Page 87 of Slapshot Bride

“H-how long have you been there?”

“Barely a minute. Just came to check on you. I’m sorry if…”

I force a smile, but my chest constricts.

I know it’ll be over soon—this comfort.

I need to be out of here before it blows over. He’s done enough, and it’s time for me to stand for myself.

“It’s fine.” I rise and cover the distance.

“How was it?”

I’m once again reminded of the call.

He lifts me until my legs are wrapped around his hips, and starts heading toward the bedroom.

“I told her the truth. Told her I was done with him. She’s yet to accept, but I hope that with time, she will. They all will.”

“And you? Are you okay?”

He helps me onto the bed, then braces himself on either side of me, searching my face.

I can't trust my voice. If I answer, he'll hear everything I'm trying so hard to hide. So I just nod.

Before he has a chance to read too much into my silence, I reach up and kiss him.

It does the trick.

He kisses me back, then pulls me close as we settle beneath the covers.

Wrapped tightly in his arms, he falls asleep faster than usual.

I don't blame him. It's been one hell of a day.

Practice. Preston. And carrying me through all of it.

Yet, I stay awake, unable to fully process what Preston has in store.

17

EASTON

In Her Element

There aren't many things I'd thank Preston fucking Sinclair for.

Showing up at my house yesterday might actually be one of them.

At least the asshole gave me an excuse to get my woman out of the house.

The way Riley's face lit up the second I told her I had a surprise planned almost makes me want to thank him.

Almost.

Then I remember it's Preston Sinclair.

He doesn't deserve my gratitude. He deserves a punch in the face.