Double The Ache
“I called the boys this morning when news broke about everything. Told them to come in so we could talk.” My dad shoots a look at both of them.
“We were going to talk to you about it. Things just progressed faster than we thought they would.”
“I really don’t need those details,” my dad says, cutting Dean off. “After I saw the video I knew how serious they were about you. These boys don’t cause trouble. They keep their noses clean, so to get involved in a brawl meant something. I also knew there would be fallout. Nothing too big. Maybe two games’ suspension at most, if even that. Besides, I’d be more pissed if they had not handed the guy his ass after what he said about you.” My cheeks burn hearing that my dad knows what the man said.
Both Wes and Dean squeeze my hands.
“Players often move from team to team.” My dad keeps going. “Their contract is up soon and, well, I wanted them locked in. Not just because they’re well worth it but I don’t want them taking off with you. I just got you here.”
“Dad.” My heart melts at that.
“We aren’t taking her from you,” Dean chimes in.
“We aren’t sharing her with a bunch of people either,” Wes growls. I glance over at him, not knowing what the heck that means.
“The contract stipulated that you are their physical therapist,” Dad says, pulling my attention back to him.
“Well, if they play for the team, then of course I am,” I respond, at a loss as to where this is going.
“You’re only their physical therapist. You are always by their side in case they need you for something.”
I have a feeling it isn’t my physical therapy skills they will be calling on most of the time. I’m not sure how to respond. I don’t know if I should laugh, scream or burst into happy tears.
“I…”
“You’ll still oversee the other two physical therapists we have on staff, making sure you agree with what they’re doing and setting the pace. You’re in charge of all of it.”
“Don’t be mad at us,” Wes says, leaning down. I look up into his eyes. “We’ve been looking for you for forever. We need you close now that we’ve found you.” My belly does a little flip.
“Give us this and we’ll give you everything you could ever want,” Dean adds.
“I have a feeling you two are going to tag team against me all the time, aren’t you?” I blush when I realize what I said. Dean laughs and Wes covers his with a cough. My dad mumbles something I don’t catch and don’t want to know.
Dean kisses me and I get lost for a moment until my dad clears his throat.
“Take her home and keep her hidden for a while. Let all this die down.”
“On it,” Wes says as he picks me up and carries me away without another word.
Chapter Eleven
Amelia
Luckily there’s an underground garage in our building. We got in without really being noticed. The dark windows of the SUV prevented people looking in and ensured we didn’t get photographed. I sit in the center of the bed looking down at my phone, which keeps going off every two seconds. I’m surprised the battery hasn’t given out already.
Wes and Dean are on the phone with their parents. Their phones keep blowing up with calls from them. They wanted to call them later, but I told them to call them now. They love their mom and dad and I didn’t want them worrying about them worrying. I wasn’t going anywhere. They could take a few minutes to call them.
My phone lights up again and my mother’s name flashes across the screen. “Are you going to answer that?” Wes asks, leaning up against the doorframe of the bedroom. Dean walks in and tosses himself onto the bed next to me, his weight making me bounce. He looks over at my phone.
“It’s your mom.”
“Hence why I’m not answering it.” I power it off and toss it onto the side table. On the edge of the table I glimpse the note they left. “Also, don’t leave a note when you leave. Wake me up.” I try to scold them, but they only smile at me.
“We wanted to get things taken care of before you woke up. Thought we’d make it back before then,” Dean admits.
“I was sure we wore you out good enough for that to happen,” Wes adds, pushing away from the door and joining us on the bed. “Still fucking pissed those camera guys got in your face.”
I reach for Wes and wrap myself around his back before he can stand up. He keeps wanting to go downstairs and give them a piece of his mind. Okay, maybe a piece of his fist. I stop him because it will only add fuel to the fire and give them what they want—another story to make my perfect men look bad. I won’t let that happen.