The Player | SPORTS ROMANCE | 18+

Chapter 24

SALVADORA DE LEON

Titus looked so broken and lost as he stared intently at his glass of wine instead of knocking it back like I had. In fact, I had already headed back into the house to pour myself another glass, but Titus was still yet to take a sip.

"You should have told me if you don't like red wine."

"No, I like red wine." I don't know who he was trying to prove his point to, but I watched in amusement as he took a large gulp of his wine and immediately pulled a face before swallowing the mouthful. "Okay. Maybe I'm not a huge fan of red wine, but alcohol is alcohol, I guess." He sighed, putting down the glass on the step next to his foot, still so much liquid left in the glass. I was tempted to pour it into my glass for a top up, but I didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

The last thing I wanted was for Titus Reyes to think that we were friends, because we were far from it. In fact, he was the closest thing I had to an enemy, but most people didn't have kids with their enemy. Though there wasn't anything remotely normal or typical about the situation we found ourselves in. Or rather, the situation that he had thrown in my face with his signature on a dotted line.

I watched as his eyes glazed over, staring at the tire of my car which probably didn't have as much air as it needed. There was no hint of mirth, smile, or charm on his face like there usually was. He wasn't oozing confidence and sexual prowess like he always did.

Instead, he resembled a broken shell of a man whose whole world crumbled around him. It was hard not to feel bad for a broken man. Especially one that hid it all behind a big smile, nearly fooling everyone.

That was ironic considering the way he had threatened to take my son away from me this morning.

The reminder only made me lift my walls, wanting to leave Titus out here to feel sorry for himself, but I couldn't bring myself to get up and leave. Not with there was someone sitting on my porch looking so sad and pathetic, clearly wallowing away in his own sorrows.

Even if that someone was the shithead, Titus Reyes.

I tried calling out to Titus a few times, but nothing. It was only when I snapped my fingers in his face that he blinked out of the daze he was in and turned to set his tear-filled chocolate brown orbs on me.

Tear-filled?

The infamous Titus Reyes was crying? On my porch? After everything that happened this morning?

Nothing was making sense today.

"Are you still with me, Titus?" I asked, ignoring his tears because I didn't know what to say to this man anymore.

My instincts were telling me to reach out and pull him into a hug, sensing that he could really do with one right now, but he was the enemy. He was trying to take my son away from me even though it was impossible for him. The fact that he had thrown his words in my face was enough for me to hate him forever, yet it was a struggle not to let his tears get to me.

I was really torn.

Titus blinked, hard. "Yes, sorry." He apologised. "I just got lost in my thoughts."

"So, what did you want to talk to me about? It's kind of cold out here." I wrapped my arms around myself now that I no longer had wine to keep me warm. Titus' glass, and the half-full bottle inside were tempting me, but I needed my head in the game if Titus wanted to have a talk.

"I'm still not going to let you into the house." I snorted, shutting that down quickly.

Titus pursed his lips but thankfully didn't comment further.