35. Riggs

THIRTY-FIVE

RIGGS

"Everything okay?" I ask as I bring my glass of water to my mouth. Monroe has been acting weird ever since I got home. She's much quieter than usual, and all she's done since we sat at the table is push her chicken around on her plate. I know something is up.

"Mhmm," she replies quietly, keeping her eyes glued to her food. Her lip quivers and she quickly pulls it between her teeth to mask the movement, but it's too late. I already saw it, and now I'm freaking out a little. She was fine when I left for the stadium. She told me she loved me when we said goodbye on the phone, so why can't she even look me in the eye all of a sudden?

I set my fork down and push my chair back to stand. After rounding the table, I crouch down beside her and turn her chair toward me. Her head doesn't move with her body, so I gently place my fingers under her chin, attempting to pull her gaze to mine. But she's still avoiding eye contact, and her expression looks unsettled.

"What's going on?" I try again. I'm doing my best not to lose my temper because something is obviously bothering her, but if I don't find out what it is, I can't fix it. And I need to fix it . I can't stomach seeing her this way, or knowing that whatever it is, she doesn't feel comfortable telling me.

She looks up, and I don't think I've ever felt further away from her than I do right now. Her expression is nearly blank, her posture caved in as she holds her forearms tightly over her midsection. This is not the girl I left earlier today.

"I—I," she stutters right before her eyes go wide. She throws an open hand over her mouth, stands abruptly, and knocks me on my ass as she takes off toward the stairs, hurrying up them and disappearing into the hallway. I stand and rush after her, making it through the door to the bathroom just as she heaves into the toilet. Kneeling behind her, I gather her hair into my hands and hold it while she vomits violently.

"Riggs, go," she says weakly, batting a hand back in my direction to shoo me away. She's fucking crazy if she thinks I'm leaving her here alone, but I don't even get a chance to tell her that as she turns away again and continues throwing up.

"It's okay, baby," I say softly. "Get it out." She finally gives up and drops her head forward, taking slow, steady breaths to quell the nausea. We sit there, her sniffling softly while I rub her back, until she finally stands. I follow, leaning against the wall while she brushes her teeth, hoping she'll tell me what's making her feeling unwell. She turns to face me, still completely avoiding eye contact.

"I'm going to sleep in my bed tonight. I don't want to get you sick," she whispers. "Goodnight. "

"Wait," I rush out, grabbing her by the arm. "Let me take care of you." I'm desperate to close the distance between us—both physically and emotionally—but I can tell she's checked out. I just wish I knew why.

She shakes her head. "Riggs, you're getting ready to pitch in a couple of days. Whatever this is," she pauses, resting a hand over her stomach, "could take you out if it's contagious. I shouldn't be breathing on you all night. I'll sleep in my bed, and we'll talk tomorrow."

I let her go because if she really is sick, she has a good point. But the way she's acting still feels very alarming. I don't like the thought of being apart tonight if something is on her mind.

"Okay," I relent. "But at least let me tuck you in." She nods weakly, turning down the hall and walking into her old room with me only a few steps behind. Instead of undressing and putting on one of my t-shirts like she usually does, she pulls back the covers and gets into bed, still wearing her cropped crewneck and leggings. All of this is so unlike her, but maybe she just doesn't have the energy to change. I think better of offering to help her, instead opting to pull the covers up over her before pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

"I love you, sweet thing," I say softly. "I'm just down the hall if you need anything."

"Night," she whispers, rolling away from me and pulling the blanket over her head. Reluctantly, I stand and slowly walk toward the door. Looking back one last time, I wonder what happened in the past six hours that has put so many miles between us.

