Chapter 13

thirteen

MADDOX

The guys love her. They're instantly protective, can't stop laughing when she cracks jokes at my expense, and they haven't stopped trying to get her to agree to come to at least one of our games. I'm so screwed because the minute we drop her off, they'll be up my ass about trying to win her over. And if I tell them there's not a chance in hell, I suspect Griff will take that as permission to shoot his shot.

As much as I love Griffin, in the time I've known him, he's never been with the same woman for more than three days. Some bullshit about how he's cursed, so why fight fate? Isla deserves better. It's not even that I want her; it's just that I know she's recently been through a nasty breakup, and Griff's not capable of offering a woman more than a few nights of fun.

Isla doesn't strike me as the type of woman who'd be happy with a night or two of no-strings-attached sex. She might try to hide it, but she's got hopeless romantic mounted in blinking neon letters above her head.

It's well after midnight, and while my teammates are still going strong, Isla's fading. She's doing these adorable slow blinks and answers half of the questions posed to her with a sleepy ‘ hmm ?' And with every passing minute, she's melting into my side a little more. That's how I know it's time to bring her home. Because after the asshat from earlier left and there was no more reason to pretend we were together, she hadn't touched me once. In fact, she's been very careful not to. So when her head lolls onto my shoulder, I clear my throat to get the guys' attention.

When Griffin sees her dozing against me, his face breaks into an ultra-wide smile. He takes out his phone and snaps a few photos despite my scowl and turns to Navarro. "For when they get married," he whispers. "We can pull this out and say we were there the night they fell in love." Griff clasps his hands together over his heart and flutters his eyelashes dramatically. He looks ridiculous.

"Shut the fuck up," I grumble.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm texting them to you now." He blows me a kiss, and I sigh, but there's no hiding the smile that twitches across my lips.

"Thanks."

Logan leans across the booth and holds out his palm. "Here, give me the valet ticket and I'll have them pull your car up. I'll also do a quick sweep to make sure that dickless asshole isn't lurking somewhere outside waiting."

My chest squeezes at the thought of him sticking around intending to hurt her, but gratitude for my boys quickly overshadows it. We may all be fuck-ups in our own ways, but there are no better friends. I'm lucky to have them in my corner, and it seems Isla is now lucky, too. I drop the ticket in Byrne's hand with a grateful nod.

"Thanks, man."

"I'll settle up with the bar." Navarro unfolds himself from the booth as Byrne does, and then it's just me and Wright left with a sleeping Isla.

"Help me get her out?" I ask him. He nods, holding her up as I slide out. It's an awkward dance, getting a sleeping woman out of a booth like this, but she's so tired she barely stirs. "Can you grab her purse?"

"Of course, man." Griff grabs her bag and then grins like the cat who caught the canary as I lift Isla, careful to pin her skirt between her legs and my arms so no one sees anything they shouldn't. She mumbles something unintelligible before nestling her face into the crook of my neck and I freeze, so taken aback by her unconscious trust and the realization that I'm tired of being alone, that I'm unable to move.

"She looks right in your arms." Griffin's tone is far more serious than I'm used to hearing when it comes to women. "Don't fuck this up."

Blowing out a slow breath, I meet his gaze. "That seems to be all I ever do." It's happened often enough that I've stopped putting myself out there. I've stopped risking anything and convinced myself I'm happy alone. But am I? Right now, with a beautiful, funny woman in my arms, I can admit I haven't been. It's scary as hell to consider trying again, but ignoring Isla's pull is as impossible for me as it is for the ocean to ignore the call of the moon.

He gives me a knowing look before clapping my free shoulder softly. "You're a good man, Graves. One of the best. The only thing you screwed up before was picking the wrong women." His attention goes to the sleeping woman in my arms. "Seems like Fate finally intervened. Lucky bastard. Don't waste this shot."

Shit. You know you're in deep when Griffin Wright waxes poetic about fate.

We pick our way through the bar and, joined by Navarro, head into the night just as the valet pulls my car up. "Any sign of Ken?"

Byrne shakes his head. "Nope. I think we're good." He opens the passenger door. "Here, put her in front so she's comfortable. The rest of us can cram into the back."

"Dude, that's going to suck," Griff whines. "But I suppose it's the gentlemanly thing to do."

Byrne snorts. "You wouldn't know the gentlemanly thing if it bit you in the ass."

"Ooh, ass play. Kinky." Wright gives him a wink, then climbs into the back seat.

"Can you behave yourself? At least until we get Isla home." Navarro rolls his eyes. They all grunt as he shoves himself into the back with them and they bicker like children as they struggle to find the seat buckles with three massive hockey players jammed so tightly together. I can't help chuckling as I pull Isla's seatbelt across her body and carefully buckle her in. The click, combined with the grumbling in the back of the car, finally has her stirring. She blinks big, sleepy blue eyes at me.

"Hey. What's happening?"

"You fell asleep," I tell her. "We're going to take you home now. Let me climb in, then you can give me your address, okay?"

