That was the moment she glanced up, just for a second. She didn’t say my name or nod, but my awareness of her hummed and climbed up a notch as she found me in the shadows and stayed on me.
That look grounded me. Hit deep and true like my knot when I’d taken her. I was exactly where I wanted to be—here for her.
Chapter
Thirty-Four
WREN
It was late—so late the streets felt half-dreamed—when Roan pulled the SUV up in front of my house. The hum of the engine died, leaving only the faint tick of cooling metal and the low hiss of the wind. Jay had been quiet most of the drive, slouched against the window, the soft rhythm of his breathing just uneven enough to keep me glancing over at him.
The doctors had said his concussion was serious but not dangerous. Clean scans, steady vitals. They’d kept him longer than he liked, of course, poking and shining lights in his eyes, asking the same questions over and over. He’d answered them with that same lazy charm that fooled no one, least of all me. He was hurting, but trying not to show it.
Rhett followed behind us in my car, headlights a steady presence in the mirror. We’d all agreed it made more sense that way—Roan and I had driven separately, but there was no way I wasn’t riding home with Jay. After everything that night, I needed to see him safely through my front door, into my house, into a bed that wasn’t sterile and white and humming with machines.
We’d won the third game. The Howlers were advancing. The finals were close enough to taste. But none of that mattered withJay having gone down. The arena seemed almost preternaturally too quiet, when his body had gone limp on the ice. Even now, hours later, the image made my stomach twist.
As Roan slowed to park at the curb, I caught the flicker of flashbulbs—brief, sharp bursts that turned the night electric. My pulse spiked. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. “Who the hell?—”
“Press,” Roan said flatly. His jaw was already tightening. “They must’ve been waiting since the hospital release.”
“Roan, I’ve got it.” I reached for the door handle, but he shot me a look—alpha calm over alpha fury.
“Your job is to protect the team,” he said, voice low and even. “My job is to protectyou.”
Before I could argue, he was out of the car, shutting the door behind him and cutting across the street like a wall of intent. Cameras flared, voices rose—sharp, fast questions about Jay’s condition, the team’s odds, my supposedrelationship status.Roan didn’t raise his voice, didn’t even have to. His presence alone was enough to make most of them backpedal.
From inside the car, the world out there looked almost cinematic—Roan standing there, broad shoulders blocking the glare, the press retreating with muttered complaints. Rhett pulling my car in behind us, lights going off, and I could already picture his expression when he saw the scene. Roan was right to get out first. He’d have words otherwise, and none of them gentle.
Jay stirred beside me, blinking awake. The movement was slow, like surfacing from deep water.
“Hey,” I said softly. “Home.”
He looked around, then smiled—a hint of teasing in his warmth despite the pain visible around the corners of his eyes, and sohim.“Home,” he echoed. “Good word.”
I wanted to reach for him, but I didn’t. Not yet. He was still pale, and his pupils—though finally even—made me ache to check again.
Jay exhaled, shoulders sinking. “You know, I could’ve handled a little press. Given them my good side.”
I gave him a sidelong look. “You don’thavea good side right now. You look like you wrestled a brick wall.”
“Won, though,” he murmured, smiling again.
I shook my head but couldn’t help returning it. “Barely.”
He was still grinning when he said, voice quiet but sure, “At least this story has a fun ending.”
I arched a brow. “Does it?”
His grin widened, dimple flashing even through the exhaustion. “Yeah. I get to sleep with you tonight.”
I rolled my eyes, heat creeping up my neck despite myself. “You’re concussed.”
“Still true.”
He leaned back, eyes closing again, a small, satisfied smile on his lips. Blowing out a breath, it felt like I was releasing my first real exhale in hours.
Outside, the flashes stopped. Roan had sent them off, likely with a warning look designed to keep them away. No matter what, we’d be the story. And I’d deal with it when I had to. The press wasn’t the important one right now.
