CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
PAIGE
“You have to go,” I whispered to Beaux. Even though I’d told him I wanted to go to his house when I left the hospital, I’d then remembered it was Saturday.
He was supposed to be getting on a plane for an away game.
He scowled at me. “I’m not going. And I’m not playing. You’re nuts if you think I’m leaving you right now.”
I scanned the room. Jaxon had followed us home from the hospital. Melanie and my dad were there. Mike and two other mechanics, Lance and Killian, had come over to welcome me home.
People who cared about me and would protect me, surrounded me.
Nothing would happen, especially with Hannah not being alive, which was still something I was trying not to think about.
“You have to,” I said, my voice firmer. “I’m not having you miss a game when it’s not necessary.” He opened his mouth but I held up my hand. “Please. Do this for me. I’ll be here resting all weekend, just like the doctor ordered, and when you get back tomorrow, I’ll be waiting for you at your place.”
He lost his scowl and grinned mischievously. “Our place.”
“What?”
“Our place. You said my house was your home, so if I agree to go play this game, you agree to move in with me.”
A rush of warmth flooded my veins and it had nothing to do with the blanket covering me or his body so close to mine. We were on the couch, but there were a half-dozen people in the room. A quick scan told me none of them were even pretending not to be listening to this.
“You’re blackmailing me into moving in with you? Now?” My brows rose.
“No. I’m using all the plays at my disposal.” His grin died and his face went serious. “I love you, Paige. I want you there. Everything feels right when you’re in my home. Move in with me.”
Tears blurred my vision and I didn’t bother blinking them away.
He was right. When Beaux showed up at the hospital, all I’d wanted was him. I wanted to be surrounded by him. And with everything my dad had already shared with me about his future plans, there was nothing holding me back.
Not anymore.
“Okay,” I whispered. My fingers slid to his neck, back into his hair. His head fell forward until our lips brushed against each other’s. “I’ll move in with you.”
“And I’ll kiss you properly when your dad isn’t staring us down and we don’t have an audience.”
I laughed against his mouth and he kissed me anyway. It was short and sweet, given the audience, but it still left my breathless. I forgot anyone else was in the room until Melanie whooped and hollered, “Woo-hoo! This calls for champagne!”
***
The Rough Rider’s lost.
I watched the game from my living room in Beaux’s townhome with Dad, Melanie, Shannon, and Mike.
When I agreed to move in with him Saturday, he demanded I pack up and get moved in so he could come home to me, to our home, after he returned from the game. The men from the garage came and moved everything over as I packed my clothes and personal things. But I stayed the night at my dad’s house.
Sunday morning, Jaxon came over and loaded me into his Explorer while everyone else followed us to Beaux’s or met us there.
He was still hanging close even though when he showed up early Sunday morning, he’d said he had one of his men go to Hannah’s apartment. They’d found dozens more photos of Beaux and I together and apart. He said they also found three DVDs, the same kind that had been in the garage. I suspected it wasn’t all they found, but I didn’t ask more questions.
I knew all I needed to know.
They turned around and called Raleigh PD, gave them all the evidence, and Agent Spellman had stopped by shortly after to talk with me about the events that occurred.
Beaux hadn’t been there to hold me while I cried through the story, reliving the fear I’d felt when I realized Hannah wanted to hurt me. But my dad held one hand, Melanie held the other, and even though Beaux wasn’t there, I was still thinking of him, getting through it. When I was done, Agent Spellman handed me his card and told me to call him if I remembered or thought of anything else. The PD would continue investigating but considering it seemed pretty cut and dry that Hannah had been the person sending the notes, I doubted anything would come of it.
I tried, again, to push it all out of my mind. I didn’t know what to think of Hannah, how she’d tried not just to hurt me, but kill me, and willing to take her own life in the process.
I’d deal with it someday when I wasn’t still wearing a brace on my arm, and hearing the screeching of a car slamming through metal in my dreams.
Then the game started, and with each passing quarter, Shannon and I grew exponentially more frustrated. The offense struggled to move the ball. The defense couldn’t stop Seattle’s running game.
In the end, Seattle won twenty-one to six, our only points coming from two, fifty-yard field goals. Beaux left the game looking dejected and I started planning how to help him feel better.
“Well, that sucked,” Shannon said, slumping into the couch next to me. “Oliver’s going to be one grumpy man when he gets home tonight.”
She didn’t sound that upset about Oliver’s grumpiness. From the time I’d spent with them, I figured even if Oliver was upset about the game, one look at his fiancée and he’d turn into a sweetheart.
“How does Beaux take losses?” I asked. It was their first loss of the season. I hadn’t been around him after one and even after a win he always finds a way he or the team can improve.
“Like he takes everything else.”
Figured. Nothing ruffled the guy, except for me.
“Well, that was fun,” my dad said. “But I need to head back home. Lots to do and lots to start packing up.”
Over the weekend, Dad and I had talked more about his decisions and while they still made me uncomfortable, I now understood them.
This was what he wanted for me. A life with friends and a guy who adored me. I not only wanted it, I’d do whatever I had to keep it.
“I’ll see you soon,” Melanie said, coming to where I was resting on the couch. My back was sore, and while I didn’t have a concussion, my head occasionally throbbed. The worst injury was my sprained wrist, and I was able to handle all of the injuries with Advil. She kissed me on the cheek and stood up. “Call me if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah,” she grinned and winked. “Once that hunk of yours gets home, I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”
My cheeks burned. My dad was in the room for crying out loud. “Go away.” I mock glared, and even that was pointless. When Melanie was around, I was almost always laughing and that time was no different.
“I’m going, I’m going. Ready Sam?” She waited until he hobbled over to her, blowing me a kiss so he didn’t have to maneuver around the coffee table with his crutches. “Ready Freddy. Love you, darling.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
Everyone said their goodbyes, clearing out, and leaving me alone with Jaxon. He turned the television station to another football game and I flipped my phone in my hand, debating whether or not to text Beaux.
I always congratulated him after a game, but I didn’t want to say anything to upset him.
I settled on the one thing I knew would make him smile.
I love you.
“You can take off,” I said to Jaxon after I sent the text.
“Not until Beaux’s here.” He’d crossed his arms over his chest on the chair at the other end of the couch, kicked up his feet on the coffee table. Despite his relaxed posture, I knew he was still alert.
It wasn’t necessary. Hannah was gone as gone could get.
Jaxon’s presence still comforted me like a thick blanket.
“Thanks, Jaxon. You’re the best.”
He arched a brow. “No Rambo?”
“I thought you hated it.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “It was starting to grow on me.”
My phone buzzed in my hand and I smiled at Beaux’s response. Love you too. Heading to plane now. Be home late.
Home. I couldn’t stop the smile from splitting my cheeks so wide they ached.
They’d played an early game but with the time change, he still wouldn’t get home until after eleven.
That meant eight more hours alone with only Jaxon.
My fingers flew across the keypad. I’ll be here, in OUR bed. Naked and ready for you.
His response was almost instant. Jesus. Now I have a fucking hard-on and I’m sitting next to Quinten.
A laugh burst from my throat. Better not let him touch what’s mine.
Woman.
I could practically hear his sexy growl.
Still laughing, I turned to Jaxon. “So, Rambo. What do you think of Melanie?”
That growl, I definitely heard.