ellie’s daughter bounds up the stairs toward her bedroom.

“Want a drink?” Ellie offers.

“Water’s good.”

“I was thinking something stronger,” she says with a weak smile.

“This will blow over,” I assure her, stopping her before she can pass by me.

I gently hold her shoulders and peer down at her, studying her beautiful face. I can’t resist tipping her head up with my finger, forcing her to look at me. I feel like an ass for what I did, and I need to know she doesn’t hold it against me.

God, I want to kiss this woman so badly I can practically taste her. The way she’s looking at me says she won’t be completely opposed to the idea, but I know better than to push it right now. There will be plenty of time for that. Later.

Much later.

As in, definitely not tonight.

“I’m just a little surprised by it, I guess.” Ellie breaks free of my hold and heads for the kitchen. “I get it. You’re famous. People love you. They want to know everything that’s going on with you, but I wasn’t expecting them to be so up in my business.”

I smile, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. I find it amusing that Ellie can say all of that and still be confused by the aggressive reporters. They report on the game, it’s what they get paid to do, but it’s the details of the players’ lives that they want in on. If they can get the inside scoop—not simply what everyone else who watched the game saw—they have a leg up.

I should’ve kept my damn mouth shut. Or at least given Ellie a heads-up beforehand.

When Ellie hands over a bottle of water, I thank her, continuing to watch as she moves around the kitchen. She looks nervous.

She stops suddenly and peers back at me. “Is it always like that?”

“Always like what?” I ask after gulping down half the bottle.

“The press? Are they usually that pushy?” She heads to the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of wine. “I mean, I’ve seen them talk over each other often, but only with players, not with … others.”

I shrug. “I make a point to only talk about the game.”

“Except tonight?” Ellie pauses as she reaches to get a glass from the rack above the sink.

“Except tonight,” I agree. I still don’t know what came over me, but for some stupid reason I wanted the world to know that she is mine. Even if she really isn’t. It’s a selfish move, but one I won’t regret just yet.

I will have to find a way to keep her out of the spotlight as best I can. If for no other reason than for Bianca’s sake. I know Ellie can handle herself, but I definitely don’t want Bianca to get caught up in it. That’s the only thing I’m bothered by. The fact that I didn’t put Bianca first irks the shit out of me. If I want Ellie in my life, I know I have to put Bianca first, as well.

Ellie takes a sip of her drink, then stops to look at me.

“That one reporter asked if you’d ever put your hands on me out of anger.” Her eyebrows lift. “Why are they still harping on that?”

Shit.

I knew she’d pick up on that one though I’d hoped to be lucky enough that she hadn’t heard. Considering all the shit that went down with that woman and her false accusations, I figure that’s going to be a question Ellie hears often.

Still, I want to shield her from it. It’s bullshit—the woman even admitted it—yet it somehow manages to surround me.

“Just ignore them. It’s in the past,” I mumble, finishing off the rest of my water before taking the empty bottle to the recycle bin.

“I think it’s safe to say that’s a lie.”

It isn’t really a lie—it is in the past—but I don’t want to get into it with Ellie right now. Talking about that crazy bitch who came out of the woodwork and attempted to sabotage me for no f*cking reason is a surefire way to piss me off, and I’m still riding the high from our win tonight.

“If you’ll give me your keys, I’ll run down Spencer and go get your car for you,” I offer.

Ellie doesn’t look pleased by my subject change, but at the moment, it’s the only thing I know to do.

I do not want to talk about this.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.