ENEMIES(91)

Some antiseptic, dressings. His hands would be okay.

I ran a hand down the side of his face, smoothing his hair back. “You’re going to be so tired for tomorrow.”

“I don’t give a fuck about how tired I am,” he grated out. His eyes flashing hot and fierce.

“I do.”

He grasped my hand before it would’ve fallen away. “I don’t have words for you right now. Colby sent me the article. I was sleeping. I didn’t hear my phone go off, so he called me. I was starting to chew him out, but he told me to stuff it and check my texts. Said I would want to know as soon as possible. He was right. I read that article and the next thing I know, I’m in my truck, heading over here. I don’t remember leaving the house, or the drive over. I was just here. I was in a blind panic. If you got hurt? If you were taken away from me?” His voice cracked.

“Stop. Sssshhh.”

“If anything had happened to you.” He cut himself off. “Something already did happen to you.” He looked up, his eyes haunted. “If I was the cause for that…”

I shook my head, my thumb running over his mouth to silence him. I didn’t want to debate what had or hadn’t set off that guy. I didn’t even want to think his name. He’d already taken up too much time and energy between us. Tomorrow, I promised myself. Tomorrow we’d figure it out. We’d talk about it more, but not anymore.

I leaned down, my hair cascading around us and my lips met his.

I loved him. I knew it then.

“I’m fine. Everything’s fine,” I murmured against his lips.

He held onto me, framing my face, searching me. “I left you before. I gave you space. I’m done with that. Fuck whatever you think. Just fuck it. Fuck this enemies shit between us. That’s done. Got it? I’m not walking, not again. I can’t—”

I kissed him.

I silenced him this time.

It was me. It was my turn.

I didn’t hide. I let him see me. I let him feel me, and he was right. We were done with that. Then he tugged me down on his lap, and he rolled us over on the bed. When we fell asleep, he was still holding me and it was perfect.





Chapter Forty





STONE





I sat on the edge of the bed the next morning, actually just five hours later.

I needed to go. I needed to go to my home, start my day. I needed to head to the stadium. I needed to get ready. We had a game tonight, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t leave. My ass wouldn’t leave that fucking bed and I couldn’t stop watching her.

She needed sleep. Not me. I was fucking wired.

This asshole, some asshole, hurt my girl.

Because that’s what she was. Mine.

She was no one else’s and I should’ve shut that shit down long ago. I knew why she walked. I got it, and a part of me wondered if she was doing the right thing, but fuck that. No more. I was done staying away. I was done keeping quiet and not making her talk. We needed to talk. Talking. Shit. We barely talked. We fought, then we went to bed. That’s how we communicated, and I was trying to tell her all the ways I cared for her. I needed to show her, not just say the words, but she was asleep and I had to leave and do my job.

Except I couldn’t make myself leave her room. I couldn’t even get off the bed, and I needed to get off the bed. I’d be fined so damn much money if I didn’t show, but every cell in my body was screaming at me to curl back in her bed, pull her into my arms, and never let her go.

Never ever let her go again.

But, shit. I raked a hand through my hair.

I couldn’t do that. I was a professional. We played through everything. Wind, sleet, rain, pain, blood. We showed up. We played. We dominated.

He was dead. I was trying to tell myself. She was safe. I could leave, do my job, and scoop her back in my arms afterwards. Her. Me. Our bed. Yeah. It wasn’t my bed anymore. It was ours. She just didn’t know it.

Shit. Shit!

I had to go. I had to, but God, I didn’t want to go.

Moving around the room, I went to wash up before dressing, but I wasn’t going out her side way. Hell no. I went the other way, not expecting anyone to be up. I’d been in college, but I hadn’t partied like these guys. I rarely partied. I footballed. That was it. I did football, and if I wasn’t footballing, I was training to football or thinking about footballing. Football was my life. These guys, they were different. They were more normal. If they were planning on pro, they had one last year to get their shit together. But that wasn’t my issue.

Going up to the kitchen, I hadn’t expected anyone to be up.

Someone was up.

A girl was at the counter making toast. She turned, yawning, but seeing me, she shrieked. “Oh, my Jesus!” She pressed a hand to her heart, giving me a shaky smile. “I wasn’t expecting a guy, and then it’s a guy, but it’s not just any guy, it’s you, and yeah. Still getting used to seeing you around here.”

She was the nice one, the one Dusty liked. I was trying to remember her name.

“Nicole?”

“Yeah. Hi.” The toast popped up and she took one, waving at me before putting it on the plate and reaching for the butter. “I suppose you’re on your way out? How’s our girl doing downstairs? She seemed tired last night. I mean, more than usual considering how much she’s working.”