Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 122514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Me: Don’t worry about me. How bad are you?
Reese: Getting through it. See you soon.
Reese: Love you.
Fuck the throat. A tear escaped my eyelid. I flicked it away.
Me: Love you back.
Reese: Feels good to type that.
Me: Yes, it does.
He didn’t text again. Putting my phone away, all eyes were on me.
A sad smile stretched over Marie’s face. “How’s he doing?”
I lifted a shoulder up. “Said he got questions about me.”
Stan swore under his breath. “I was hoping they’d hold off considering he lost his brother. Okay. That’s it then. We need to go.”
Hugs were done at the door. I hugged Trent, even Dwayne.
Trent murmured in my ear before letting me go, “Please reach out if you need anything. I travel a lot for my job. It’s very easy for me to book a gig in Washington, just saying.”
I stepped back, flicking him on the shoulder. “Go back and be with your woman. I like Lauren.”
“She likes you too. And maybe I will.”
He took Dwayne then, a hand on his arm as the guy was weaving all around people. With another wave over his shoulder, Trent and Dwayne went around the corner. We went the other way, and like before, I just followed Stan where he was going. It was a myriad of cement steps and back doors. Marie went with us, all the way to the parking area.
I wasn’t ready for the attention, but we were getting it. As soon as we stepped out the last door, a woman with a camera was there. “Stan! How’s Reese doing? Is that his girlfriend?”
Marie came to my other side, draping a sweatshirt over me and I tugged down the hood. This felt weird, adopting Reese’s method of camouflage. A few months ago, I only had a cheating ex and a pervy grandpa in my life. That’d been it.
I paused in my thoughts as we walked down toward a row of SUVs waiting.
Breaking at one, Marie gave me a tight squeeze. “Stan has my number, but I got yours from him. Hope that’s okay? I’m going to text you, see if you need anything. And I’ll reach out once we get to Seattle in the morning.”
Another squeeze, then she was off and getting into one of the other vehicles.
Stan had opened the door to the one we stood by, and I climbed in. He leaned in. The reporters had remained at the exit, but there were other people standing around, and a couple had their phones pointed at us. He blocked their view, his hands on both sides of the door. “I’m going to get in the front with the driver. Reese is heading out now. Do you need anything while I’m here? I can grab a water or anything else?”
My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten all day, but I shook my head. “I’m good.”
I just wanted Reese.
He dipped his head down and stood back, shutting the door. He climbed into the front a second later, then we waited. The vehicle was silent, even the driver. Then a whole surge of activity happened toward the front. Lights were flashing, and out strolled a few of the players.
Garth Carzoni.
Lestroy.
Beau Michems.
Then Juan, and following him: Reese.
Everything raised a whole octave at Reese’s appearance, but he walked through, ignoring everyone. Juan waited, and Reese bumped the side of his fist against his. Both separated. Juan went to where Marie was waiting, and Reese came to us.
He got in, tossing his bag in the back before sliding next to me. The door was shut, and he reached for my hand, entwining our hands. The SUV started, and within a minute, we were pulling away from the arena.
• • •
Life was a whirlwind after that.
We flew back to Washington that night. Both his parents were already checked into their respective facilities by the time we landed, and as Reese had said, they attended Roman’s funeral. It was an emotional day for all of them. I sat beside Reese, holding his hand, and that night, I held him in my arms.
He was peppering kisses up my spine, his hand shifting over my hip as he rolled me to look at me. He was looming above me, resting on an arm to hold himself up.
The stark need in his eyes had me biting back tears. He’d had that look quite frequently this weekend, and I slid my hands up his arms, then moved one around his neck, going up into his hair and I fisted it there, pulling him down to me.
His mouth met mine. A soft graze. Loving.
It made me ache, but this time it wasn’t a body ache. It was a soul ache. He brought me to life, and I just wanted to do the same for him now. I wanted to push all his haunts away.
He lifted his head. “What’s wrong?”