“I just turned the phone on. I left it off all day because I didn’t want to get any more pornographic photos of my man with random women.”
Gideon blows out a breath and cringes. “I’m sorry, Wills.”
“Unless it was you that sent them, you have nothing to feel sorry for.”
He shakes his head. “No one should have to see that. I’m tracking down the sender. I have calls out to your phone carrier.”
“The things you can find are kind of scary.”
He laughs and then just smiles at me. Gideon doesn’t often smile. He never has, so when I get one, I tuck it away in my heart.
“Is it always going to be like this?” I ask him.
“What do you mean?”
I blow out a breath and lay my forehead on the desk, close my eyes.
“Wills, talk to me.”
“I don’t want to anymore.”
He chuckles, and I squint one eye open and stare at him.
“He has baggage, Wills.”
“We all do,” I counter. “We all had tough childhoods—”
“I’m not even talking about that. He’s always going to beRyker James, the phenom, the GOAT of professional hockey. Two-time Stanley Cup winner, MVP, and all the other things that make his ego big.”
I smirk at that. “I’m proud of him.”
“Fuck, I am too. He worked damn hard for all of it. He deserves it.”
I nod slowly.
“But it comes with the fame, and even if he’s moved to the ranch and isn’t in the sport anymore, the fame won’t ever really go away. What happened last night isn’t part of that. This was malicious and, honestly, illegal. This isn’t something you’ll have to deal with often, if ever again. It’s mostly people asking for autographs and photos when you’re in public.”
“I don’t mind that.”
“Are you telling me that last night gave you second thoughts about your relationship?”
“No.” I sit up and push my hands through my hair. “No, I’m in love with him, Gid. There’s no going back for me. He’s it—he’s the one—and I’ll fight with everything in me for him. I’m not pulling away.”
“Then why do you look so fucking sad?”
I smile at him. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“I love you, too, baby girl. What do you need? Need me to come home and fix it?”
I raise my eyebrows. “That’swhat it takes for you to come home? Not getting shot in the leg?”
“Getting shot in the leg is part of my job. You’re my family. Those are two different things.”
“You’re kind of badass. You know that, right? You gotshot, Gid. With bullets.”
“Yes. I was there.”
I snort.
