Page 32 of One Night with Number Nineteen

“Cupcake!”

I set the contract I was reviewing before I passed out aside, ignoring the fact that it’s wrinkled and smeared with ink from my notes.

Could I do this digitally?

Yup.

Does it help my brain to do it physically?

Also yup.

Am I going to get out of this embarrassing as fuck moment?

Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Groaning, I unlock the doors and shove my stiff ass body out of my car.

I’m getting too damned old to do shit like this, give me my foam-core mattress any day of the week.

Gritting my teeth, I shut the door and face my teammates and their women.

Silence greets me.

And judgmental eyes.

Ignoring them—or maybe it’s that my gaze is drawn by its own volition up and over their scowling faces…to the front door of Lainey’s house.

No.

To Lainey standing in the open front door.

Christ, she probably thinks I’m a freak, worse than the man who attacked her, worse than the husband of hers who brings so many complicated, taut feelings into her expression when she speaks of him⁠—

“Explain yourself,” Smitty demands and I jerk my gaze back.

They’re all still glaring.

Maybe even more so now.

My insides twist and it fucking burns to see the accusations in their eyes, to realize they think so little of me.

Gray’s words from yesterday. The judgment right in this moment. All the things I’m trying to do right and keep afloat and they still think that I’m just some asshole looking for pussy⁠—

I clench my hands into fists, blurt out, “Lainey was attacked last night.”

Smitty was already opening his mouth, probably to yell at me for not explaining myself but my words have him freezing, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he asks icily, “Excuse me?”

“Outside the bookstore after Faye’s signing⁠—“

Faye gasps.

Gray draws her close with an arm around her waist. “It’s okay, Red.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not,” she whispers and pulls away, hurrying over to Lainey, who’s making her way down the front walk to greet Ollie and Alex, freshly returned from the sleepover at Veronica’s house.

“I need to see if she’s okay,” Harper says softly.

Leo nods, watches her make her way over to the group of women, Bri trailing her, then turns back to me, his expression murderous.