I kick the blankets off my legs, tossing from one side to the other. I've barely gotten a wink of sleep all night. I don't know if it's because I'm thinking about my exchange with Monroe earlier, or simply the fact that she's down the hall instead of in bed with me where she belongs. Either way, I've given up on getting any rest. Every possible scenario has played in my head, but I can't figure out what she isn't telling me. At first, I considered that she really does have a stomach bug, and she just wanted to keep me from getting sick. Then my mind went in another direction, wondering if she could possibly be pregnant and doesn't want to say it out loud for fear of my reaction. I know she's on birth control, but we haven't used a single condom since we started having sex again, so it isn't out of the realm of possibility. Whatever it is, I'm not going to leave this house until we talk about it.

Turning to my phone that's propped up on the charging stand, I see that it's four o'clock. I don't have to be at the stadium until this afternoon since we have a home game later today, so I should be enjoying a very rare morning off. Maybe I just need to go check on her, and I'll be able to salvage the last couple hours of darkness that I have left.

I stand and pad quietly out of the room and toward hers. I expect to be met with silence, but I'm caught off guard when I hear small sobs coming from the other side of her door. I immediately twist the knob and push my way in, panic taking over at the sight in front of me.

Monroe is on her knees in front of the dresser, frantically stuffing articles of clothing into her suitcase. Even though she's been sleeping in my bed for weeks, all of her belongings stayed in here because it was easier. Now I'm regretting not moving her into my room fully. Another suitcase stands in front of the closet door, and two duffel bags are stacked next to it. This is pretty much everything she brought to Daytona.

"What the fuck is going on?" I ask, startling her. She turns abruptly, tears running from her red-rimmed eyes. She was so entranced in what she was doing, that she didn't even hear me come into the room.

"Nothing," she says, swiping at her cheeks as if she can erase the evidence. Like I wouldn't question why in the fuck she's awake in the middle of the night, sobbing as she packs her luggage.

"No," I say, moving toward her and kneeling on the floor. "You're not fucking leaving me again, Monroe. Tell me what's wrong. Whatever it is, we'll get through it."

Her eyes finally connect with mine, making my heart shatter in my chest. She looks utterly defeated. Her shoulders hunch forward, and she releases a long, slow sigh. "We can't get through it, Riggs. I have to go. Please trust me when I say I'm doing this for you." Her chin quivers as her eyes fill with more tears. I reach for her, attempting to provide comfort—anything to ease her pain—but she pulls away, shaking her head as she puts out a cautious hand between us. "Don't," she says. "You're making it harder."

"Baby," I plead, "please just tell me. There's nothing more important to me than us. If you're trying to save me from something and you think the only option is leaving, you're wrong. If you're—" I pause, unable to bear the thought of losing something so precious. "If you're pregnant, I promise I'll be the best dad ever to our baby. I can't think of anything I'd want more than to have a family with you. Just don't leave me. Please, " I choke out, letting my own tears of desperation fall. I drop my head forward, my shoulders shaking as I break down, hoping she understands that nothing in this world could ever mean more to me than she does.

I press my palms to my eyes, trying to breathe deeply before her warm arms wrap around me. She squeezes tightly, and we cry together for several minutes before she pulls away.

"I'm not pregnant," she whispers, and I have to admit that the words aren't a relief in any way. From the moment the thought popped into my head, a sense of calm washed over me, despite the lingering unease from not knowing what was going on with her. I'm completely positive that a future with Monroe and whatever kind of family we're blessed with is exactly what I want out of life. I just have to make her stay.

"Then what's wrong?" I ask. "Why are you trying to sneak out in the middle of the night?"

She loosens her hold on me, backing up slightly but staying angled toward my body. I miss the warmth of her touch immediately, so I reach out and rub my thumb along her thigh. I just need some type of connection right now, and I'm grateful she's allowing it.

"My dad called," she says, making my eyes go wide as I whip my head up to look at her. I told that piece of shit not to contact her again, and now I'm finding out that, not only did he not listen, but he said something to upset her. My nostrils flare and my fingers flex, but I try to repress my anger long enough for her to tell me everything.

