Chapter 15
Fifteen
Gray
“Right,” I mutter, dropping the bags on the floor and moving close to Faye, settling my hand on the small of her back.
She doesn’t react to my touch, doesn’t lean back into it like she had just a few minutes before.
Nope.
Right now she’s trembling, her gaze having dropped to the floor, her uninjured hand clenched together so tightly it’s turning bright red.
“Time to go,” I order my teammates and Kailey and Luna and Bri, sliding my hand to the side, wrapping it around Faye’s middle.
It’s too much touching when I hardly know her, and it’s certainly giving the guys too much shit to gossip about, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
Not when Faye is shaking.
Not when she’s holding herself so fiercely it’s like she’s going to break apart with the softest breeze.
I step closer, say louder when the conversation doesn’t dim, when it, in fact, grows louder, the chaotic back-and-forth typical of my friends.
But Faye’s shy.
And she’s been through too much, not just over the last couple of days, but throughout her life.
And she needs to fucking rest.
“Time to go.”
It’s as loud as I dare, not wanting to startle Faye again, but the hooligans around me don’t hear it.
None except Kailey, that is.
Her eyes come to mine then drift down and I know she sees in Faye what I’m seeing and feeling because she moves to Smitty’s side, lifts on tiptoe and murmurs something in his ear.
He stops mid-sentence—or really, mid-shit-giving of Leo—and flicks his stare toward me and Faye.
Then he looks down at Kailey and nods.
“Time to go,” he booms.
Faye jumps and I tighten my arm around her middle, drawing her back against me.
Aiden gives me a knowing look but doesn’t comment as he snags Luna’s hand and says, “We’ll catch up with you two later.”
“But I don’t—”
“Later, tiny tornado,” he says more firmly.
Luna hesitates. Then nods, leaving without further protest.
Aiden doesn’t comment—verbally, anyway—just flicks his gaze to the woman in my arms, his mouth hitching up, then he’s out the door, Bri following. Leo and Ryan nod at me and make short work of getting the fuck out.
Assholes.
But the good kind.
Smitty’s gaze locks with mine and he kisses the top of Kailey’s head, voice pitched to quiet. “Meet you at the car, little bird.”
She touches his jaw, fingers sliding through the bristles of his beard.
Then she moves close to Faye. “Nice to meet you,” she says, gently squeezing Faye’s arm. A wave in my direction as she slips away.
Leaving us with just Smitty.
I open my mouth because fuck if this man is going startle Faye again.
But he doesn’t frighten Faye by speaking loudly. He doesn’t even touch her.
Instead, he crouches a little—or really, a lot—to meet her eyes. “See you around, Faye,” he murmurs.
Yup. Smitty is murmuring.
Never thought I’d see the day.
Faye manages a nod and I watch the jerky movement radiate through Smitty, know it’s doing the same thing to him that it does to me—triggering all sorts of Me man. Me protect. caveman bullshit.
But I don’t rein it in.
Just dip my head to the door, silently telling my teammate to not let it hit him in the ass on the way out.
His mouth twitches, but he follows the silent order and beats it, closing the door behind him.
I make sure Faye is steady before stepping back from her and flicking the lock.
Then I shift closer again, study her face.
She exhales, lifting a shaking hand, pushing her hair away from her hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I-uh…that was really nice of them. I, um, shouldn’t have—” Teeth press into her bottom lip. “I’m not used to…” Her gaze slides to the side. “I’m not used to all of that.”
Because she’s alone.
My heart convulses and I grind my teeth together.
Because that thought makes me want to punch something.
But I need my hands for the game tonight.
A game I need to start thinking about.
Instead of a woman I barely know, who I want to keep close, who I need to learn, who I can’t seem to let go even though there are far too many complications.
She’s my neighbor. She’s soft and shy and dealing with trauma I’m not equipped to handle.
And she’s alone. And…I’m me. The interest is there, the beginning of an obsession.
It’s not going to go away, not for a good long time.
Fuck, look how long it took me to get my shit together with Courtney.
And God, my fucking ex. I say I’m done, but history has a way of repeating itself, old habits taking over…
Then there are my teammates who will get attached and interfere and give me shit I don’t need and…
It’s all wrong.
Faye’s all wrong for me.
But I know myself well enough to know I’m still going to claim her as my own, anyway.
Even if I’m wrong for her too.
“Come on,” I say, when she opens her mouth again, probably to apologize for no reason again.
I don’t have time to sit in my feelings right now. Faye needs me.
“Wh-what?”
“I’m starving,” I tell her, unable to resist taking her hand after I bend and snag a few of the bags from the floor. The touch of her palm against mine soothes some part ragged part of me, and when her soft fingers lightly stroke along the back of my hand, I think about them stroking other places.
Harder places.
Focus, Gray.
Food first.
But I know if I offer to cook her something she’ll turn me down, tell me she’s fine. But I’m hungry and she’s eaten—well, in truth—she’s hardly eaten only shitty hospital food over the last day and a half.
She needs real food.
Then she needs rest.
And maybe, later, she needs to watch a hockey game.
Tension finally sliding from my shoulders, I start down the hall, dump the bags on the counter, and pull out the container that Bri brought.
Cookies.
Fucking good ones with a gooey salted caramel center and chocolate chunks and flecks of sea salt on top.
Bri works at Molly’s Bakery, and she’s definitely picked up more than a few tips and tricks from the bakery’s namesake.
“Here,” I say, popping off the lid and handing Faye a cookie the size of my hand.
“Um…”
“Salted caramel with milk chocolate chips,” I tell her. “Bri made them.”
I watch the nerves leave her and secure another bit of information about Faye as she brings the cookie up to her nose, inhales deeply.
She really loves baked goods.
And baking, I remember.
I lost Nana’s banana bread recipe.
I can’t remember if her banana bread calls for one egg or two.
“Bri made these?”
I nod as I take a huge bite of my own cookie, the delicious mix of salt and sweet hitting my tongue in an explosion of flavor. The tension in my shoulders eases when she takes her own bite, murmurs through it, “They’re really good.”
“They sure are,” I agree as I head to the fridge, snagging the ingredients for my favorite pregame meal—chicken breast, grilled peppers…and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Don’t judge.
When I turn back with my arms full of food, I see she’s devoured half the cookie.
And that she has crumbs on her bottom lip.
I move before I’m really thinking, setting the food down and reaching out…
Then freezing before I actually make contact.
Her lips part, eyes going wide, pink creeping into her cheeks.
I close the final inch between us, brush them away. Then because I can’t stop myself, I shift closer, cupping her jaw, my fingertips sliding into the silk of her hair.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
Our faces are so close I feel the words on my skin.
I don’t know what I’m doing.
Or I do, but I’m not ready to admit it out loud.
Because it’s wrong—
But nothing this wrong has ever felt so right.
“Bri works at Molly’s bakery,” I say going for distraction.
It works.
“Really?” Another puff of air on my lips and the spark of excitement in Faye’s eyes has me shifting even closer. “I love Molly’s! I swear, their seasonal peaches and cream muffins are so delicious they should be illegal. Then they top them with that—”
“—streusel,” I finish, having devoured a peach muffin—or several dozen—myself.
“I really love that streusel.” She smiles. “I wish they sold it by itself. I’ve tried to replicate it dozens of times but I can never quite figure out the correct combination of spices.”
“Maybe Bri would teach you.”
Faye’s eyes widen. “You think she might?”
“I think I can ask,” I tell her. “And that Bri would really love to teach you. She’s…well, she’s spent too much time alone too.”
A wave of emotion across Faye’s face, warming her brown eyes, flushing her cheeks, plumping those pink lips.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”