“And why the hell not?” Lexie asked. “I see no reason why you shouldn’t let Mitch go to his place right now and rip his balls from his body.”
Mitch nodded, Lexie voicing his thoughts exactly. Parker was going to pay for this, one way or another.
A small giggle bubbled from Berkley’s throat, presumably at the vision that conjured, but there was no mirth in it. “Lexie,” she said, turning to her friend. “No one is going to believe me, for starters. Second, it’s just not worth it. Nothing happened. I’m okay, if shaken up. I’m safe. All I want to do is curl up on the couch and watch Clueless.”
Mitch could get on board with some Alicia Silverstone action. “I love that movie,” he said quietly.
Berkley gave him a small, sad smile. “Me too. So let’s just forget about this and move on.”
Lexie appeared unconvinced, and Mitch waited to see what she would do. “Are you sure you don’t need anything from us? Like Mitch taking Parker’s head off?”
Berkley shook her head, and Mitch had to admit, he was disappointed. After what he’d just learned about his teammate, he was spoiling for a fight.
If it were up to him, Parker would already be in handcuffs, and from the murderous gleam in Lexie’s eye, he guessed she felt the same.
But it wasn’t up to them. This was Berkley’s call, and even though it went against everything Mitch stood for as a man and hockey player, he had to respect that.
But he would be keeping an extra close eye on Parker Graff from now on.
A shiver raced down his spine, and Mitch had an inkling that he was living one of those nights he would look back at and say, “That’s when it all changed.”
Berkley spoke again, pulling Mitch from his thoughts. “What I need from you both is to just sit with me and keep me company. I can’t be alone right now. That’s why I didn’t go home.”
“We can do that,” Mitch said quickly, willing to do whatever it took to make Berkley feel safe. Lexie raised an eyebrow at him, dubious.
Berkley’s grateful smile was the first real one he’d seen on her face since before he and Lexie had left her in Parker’s incapable, slimy hands.
Once Berkley was comfortable in and over-sized t-shirt and pair of sweatpants she rolled several times at the waist, they curled up together on the couch, marathoning early-2000s chick flicks into the wee hours of the morning. Berkley fell asleep with her head on his lap, feet on Lexie’s, and when she was out cold and snoring, Lexie turned to him, her eyes shining with gratitude.
“You didn’t have to stay,” she whispered.
He shrugged. “I wanted to.”
“I’m sorry we got interrupted, but I’m very much looking forward to getting you naked in the near future.”
Mitch laughed, a low rumble deep in his chest. “That makes two of us.”
It was nearly four in the morning when Lexie’s eyes fluttered shut and breathing evened out. Only then, when she and Berkley were safe in their dreams, did he dare leave.
But not before he rifled through the drawers in Lexie’s gigantic kitchen, which was all sleek white granite countertops, chrome appliances, and matte black hardware, wrapping around a massive island—honestly, what did this girl do for a living?—and found some scrap paper and a pen.
He scrawled his message and sat the note on top of her phone, so she’d find it as soon as she woke up, then crept out of the apartment and into the night.
Twenty-Two Months Later...
Lexiecrackedopenaneye, instantly blinded by the sunshine streaming through the blinds on the window across the room. She slammed her eyes shut against the sudden brightness and deeply inhaled, taking a survey of her body.
Head? Surprisingly not achy.
Back and chest? Slightly sore from too much laughing and screaming the words to early-2000s hip-hop at the top of her lungs last night.
Legs? A little stiff from dancing on the patio.
Feet? Grimy, but nothing a quick shower won’t fix.
Stomach? Grumbling, begging for food.
Then there was the matter of the strong, heavy arm thrown across her middle. That was enough to keep her in this bed a little longer.
