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“Good morning, peaches.” I finally stop turning us, banding my arms tight around her little body.
If she cares that I’m covered in grass, sweat, and hard plastic pads, I can’t tell. Her legs and arms twine around me as far as they can. She leans back, her beautiful face knocking the wind right out of my chest. Wide, blue eyes sparkle fondly while she smiles my favorite goofy grin. “Thank you for my sunglasses, big guy.”
My heart expands when I spot the orange hearts nestled in her hair. I knew she’d like them. And I’m fucking hopeless with clothes. Although…
“I think we need to get you matching panties,” I muse.
Her smile widens. “Only if you get some orange-heart briefs to wear for games.”
Oh fuck yeah. That’s a great idea. I’m about to agree to our deal when Declan snarls, “Give her to me.”
Meg and I both turn; me scowling, her casting him a quelling look. Until we see his face.
The blue in his eyes is down to a thin ring, edged out by his expanding pupils. His jaw grinds, ticking. For one horrifying second, I think he’s snapping into rut. Then I see the way he watches Meg’s face, reading her emotions. He’s still fully in control. He’s just…
Wild.
I wait for Meg to give me a little nod before handing her over, placing her in Dec’s waiting arms bridal-style. The second he has her, he forgets the rest of us are there, except to mutter, “Watch my back.”
Ronan’s already on it, charging around our pack and heading for the team and Coach. He’ll head them all off, but Archer follows just in case.
I step up, facing the field, shoulder-to-shoulder with Dec, my eyes scanning behind him, warning off anyone who might try to approach us. This seems important—it’s the first time he’s ever wanted a moment with Meg—and I don’t want one of these other asshats to ruin it.
Once I see Ronan pointing to the training center and Coach’s jerky nod of agreement, I relax. The other guys are going to go to condition. The field starts to clear while they make their way to the tunnel on the opposite side of the stadium.
All except the kicker, DeLuca, and his beta ball boy. He has to stay out here to practice kicks through the up-rights, but I’m unbothered. The rookie is a good kid. And he isn’t even looking at my girl.
Declan is.
He’s holding her in his arms, and just… staring at her.
His jaw pops while he grinds his teeth, eyes narrowing slightly while they rove over her whole body, right down to the chunky shoes dangling off her dainty ankles.
It’s insane how different all of our relationships with the same woman are. When I think about how she’s possibly juggling all four, my head spins.
For me, she’s a gorgeous sunbeam. Fun, wily, warm. Effortlessly supportive and reassuring when I need it. Even when I don’t know I need it.
With Ronan, it’s the opposite. He supports her. Directs her. He seems to need it, that dominance of his demanding her surrender. And she gives it to him willingly.
Then there’s Arch, who’s been dying for someone to take care of. I think he craves softness. Connection. She’s definitely all of that with a side of sweet sex appeal. After last night, I think we all know exactly how gone he is.
All of us, really.
Including Dec.
For fuck’s sake, the guy gave himself and Archer a dual handy just because she suggested it. That’s the closest to being in love I’ve ever seen the knot-for-brains.
But he’s stubborn.
But so is Meg.
He glares at her, and she glowers back, her own scowl tinged with an amusing dash of what now asshole? Not at all intimidated, the way she might be with Ronan.
No, for Dec, she’s in charge.
And he hates it.
Or, maybe, he hates that he doesn’t hate it. I can’t tell. But he watches her like she’s the air he breathes—air that slowly poisons him.
