Page 56 of Pucking Them
It’s his as much as it is mine or Robyn’s.
There is also a raspiness to Shay’s voice, which I know comes from crying for hours.
Robyn and I instantly sit up.
Robyn holds out her arms. “Always. The bed’s cold without my limpet.”
Shay smiles but it’s smaller and more forced than normal. “Come on, Dee. We’re needed for cuddling duties.”
I study Shay.
He is wearing a simple, creased black t-shirt and joggers. He appears as exhausted as I expected.
There is no way he slept last night.
His tousled hair falls over his face. Shadows are deep under his eyes. The bruise on his cheek has darkened to purple. He is walking stiffly, which means that he is still hurting from the brutality of the game yesterday.
Damn Wilder.
Damn the Peninsula Daily News for running this story.
Was it in revenge for prosecuting Melanie, the journalist there who had an affair with Wilder?
I dart Robyn a hurried look.
Did Wilder pull his journalistic connections at the newspaper to run this cruel story into Shay’s background to punish Robyn and me, as much as to win the Conference Finals?
My stomach lurches.
Is this my fault?
I blink away unexpected tears.
Then I hold open my arms, suddenly needing to hold my sub and feel for myself that he is safe.
Shay looks between us, before his shattered expression softens. “Look how popular I am.”
Robyn’s lips quirk up. “Get used to it.”
Shay moves more slowly than his usual hyper Tigger bounce because of the pain in his hip and shoulder, but still climbs eagerly onto the bed, squirming to fit between Robyn and me.
Just where he belongs.
He kisses Robyn and then me.
Then I notice Eden, who is standing silently in the shadows of the doorway.
My brow furrows.
Why isn’t he coming in?
“I need my best PA,” I say, casually. “It’s almost time for breakfast and then work. We can’t be late.”
That gets Eden moving.
He marches to sit on the edge of the bed, clutching the Guide to his chest.
He still doesn’t talk.
