“Glad to hear it, peanut,” I say, mouth already curving because I know exactly what she’s going to say in response to that.
And she doesn’t delay.
Her hands hit her hips, but she’s smiling too. “I’m not a peanut.”
“Oh?” I tease. “I thought all peanuts wore blue and green glitter bows.”
A beleaguered sigh, her eyes rolling to the ceiling. “Joey.”
“No?”
She puts one hand out, palm up. “Roster please?”
“What’s a roster?” I ask, doubling down. “More peanut things?”
Another sigh, but it doesn’t completely hide her giggle.
And that’s when I pass over the slip of paper I’ve written the starting lineup on.
She bounces on her toes in excitement, the twin braids her hair has been corralled into bouncing along with her. “Can I go in?” she asks.
I peek inside, make sure all pertinent parts are covered and the guys are ready for invasion by glitter-bow-wearing little girls then glance back at Evie and nod. She skips into the room without delay and I start to follow her then halt, pulse jumping, when I see Damon round the corner.
“You coming?” Evie asks, glancing back over her shoulder.
“Yeah, peanut,” I tell her, nodding at my coaches to precede me. “I’ll be right in.” I drop my voice as Tommy passes me, murmuring, “Get started if this”—a nod toward Damon as he strides toward me, trademark scowl in place—“takes more than a couple of minutes.”
“Knox!” I hear Evie cry and both Tommy and I smile.
That smile fades as he takes in Damon’s expression. But to his credit—and I give Tommy a lot of credit because he’s been a strong ally for me from day one—he just nods, murmurs back, “On it,” then follows Kaitlyn and Dave inside.
I suck in a breath but manage to keep my expression neutral as Damon comes close—even though every nerve in my body begins to sing, to yearn. It’s familiar, something I’vepushed down time and again. So why would today be any different?
“What is it?” I ask after the door swings shut behind the group.
“Nothing,” he mutters.
That makes my chin lift, my shoulders straighten, my frustration grow. “Isnothingthe reason why you’re down out of your tower and spreading your scowl around?”
That scowl deepens.
Something else I forgot to mention?
That over the last few months his perpetual scowl has gotten…scowlier.
And my perpetual barbs barbier.
As though we’re both slipping toward an inevitable edge and throwing every weapon in our arsenal out to stop that fall.
Or maybe that’s just me.
Maybe it’s so I don’t slip deeper into love with him, so I can do my job and keep my heart safe and?—
“Hiller was detained at the doors,” he says icily.
Every cell in my body goes still, fear and rage tangling before I manage to shove it down. “Doesn’t matter,” I say quietly and even I can hear my words are shaky. “H-he can’t touch us now.”
Can’t touchmenow.
