Page 167 of Studs Up
He stared at me.
“Really?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“You have no fucking clue, do you?”
“No, but it’s what I would do.”
“I’m not sure channeling the biggest asshole in the league is going to go down well in the Rover locker room.”
“I have no idea why that would be a problem.”
“Fuck you,” he snorted and leaned forward until his gray eyes were level with mine. “Thank you.”
“Always, sweetheart.”
His eyes closed for a moment and then opened brighter than before.
“I love that,” he whispered. I leaned closer over the consul.
“Good because you’ll hear it for the rest of your life.”
His beautiful smile spread across his lips. I smiled back.
He leaned in, and in the light of day, he kissed me. It wasn’t in the middle of a farmers market kiss or out at dinner kiss. It was what he was comfortable with as we stepped into this new future together. He kept it chaste, which was wise because anything more would have me googling the nearest pay by the hour hotel.
Holden fortified himself with a deep breath and got out. I rolled down the window and admired his ass as he walked away.
“Bye, honey,” I waved from the car. “Have a good day at work.” He turned around to flip me off.
He was happy and free, and that was wonderful. But goddamn, it was going to be a long year if they won the whole fucking thing.
I parked in front of the house and stood on the porch for a long time. He wouldn’t be able to come back here. Not having all the memories we had and knowing how deeply they had been violated. It even caused me to pause before I put my hand on the doorknob.
The police and the FBI searched the house and found the cameras. I had made it abundantly clear if I returned and a single leaf had fallen from one of his plants, I’d sue the ever loving fuck out of them.
Things had been moved around, and the place had lost its soft and cozy atmosphere. Not much had actually changed, but it was the knowledge. It made the anger burn hot inside and at the edges of my eyes.
We had been so close to losing each other. There were a lot of ‘what ifs’ floating around, and all of them could have led to more disaster. But if I hadn’t decided to quietly come out in the locker room, Marcel wouldn’t have flown off the handle and gone after Holden.
If it had taken too long to discover who was torturing him, the damage done to us might have been irreparable. That hurt. Just that thought caused more pain than all of it put together.
The sooner we were done with this house, the better.
Holden
Walking into the locker room was surreal. Everyone in that room had been treated to a front row viewing of my nightmare and my love life in detail.
In true Charlemagne fashion, he hugged me, welcomed me back, and then set me down. After that, it was just normal. Normal greetings and hellos. It was all just normal.
No one made a big deal about it, and no one made any comments about my sexuality. There was some ribbing about being with Nolan, but that was to be expected. I was sleeping with a man that many believed didn’t have a heart. I would never tell them how big his heart actually was.
I put in extra hours until Santos ordered me out.
“Don’t overdo it,” he grunted and shooed me out of the training room.
Nolan was leaning against his car in the parking lot when I walked out. Crossed arms and surly glare and all. Perfect. Beautiful. The team flipped him off, and he flipped them off right back.