"He has a copy of the surveillance video from the night he was here. I don't know how he got it, but it's from the camera above the archway. There's no audio, and the beginning is cut off, but it looks really bad. He told me that if I come home and show that we're a strong family unit while he runs for governor, he'll delete it. I need to go back to California so he doesn't drag your name through the mud."

"No," I say, my whole body tingling with the rage I'm holding in. I won't let him take her from me, just so he can treat her like garbage and make her life miserable. She deserves better. "We'll just be honest. We'll tell the truth. People will have to believe us."

She huffs an incredulous laugh. "Why would they? You've been in trouble twice for attacking what appeared to be innocent people. You already had one foot out the door with the team prior to me coming here. My dad has somehow managed to create a fake persona that people associate with integrity and honesty, even though he's anything but. You're the Bad Boy of Baseball, and I'm just his rebellious runaway daughter. It'll be our word against his, and I promise you, he'll win. He always does. I have to do this, Riggs. You'll lose everything ."

Fuck that. She is everything. I don't give a single shit about playing baseball if it means losing her in the process. I'll hang up my cleats right now.

"I'll ask the security manager for the video. We'll watch the uncut version and see if there's anything we can do," I say in an attempt to grasp at straws.

"No," she replies quickly. "My dad obviously knows somebody here, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to get it in the first place. We can't trust anybody. Plus, what good would it do to have the rest? The camera didn't pick up the audio, so it'll still look like you were in the wrong. You'll get kicked off the team. I wouldn't put it past him to press charges and sue you for millions, either. I was stupid to think I'd ever be out from under his control," she whispers, her face twisting in pain. "I finally find real happiness and he comes to swipe it away like it's nothing. I'm a pawn in his game. That's all he'll ever see me as."

"Hey. No," I say softly, pulling her trembling body into my arms. "I'm not letting him do this to us. Give me one day. Just let me fight for us, Monroe. You took that choice from me after our first night together when you left without saying goodbye. Please let me show you how much I need you." I'm desperate for her to say yes, but I can't force her to stay if she doesn't want to. I just have to hope that she trusts me enough to figure something out.

She looks up at me, swallowing thickly. "One day. That's all we have."

I shake my head, smiling softly down at her. "We have the rest of our lives, sweet girl. I promise."

"I love you, Riggs," she whispers, pressing her lips to mine. I pour everything I have into the kiss, hoping she understands the lengths I'll go to keep her here with me. I'll burn this whole fucking world to the ground if I have to.

Without breaking our connection, I stand, pulling her with me and walking us back to the bed. I carefully lower her to the mattress, dropping down between her parted legs. Cupping her jaw with my hand, I trail wet kisses down her face, stopping to suck on the sensitive skin below her ear. I feel her hips rotate slightly, creating the sweetest friction between us as needy whines fill the air around us. I help by grinding down, kissing her neck as the head of my erection rubs her clit through our clothes. Even with the barrier separating us, stars explode behind my eyes at the feeling of her warmth seeping through the fabric. This woman owns me in every way. There isn't a chance in hell I'd ever let her go.

I bring my lips back to hers, claiming them in another kiss that's filled with all the love I have. I know she feels it. She has to . Her body trembles under me, and I'd give anything to ease her mind about the future. I know I need to let my actions speak in this situation with her dad, but for now, I'll do whatever I can to help her escape.

I reluctantly pull away, sitting back on my feet while I peel her shirt over her head. My mouth waters as her tits peek out from the top of her bra, and I go lightheaded with the need to feel her piercings against my tongue.

"Arch your back," I command, waiting for her to obey before I reach behind her, unfastening the clasp that separates me from what I want. Pulling the lace material away from her body, I lean down and suck one rose-colored bud into my mouth, using my teeth to graze the metal barbell that decorates it.

"Riggs," she gasps, and I swear I feel like I could come right here as she sings my name. I know I'd never let anyone take her from me, but in the back of my mind, I can't help but hope this isn't the last time I make love to her. I need it to be perfect, so that if we end up apart, even for a little while, she's unable to forget the way I'll worship her until my last breath.

