Every brush of her skin against mine was a silent promise: I’m here. I’m not running.
And I answered it with every part of me.
Time blurred. The storm outside faded into background noise—the low rumble of wind against the windows, the occasional creak of the old house. But inside this room, everything felt still. Sacred.
She clung to me like I was a lifeline. I held her like she was the only thing tethering me to the world.
After, she curled into my chest, breath still uneven, skin warm and glowing.
I kept one arm around her and used the other to brush her hair back, memorizing the shape of her, the scent of her shampoo, the way her lashes fluttered when she started to drift.
I’d never felt more alive.
Never more terrified of losing it.
But I didn’t say any of that.
I just kissed the top of her head and whispered into the quiet, “I’ve got you.”
Because I did.
And I always would.
Chapter 29
Daphne
I’d been in a lot of uncomfortable rooms before—but nothing like this.
The boardroom at MLS headquarters was ice-cold and sterile, all clean lines and hushed tones. The kind of place designed to make you feel small. A long table sat at the center, surrounded by people in suits—league officials, Cam at the end, and some guy introduced as a legal advisor. There was water on the table, untouched. A recording device sat in the middle, blinking red.
I sat next to Kieren, but not too close. There was space between us—not because I wanted it, but because I didn’t know what the league expected from us, and I didn't want to cross a line I didn't know was drawn.
My palms were sweating. I wiped them on my skirt under the table and forced myself to sit up straight.
“Thank you both for coming in,” one of the officials said, folding his hands. “Let’s get right to it.”
No one eased into it. No warm-up. No small talk.
“We’re here to discuss the altercation with Ryder Blake and its impact on the league, the team, and public perception.”
“That was me,” Kieren said, voice steady. “I take full responsibility. Daphne had nothing to do with it.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, looking directly at the officials. “I acted on my own. No one pushed me into it. If there are consequences, they’re mine to face.”
I felt something twist inside me. He didn’t even glance at me. He wasn’t trying to win points. Wasn’t looking for pity. He meant it.
One of the officials nodded slowly. “Mr. Walker, you understand that this isn’t just about a scuffle. This was live, on-air. There are legal implications. Reputation fallout. Sponsors involved.”
“I understand,” Kieren said. “But I won’t let anyone talk about her like that. He crossed a line.”
I flinched. My name hadn’t come up yet—not directly. But now all eyes shifted to me.
“He made crude comments,” Cam added, his voice tight. “Implied Daphne was… sleeping her way through the league. Live. On a syndicated show.”
Silence followed. Heavy. Tense.
The lawyer spoke next. “If Ms. Sommers chose to pursue defamation charges, we could build a strong case.”
My heart pounded. I hadn’t even thought that far ahead. I was still trying to breathe through the fact that Kieren had thrown everything on the line for me.
