Defender (Seattle Sharks 9)

“Isn’t part of the fun not knowing?” he asked into my ear, his warm breath tickling down my neck.

I leaned back enough for him to see my face, and he laughed.

“Right,” he said. “You have to have an answer for everything.”

“I don’t have to. I enjoy to.” I shrugged. “I speak French and Italian. I never thought I’d be whisked away to Sweden by my best friend’s boss…boyfriend…whatever they are.”

Nathan laughed, his eyes reflecting in the flickering lights that illuminated the room in sharp bursts in time with the music. “I could hunt down Axel and ask him to translate the music for you.”

I studied his face, noting his obvious lack of comment on Lukas and Faith’s situation, and smiled at him. Not only did he have his best friend’s back, but he also would hunt down the enormous, slightly terrifying Swede, and ask him to translate the song for me.

I glanced around the room, wondering where Axel and Langley had run off to. My eyes widened when I spotted them, and I choked back a laugh. I reached up behind me, not wanting to lose sight of them in the enormous crowd, and tugged on Nathan’s neck until his cheek was against mine, my back pressing against his chest.

“I think he’s got his hands full,” I said, holding Nathan’s face against mine so he could have the perfect eye line to the sight, and slightly marveling at the fact that he’d let me maneuver him in this way. He was, after all, incredibly strong and twice my size. He could’ve easily refused.

“Where…oh fucking hell.”

That was the moment that Langley had went from merely dancing wildly near the bar to climbing on top of it, bee-lining for one of the empty human cages. Axel hurried after her but seemed content to watch her climb into that cage and let off a bit of steam.

“Ten bucks says he has to drag her out of there,” Nathan said.

“Twenty says he has to throw her over his shoulder like a caveman.”

Nathan turned his head enough to meet my eyes, the movement shifting his incredibly muscled body behind mine, sending another electric wave of heat along my skin.

“You’re on.”

I blinked out of the memory, realizing I was clutching the tumbler in my hand much harder than necessary. Faith—who understood my ability to get lost in my head—was patient as ever and waiting.

I shifted in my seat, taking a calming breath to cool the heat racing through my veins.

“Nothing happened in Sweden.”

Faith huffed and sank back in her chair. “You are so stubborn.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

She laughed, which made me laugh, which made my head zing like someone had hit a baseball bat against a bell. I winced and quickly finished the rest of the magical smoothie.

Faith remained next to me, quiet, content, switching from glancing at me to looking out the window. Waiting me out. Seeing if I would finally tell her what had happened.

But I couldn’t tell her anything.

Because, truthfully, there was nothing to tell. Nathan and I hadn’t kissed. We hadn’t had a vacation fling.

He’d merely…been there.

Anchoring me.

And I hadn’t realized until recently how long I’d been searching for someone to do exactly that.

Chapter 7

Noble

“So what exactly are we doing this for?” I asked as Harper tinkered with my helmet on the metal lab table.

She paused, still elbow deep in my helmet. “You honestly don’t remember?”

“You said, ‘I need to adjust the sensors before the game tonight.’ So here I am, smoothies-in-hand, at your lab as asked.” I lounged in the armed office chair, rocking slightly.

“You seriously came all the way down here without making me explain?” She chewed on her lower lip.

“Well, yeah. I got your text as I finished my morning skate, and I already had my helmet, so I came over.” I shrugged and took a sip of my post-workout smoothie that I’d split with her. I’d gotten accustomed to simply making twice as much on days I knew I’d see her, but today had been a surprise. “Why are you so shocked?”

“Huh. I guess…” She blew a stray strand of brown silk from her face. “My family is...well, they’re my family, and time is a currency to them. So no one would just drop what they’re doing without a thorough explanation as to why they were needed and if it’s a worthy investment of their time.”

Using my feet, I wheeled the chair over to look up at her. “That’s really clinical,” I spoke each word slowly, carefully, hoping I wouldn’t offend her.

“We’re a very clinical family. I mean, my older brother would absolutely have brought me his helmet, if he had one. And we see family time as an investment in our relationships, so it’s not that we don’t do things together, or have moments.”

“Moments?” I couldn’t think of anything more different from the way I’d grown up.