“Do you know when your brother might return?”
This question comes from the back of the room, so I can’t pinpoint exactly who asked it. Several people hold their phones higher, trying to get a better shot of some micro expression I might be making.
“That’s a discussion between him and coaching,” I say. “We all hope it’s soon.”
A different feeling spreads in my chest, and I have to breathe carefully to keep from reacting to it. It’s been happening off and on all day, sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker. I wishI could drown it out, smother it until it stops affecting me. I shift a bit in the hard plastic chair, willing my own scent to stay unreactive to the lust even as my dick hardens.
The rest of the questions are blurs. A few more reporters try to get me to answer the personal ones, but I’m consistent in my vague, noncommittal responses, and eventually they all give up. Ashton and I get out of the room before any of the reporters manage to. One of the assistants that makes sure we’re always where we need to be at the right time stands in the hallway, messing around on his phone.
“Last bus leaves in about ten minutes,” he says, glancing up at us. He hands me my backpack. “You need anything from me?”
I shake my head and get onto the bus that takes us to the team’s plane. Several support staff are on it, but Ashton and I are the only players left. A harder wave of lust hits me, and this time my scent reacts, flaring out from me. I don’t say a word, though, as I drop into one of the seats. Ashton sighs as he sits beside me, ignoring the other half dozen open seats.
“You okay?” he whispers, pulling his headphones from his pocket.
He’s been asking me that every couple hours today, every time I flinch or stiffen. He’d been surprisingly gentle when I’d finally come out of the rut, calmly explaining what he and Rhett had walked into. Mortification and dread had filled me in equal measure, only intensifying when he refused to let me go to my own temporary apartment under Rhett’s orders.
I shrug even as my scent grows more potent.
“Good playing tonight, by the way,” he says into the silence.
I snort, and he shrugs. He starts to say something else, but the door to the bus opens again. Ares climbs up the stairs and turns into the main aisle. His eyes catch on me, and his jaw clenches. Somehow, despite him not saying a word to me outside of game instruction and playing critiques today, I know he’saware I was there yesterday afternoon, that I saw his daughter while she was in heat.
I have no idea if he knows how much I fucked up. How much the entire situation was out of both of our control and has left what is going to be a flaming mess behind.
To escape his look, I pull out my phone. Billie’s text is the only notification.
Great goal. Good win. Proud of you!
Bile rushes to my throat even as the lust under my sternum finally fades, releasing my body.
BILLIE
Despite the marathon the weekend was, my heart is full when I park behind Blush & Bloom early Monday afternoon. The wind cuts more than I expected when leaving the airport, and I tuck my face into my scarf as I quickly walk around the front of the shop. Carys has been so jumpy the last week, I don’t want to panic her by walking in the back door when she’s not expecting me to come in today.
The sign is flipped to closed as expected, but the door is unlocked.
“Carys?” I call once I’m inside, the bells chiming overhead. I strip off the scarf and my purse and set them on the cafe table. “How did this weekend go? Did the flowers come in okay? I know that wholesaler has been awful recently, and we didn’t want to use them until…”
I trail off as someone other than Carys comes out of the work room.
“Marilyn,” I say, shocked.
She’s dressed in jeans and a black sweater, more casual than I’ve ever seen her. She offers a tired smile. “How was California?”
Did I miss a message from Carys about asking Marilyn to help while I was gone? I pull my phone from my back pocket to check, but there’s nothing but a text from Marley. Nerves settle in my stomach like a stone. That voice that’s pestered me since middle school gets louder for the first time in weeks. Had I done something to make Carys upset?
“It was good,” I answer with a frown. I double check the sign is still flipped to closed and then pull the binder of custom orders from under the counter. Using work as a way to avoid my thoughts is nothing new for me. “Where’s Carys? She didn’t text me that she wasn’t working today.”
“She went into heat Friday,” Marilyn says, crossing her arms. “I’ve been doing my best to cover the weekend. I’m thankful you’re back, to be honest. Carys has quite a business under her belt after only six months.”
I smile. “Yeah, it’s grown a lot just in the two months I’ve been here. It’s been really impressive to watch.”
The orders are still organized, the pickups from over the weekend marked off but the forms not moved to the back. I quickly adjust everything and look through the orders for today and tomorrow. Then I pull up the computer program that tracks all of the actual inventory and customer information, making sure the information matches. It’s a bit duplicative, but Carys has told me enough horror stories of trying to set up weddings and events where accessing the internet isn’t an option to trust her methods.
Once everything’s caught up, I turn back to Marilyn.
“Friday?” I ask, and she nods. I mess with my engagement ring, a nervous habit I’ve picked up since the proposal in June. “That explains why she was so on edge before I left. And why Rhett?—”
