Page 54 of Only Between Us

Brooks looks just as the woman glances over her shoulder. He pulls a face, giving her his back. “Lyndsay Brown. Her husband was with the Rebels in the earlier years of my career. She and my ex are friendly.”

My stomach sinks. “Do you think she could’ve heard—”

“How’re things at home?” Brooks interrupts, grinning as Bonnie Hartley turns back to us, putting away the phone she’d been typing at.

Bonnie gives a small laugh. “Mya’s giving the nanny hell. Keeps bartering for more bedtime stories.”

I fiddle with a bar napkin. “How many kids do you have?”

Feigning interest in my fake boyfriend’s potential colleagues is part of the deal, but I genuinely enjoyed hanging out with Bonnie and the other women today. It felt like a day out with girl friends, watching our guys play in ass-hugging pants. In that way, I miss the comradery of a pro-sports family.

Not that I’d ever admit that to Brooks, when it feels like we’re moving past the wholeSiena Pippen is a gold-digging hanger-onthing.

Bonnie flicks through her phone and hands it to me. “We have one girl. Mya is nine.”

“She’s adorable.” I tilt the phone to show Brooks a photo of the girl with hair so blond, it borders on white. “You remind me of me and my mom. A brunette and a blond.”

Bonnie takes back her phone, smiling down at the picture. “We adopted her when she was five. Can’t go anywhere without getting at least a few comments from strangers, though. I do worry it’ll get to her one day.”

I feel a fresh wave of appreciation for the woman in front of me. Mom and I used to get that all the time. “Trust me, it won’t matter in the long run. She’ll love you more than she’ll care about inappropriate strangers. Blood relation is totally overrated.”

“It sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

I smile at Bonnie. “I was fostered at thirteen.”

Brooks looks over. “You’re a foster kid?”

“Yeah, I am.” I’ve never been ashamed of this part of my life; how could I be, when it was the best thing to happen to me? “My birth parents up and left one day. No explanation.”

“And you ended up in the system?”

“Not exactly. I hid out in our old house for a few months after they left and broke into homes around town to steal food. My parents—the ones who eventually took me in—caught me raiding their fridge in the middle of the night. I remember thinking I’d be in juvie by sunrise. But they ended up giving me a whole new life.”

I smile to myself, remembering the way Dad and I stood in the dark kitchen with our hands up. Mine in surrender, waiting for him to call the police. His because he didn’t want to scare me.

Scare me. As though he hadn’t just caught me breaking into his house.

Brooks stares at my anchor necklace, the way it shimmers under the overhead lights. “You didn’t have any other family to stay with?”

I take a long sip of my sparkling water. “There was an aunt on my mom’s side. I didn’t want to live with her.”

And my parents were made to pay for that decision in the cruelest way. Over and over, starting just a year after they took me in.

“You didn’t know this about her?” Shawn and Bonnie exchange a look.

Shit.

Brooks glances at me. Because I’m his girlfriend of nine months, and he should definitely know this about me.

“Of course he knows,” I say quickly, stroking the hair off his face. “It’s… the old concussion. It creeps up on us sometimes. He even called me by another woman’s name the other day. I swear, I came within an inch of chopping off his balls, thinking he’d been messing around on me.”

The arm he’d had draped along the edge of the bar drops, and Brooks squeezes my hip in warning. I try not to laugh.

“Of course. Head injuries are part of the deal in our world.” Bonnie nods in understanding. “Most of our husbands are the same way.”

“Shawn calls you by another woman’s name, too?” I inject just the right amount of hope into my voice.

“God no, that’s fuckingawful—” Shawn catches himself and winces at Brooks. “No offense, man.”