Chapter 48 Murphy
MURPHY
Murphy leaned back just far enough to take her in. It felt like someone had taken a hundred-pound weight off his shoulders. Hillary sat there, eyes still wet, but softer, open in a way he’d only dreamed of.
He couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at his mouth. She mirrored it, tentative at first, then real. And God, she was beautiful when she let herself just be.
Without thinking, he cupped her face and kissed her again, a steady, certain kiss that tasted like a new beginning.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, and he whispered, “This feels better, doesn’t it?”
Her nod brushed his cheek.
Murphy laughed quietly, a warm rumble in his chest. “I feel like I can finally breathe again.” He kissed her once more, quick but sure, then leaned back enough to study her face. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”
Finn, curled loyally at their feet, gave a happy sigh as if he agreed.
Her fingers slipped under the hem of his T-shirt, skating over his abs, up along the ridges of his chest. He shivered, leaning into her touch, his own hands roaming over her waist and hips like he’d been starved for her.
Then she tugged the shirt higher, baring his torso to the glow of her living room lamp. She froze.
“Holy shit, Murphy.”
He blinked, cocking his head in confusion. “What?”
“You got jacked.” Her voice was somewhere between awe and disbelief, eyes wide as she took him in. “I mean, you’ve always been muscular, obviously, but this—” she gestured at his chest and shoulders, then gave his arm a squeeze, “this is a whole other level.”
He huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess that’s what happens when you spend every spare second in the gym.”
The truth hit him as he said it. All those extra practices, the late nights in the weight room, the punishing workouts he’d forced himself through after Christmas… he hadn’t realized until now how much it had reshaped him.
Her palm pressed flat against his stomach, slow and deliberate. “You look . . . ” She trailed off, biting her lip like she wasn’t sure if she should finish.
“Like a guy who’s been trying too hard?” he offered with a crooked grin.
Her eyes softened. “Like someone who doesn’t even realize how incredible he is.”
Murphy’s breath caught, the weight of her words sinking deeper than her touch. And for once, instead of deflecting with a joke, he just leaned in and kissed her.
He kissed her slowly, lingering until he finally pulled back just enough to breathe.
“Truth is, when we weren’t talking, I was pushing myself too hard.
I thought if I just worked harder, skated faster, lifted more—” He shrugged, eyes dropping to the floor.
“Maybe it would quiet everything in my head.”
Her hand stilled against his chest, her expression faltering.
“But then I got Finn.” His mouth curved, small and soft. “And suddenly I had to come home. Had to feed him, walk him, play with him. Couldn’t stay in the gym till midnight because he needed me. He grounded me, in a way.”
He looked back up at her then, and the sheen in her eyes twisted something inside him.
Her face had fallen, guilt swimming in her gaze. She traced her thumb absently over his skin, like she couldn’t decide whether to hold him closer or let go.
“You put yourself through that because of me,” she whispered, the words breaking.
Murphy reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Because I missed you,” he corrected gently. “Because losing you hurt more than anything I’d ever felt. The workouts were just noise. Finn gave me something better. Something real to pour into.”
He smiled faintly. “But don’t think for a second you’re to blame for all that, Hill. I made my choices.”
Hillary’s lips were soft and insistent beneath his, her hands sliding beneath his shirt, nails grazing his skin.
Murphy groaned into her mouth and tugged her closer, shifting until her back hit the couch cushions.
Her legs parted easily, pulling him down with her, and the kiss turned hot and hungry.
Her breath hitched as his mouth left hers to trail down her neck. “Murphy,” she whispered, a plea and a warning all at once.
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, pupils blown wide. She smoothed her thumb over his jaw, steadying herself. “Stay tonight,” she murmured, voice low but certain.
The words sent a thrill straight through him. His answer was already forming when—
Bark!
They both froze.
Woof! Woof!
Finn, apparently deciding he’d been ignored too long, bounded up from his dog bed and wedged himself between the couch and Murphy’s legs. Tail wagging furiously, tongue lolling out, he barked again like a furry alarm clock.
Hillary burst into laughter, burying her face in Murphy’s chest as he groaned.
“Cockblocked by my own dog,” he muttered, glaring down at Finn, who thumped his tail like he’d won.
Still laughing, Hillary tilted her head up, eyes sparkling. “Guess he’s not ready for you to stay over yet.”
Murphy kissed her anyway, quick and deep, then whispered against her lips, “We’ll see about that.”
Murphy sighed, pressing one more kiss to her lips before pulling back. “As much as I want to stay, I didn’t bring any of Finn’s stuff for overnight. And I really do need to get some rest if I’m gonna be worth a damn tomorrow.”
Her disappointment flickered across her face, and he caught it. He brushed his thumb along her jaw.
“After the game,” he promised. “Come over. Bring a change of clothes. Let’s actually be together for a night.”
Her chest tightened, but she managed a small, shaky smile. “How are you so sure everything will work out?”
“Not sure,” he said, kissing her again, softer this time. “Just sure I want you there.”
Finn barked like he was seconding the idea, and Murphy laughed, grabbing the leash. “See? Even he agrees.”
They stood in her doorway far longer than either one of them meant to.
Murphy had Finn’s leash looped in his hand, jacket half-zipped, but every time he shifted toward leaving, Hillary would tilt her face up at him, and he’d lean down to steal another kiss. Soft ones, quick ones, long ones that made Finn huff impatiently at their feet.
“You really should go,” she whispered against his mouth, though her fingers stayed tangled in the fabric of his t-shirt.
“I know.” He kissed her again anyway. “I don’t want to.”
Her laugh was shaky, betraying more than she wanted to, and it made his chest ache in the best way. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re beautiful,” he countered, brushing a thumb over her cheek like he was memorizing her all over again.
Finally, with a groan that was half frustration, half resolve, he forced himself to step back. He tugged on Finn’s leash, gave her one last look—the kind that said if you asked me to stay, I would—and then he slipped out into the night.
By the time he slid into the driver’s seat, Finn curling up in the passenger side like he belonged there, Murphy let himself smile. Not the bright, easy grin he gave the world, but the smaller, cautious one he only let out when he really meant it.
Maybe—just maybe—they were finding their way back.