"I'm here, baby," I whisper, fusing my lips back to hers as I peel her leggings down past her knees, yanking them off and throwing them to the floor. Her panties meet the same fate, and by the time I ghost my fingertip along her sensitive clit, we're both ready to lose ourselves in one another. I rub gentle circles around it, savoring every one of the sweet little cries that escapes her swollen lips.

I shuck my thin sleep pants and boxers, working them down my legs and kicking them onto the heap of her clothing that lies at the foot of the bed. Bringing my focus back to my girl, I leave room between us so I can continue moving my hand along her flesh.

Monroe clings to me as I coax her orgasm to the surface, sliding down and just barely entering her with one finger as she clenches her inner walls in search of more. I want to make her forget everything that isn't the feeling of being mine. Even if it takes hours, there's nowhere else I'd rather be than right here, showing her that I'll always be here to fight the monsters that come for us. I'll never let her down.

I finally take mercy on her, sinking two thick fingers into her impossibly wet cunt. I slowly work them inside until my palm is cupping her hot skin, curling them forward as her hips lift off the mattress.

"There she is," I say softly, knowing I'm grazing the part of her that makes her insides turn to mush. My heart rate speeds at the thought of making her come undone, over and over, until she feels nothing but pleasure. As much as this is for her, I need to lose myself just as badly.

I continue massaging her g-spot until she's gripping me so tightly, that I'm not sure I could pull out even if I wanted to. "Good girl," I praise. "Come for me." Keeping my fingers bent as I thrust in and out, I do my best to make sure she has everything she needs to explode. She moans loudly and her legs begin to shake as a small gush of wetness runs out of her and into my hand. I can't tear my eyes away from her face as the orgasm washes over her. Her mouth is parted and her eyes are squeezed shut, yet she looks as though she doesn't have a single worry in the world. My beautiful girl deserves this every hour of every day, and all I want is to be the lucky man who gets to give it to her.

The pleasure begins to ebb, and her muscles relax as she returns to earth, sinking back down into the mattress. I press gentle kisses along her shoulder and neck, listening to the soft, rapid breaths that come from her sated body. I continue coasting my mouth over her skin, and it doesn't take long for her arousal to build again. She wraps her small hands around my biceps and pulls me between her open, trembling legs.

"You're my fucking world, baby," I whisper, capturing her lips with mine while I line up at her entrance and slide home. She's so warm and tight, there isn't a question in my mind that she was made just for me. We're two halves of the same whole, and no matter what goes down after this, we'll always be connected. We're incomplete when we're apart, and we're unstoppable when we're together.

I push all the way inside, gritting my teeth as we both get used to the stretch. My heart pounds in my ears as I move slowly, making sure that I'm not going to blow before I can get her over the edge again. Pulling back so I'm using my hands on either side of her head for support, I focus on her face as I begin thrusting harder. A beautiful flush covers her damp skin, and her mouth hangs open as she pants and moans my name. She grinds down, meeting my hips with hers, urging me to give her even more.

"There you go, sweet thing," I coax. "Make that beautiful pussy feel good on my cock. You're doing such a good job." The praise hits its mark, making her shatter under me for a second time. Her body convulses and her cunt contracts so tightly, I don't even get a chance to let her finish before I'm pulled under right alongside her. My release hits me like an explosion, launching me into pure ecstasy as I empty everything I have inside her. It feels like it goes on forever, wave after wave of electricity shooting through us both until we have nothing left to give.

I collapse, doing my best to support my weight with my shaking forearms so I don't crush her. We're covered in sweat, gasping for breath, trying to grasp onto the final moments of bliss before reality settles back in.

"You're mine," I whisper against her cheek, feeling a lone tear slide across her skin and onto mine. "Nobody's going to take you from me. I promise."

She sighs, snuggling into me as I lie there inside her, praying that she trusts me to fix everything.

I don't care what it takes to make it right. The only thing I'm unwilling to give up is Monroe.