Page 111 of Sweet Oblivion

His eyes lock on mine, and his gaze sharpens as he takes in every last detail. Observant as ever, he never misses a beat.

“Move.” One word directed at security. At reporters. All standing between us.

The guard hesitates, unsure whether he should step aside.

Big mistake.

“Move,” Ryker repeats, angrier this time as he shoulders past him to get to me.

He bypasses Hendrix and moves in front of Kaleigh like she isn’t even there before his hands slide to my face. He brushes his lips over mine, and suddenly, it’s like the chaos ceases to exist. Like it’s just him and me back at our house. Curled up on the couch, reading this week’s book club rec to each other out loud. “Baby, are you okay?”

The softness in his voice almost breaks me.

Almost.

“I...”My voice shakes as my eyes dart past him into the crowd growing by the minute.“They’re saying...”

“Ignore them.” His thumb brushes my eye, catching a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. “I’ve got you.”

Hands reach for us. Too many. Too fast.

A microphone nearly hits my shoulder.

A camera flashes in my face.

Someone grabs my arm, and I pull away with a yelp.

And that’s it. Ryker snaps.

He turns, pulling me behind him in one sharp move, his entire body going rigid in front of me. “Back the fuck up, and get your fucking hands off my wife.” His powerful voice booms in the massive space, the deep tenor bouncing off the walls in a chilling way.

And the tunnel goes still. Just for a second.

Just long enough for everyone to realize what they’ve done.

“They have a right to ask questions,” someone I can’t see yells from the crowd, and Hendrix signs the words to Ryker, so he doesn’t miss a beat.

“No,” Ryker cuts in, his voice hard as steel as his hand reaches back and wraps around me. Reassuring himself that I’m here and I’m safe. “They fucking don’t. You have questions, you ask me after the game.”

Another hand reaches.

Another mic shoves forward.

And Ryker angles his body, fury radiating off him in red-hot waves.

“I said get your fucking hands off my wife,” he roars, his voice bouncing off the concrete walls, powerful and threatening and completely in control.

And suddenly . . . everyone listens.

Silence fills the space, and I step into Ryker’s side, clinging to him as he takes my hand in his and shoves Hendrix and Kaleigh ahead of us. We move past the asshole guard, who could have avoided all this by letting us in to see Ryker, and through the players’ entrance, then down a hall away from the one markedlocker room. It’s some kind of cafeteria where he guides me away from even Hendrix and Kaleigh, not stopping until we’re tucked into an alcove out of sight. His right hand planted against the wall beside my face as he bends his knees and brings his face level with mine. “I’ve been freaking the fuck out since I got your text an hour ago, Lane, so I’m going to need you to fill me in.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to bother you with any of this before the game.” I hate this. I hate that we’re doing this here. That I’ve brought more stress to his plate right before a game. A job is a job, pro athlete or not, and I just made a personal matter interfere with a professional one. But I do it anyway. I tell him everything. About Brooks coming intoLove in Bloom. About everything he said. About the way he made me feel. About the way Hendrix and Liv insisted I speak to him before the game. I tell him every last thing, hoping he won’t be mad I’m bothering him with it now.

And what does this man do?

He fucking smiles.

Smiles and presses a reverent kiss to my lips.