Defender (Seattle Sharks 9)

“If you must insult me,” I hissed. “Could you at least whisper?”

He laughed softly before he dropped to his knees in front of my seat on the private jet Lukas seemed to have at his disposal.

“It wasn’t an insult, butterfly.” He pushed a tall Sharks tumbler with a straw toward me. I wrapped my fingers around the cold cup. Even that motion was enough to make me wince.

“Butterfly?” My mind felt like it was on a permanent delay.

He smiled, his eyes light as he looked up at me. “Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “You’re always floating about, this way and that, and only stand still if something anchors you.”

Seems like you could use an anchor to the real world.

Once again his words from our time in Sweden flitted through my mind.

He kept…reading me and understanding me in ways I never anticipated. Maybe that is why we were so good at pretending…and working together.

I ignored the nickname and eyed the cup in my hands, my stomach turning and twisting at the thought of putting anything in it. “What is it?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I said, no hesitance in the answer. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have allowed myself to get so out of control last night. I knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Or Faith, but she had Lukas. And Sawyer could take care of himself. Not that I couldn’t handle my own—I was completely capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. But having him there, knowing he was at my side…it had let some tight coil of control unwind within my soul.

And a lot good that did me, seeing as how I was now surely dying.

“Drink it.” The words were a command yet somehow, from his lips, it didn’t ruffle my independent feathers. No, this was the demand of someone who had my best interests at heart.

When the hell had that happened?

I slowly, timidly wrapped my lips around the straw, unable to take my eyes off his, and then sucked.

He cocked a brow, impatient.

I sighed, my tight shoulders loosening as I took another long pull on the straw.

“Ohmigod,” I moaned around the icy liquid. “This is incredible.”

A satisfied grin shaped his lips as he watched me take another drink of the delicious fruit smoothie with a hint of something…herby.

“Whoa,” he said, his hand darting toward the cup and lowering it from my mouth. “Slow down,” he said. “Don’t want it all to come back up.”

I nodded, pacing myself. “I can’t remember the last time I ate,” I admitted, suddenly ravenous for the concoction in my hands.

“You refused breakfast this morning, remember?” he asked.

I nodded, knowing my stomach would’ve immediately rejected anything I put in it.

“And last night you ate an early dinner before the game…” He rolled his eyes upward like he was recalling the information. “Around five o’clock.”

So more than eighteen hours ago.

Sometimes I wasn’t the sharpest genius in the box. I often neglected my body when I was lost in my brain, but last night?

I’d been lost in…

Him.

That’s what it was. He’d flown my best friends out for my birthday. He’d taken me out to let loose…for once. He’d done everything to ensure I had a good time.

And I had.

Despite this massive hangover.

I’d never had more fun.

Huh, and here I’d thought my best time was mastering another degree of the sciences.

“Harper.”

I blinked a few times and focused on Nathan again. “Hmm?” I asked, sipping.

“Where did you go?”

I licked some stray smoothie off the corner of my mouth, noting the way Nathan’s eyes tracked the move. “Nowhere,” I said, fiddling with the straw. “I just…thank you.”

His eyebrows rose. “For what?”

“For last night. It was beyond fun.”

“Even with the payment this morning?” he asked, reaching up to lightly brush some stray hair off my forehead.

A few drinks and the pain in my head had dulled. I eyed the cup, then him. “Did you put drugs in this?”

He laughed at my drastic change in subject. “Do you honestly think I’d do that?”

“No, but—”

“It’s the hangover smoothie, butterfly. Packed with vitamins and electrolytes, it’s supposed to make you feel better almost instantly.”

I tried not to smile and instead took another drink. Tried to tell my heart to stop it’s fluttering at his silly nickname. Tried to instruct my brain to recalibrate—Nathan was now a friend. That was all.

Nathan placed his hand on my seat’s armrest and propelled himself up and up and…damn he was so tall. Especially when he stood over me like that.

“Drink that slow,” he said. “And let me know if you need another one.” He winked and then walked to the back of the plane, taking his seat across from Lukas—not that I had turned to watch him walk the entire way there or noticed how incredible the man looked in nothing more than some athletic pants and a white tee.