She hums her agreement, eyes tracking me as I cross in front of the car and climb into the driver's seat .

"Where to?"

She rattles off her address. Once I've typed it into my maps app, we're on our way. "Thanks for driving me home." The shy smile she offers me goes straight to my chest. "And for the assist earlier. I really appreciate it."

"You don't have to thank me," I tell her honestly. "Anyone would have done the same in my position."

Shadows cross her face before she murmurs, "No, not everyone."

It's stupid and irrational, but I want to wipe those shadows from her eyes and make her forget the jerk that put them there. And I want to kick past me's ass for contributing to them last week. "Anyone worth your time," I say instead.

The ten minutes it takes to drive to her apartment go by way too quickly. The neighborhood isn't great, and it causes an irrational surge of protective instincts to flare in my chest. But Isla doesn't seem bothered by it, so I hold my tongue. As soon as I park, she turns, offering us a blinding, if tired, smile. "I had so much fun with you all tonight. Thanks for including me in your guys' night. I'm sorry for crashing it."

Griffin reaches up and ruffles her hair. "Don't apologize, Teach. We had fun with you, too. We'll have even more fun when we all go out and celebrate after we win the game you come see."

She chuckles. "That sounds like a plan."

Wright lets out a whoop as he turns to me. "Told you we'd convince her."

Hand on the door, Isla chews her bottom lip. I want to reach out and soothe the abused flesh again, but that would be a stupid move. "Okay, well, goodnight. Thanks again."

"Saying goodnight so soon? Why don't you let us walk you to your door? I know that guy freaked you out earlier." I glance at the guys. "Boys." They all climb out of the car. Soon, three hockey players prowl around the parking lot and in front of Isla's building while I stand guard at her side.

"Hockey bodyguards. This is fun. I guess I was pretty freaked out about earlier. Is this car to door service, or do you offer apartment sweeps too? I keep imagining that asshole hiding under my bed," she jokes. Her cheeks grow pink. She's so damned beautiful. "I'm kidding, of course."

"Checking under the bed is part of the package," I reply with a wink. Because she's kidding, but she's not. Even though there's no way that guy is in her apartment, the whole experience unsettled her. I've got a little sister. Unfortunately, I have experience helping a freaked out woman feel safe again. And one way to do that is to make them laugh without minimizing their feelings.

The wind blows a strand of hair in her face, and I reach out to tuck it behind her ear without even thinking. Her blush grows deeper, and my stupid mind conjures images of her flushed and panting beneath me as I move inside her.

Fuck. Now I'm hard.

"Well, I'd be stupid not to get my money's worth." The guys wait for us at the entrance to her apartment building, their visual sweep of the exterior done. She opens the door and motions us in. "Come on, then."

Her apartment is on the third floor at the end of the hallway. It's small but tidy, full of bright colors and vintage furniture. Black and white photos and colorful paintings adorn the space, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves span the entire wall behind her green velvet couch. It's eclectic and creative, and I drink it all in, savoring this private piece of Isla I never thought I'd see.

She fidgets as she watches us check out her home. Four massive hockey players make the space seem smaller than I'm sure it normally feels. "Can I get you guys drinks or anything?"

"Nah," I say, grinning. "We're okay. We'll just check under your bed and behind the shower curtain as part of our hockey security service, then get out of your way."

Isla laughs. The sweet sound goes straight to my cock. "Uh, feel free to take a look around. And under my bed, I guess. I've seen way too many horror movies to want to look there myself."

The guys chuckle, but even though she's laughing along with them, I see the lingering nerves she's trying to hide. That prick shook her up. And as over the top as all of this is, it will help her sleep better tonight. We'll make her laugh, put on a show of inspecting every dark corner, and help her feel safe. We check out the bedroom and bathroom, making a point to look behind the shower curtain, beneath the bed, and inside her closet. It's overkill, and we crack jokes the whole time, but it does the trick. The tension bleeds out of her posture, and she finally relaxes.

"You good?" I ask her as the guys and I move toward her door. She yawns, obviously tired. As much as some irrational part of me wants to stay, I know we need to let her get some sleep.

"I'm good. Thanks, guys. "

"Don't mention it," Navarro says. Wright and Byrne echo his sentiments.

"We'll get out of your hair and let you go to bed." I hesitate, not sure if I should give her a hug or a high five or a kiss on the forehead. Definitely not a high five. I'd never hear the end of it from the guys. In the end, I do nothing. "Night, Isla."

Her sleepy smile is a sucker punch to the heart. "Night, Maddox. Night, guys."

My boys chorus their goodbyes, and I reluctantly follow them out of Isla's apartment. The light inside her place back-lights her as she stands in the doorway, watching us walk down the hall. She gives us a little wave before we hit the stairs. No one speaks until we've hit the first floor, then Navarro claps me on the back.

"It was nice knowing you."

I bark out a laugh. "What?"

He throws me a shit-eating grin. "We all saw that. You're a goner, Graves. Plain and simple."

And damn it all, I think he's right.