Page 29

TWENTY-EIGHT

Damon

Fuck, she’s beautiful, even in the morning.

Sunshine pouring in through the windows, creating patterns on her skin I want to trace with my fingers and tongue.

But we were up late last night.

Enjoying that first sundae, chasing it with pizza and beer, then enjoying the second sundae I ordered for her just as much—even though she was the one eating it.

Of course, because she was licking it off my naked body, I wasn’t complaining.

The only thing we didn’t get to was the bath.

But I have plans for that…preferably the jetted one in my master bathroom after I’ve sent my sister away for a long weekend.

Now, though, she’s out, as in out so I’m going to let her sleep while I get some fresh clothes and then search out some food for us.

She’ll have work to do—she always does.

So food and work and then I’m going to sweep her away for something fun.

Because she hasn’t had enough fun in her life.

Bending, I press my lips to her naked shoulder, smiling when she sighs and burrows into the pillows, then quietly dress in my stiff and sticky clothes.

I snag the keycard from the dresser, shove it into my pocket, and slip from the room.

Unfortunately, my focus on that slipping, on closing the door quietly so as not to wake her up means that I don’t make sure the hall is clear.

And because of that?—

“Hey.”

I miss that one of my players, Colt, is behind me.

I jump, nearly undoing all that slipping and quiet then turn to look at the power forward.

He’s studying me with shrewd brown eyes—eyes that flick down to my chest and pants—before coming back up to mine.

“Morning,” I mutter.

He’s silent for a beat then says, “Yeah, seems like you had a good one.” He smirks. “Or a good night anyway.”

Before I can comment on that, he starts off down the hall.

“Right,” I say under my breath, thankful he’s not going to make this anymore awkward than it already is.

Then again, I’ve seen the parade of women flowing in and out of his hotel room.

The other man has no room to talk.

A door slams down the hall and I shake myself.

Ass in gear.

Clean clothes. Food. Not fucking up the morning after I finally got my head straight about Joey, after she’s finally admitted she wants me back.

Thankfully, there are no further hiccups as I accomplish the first—taking a quick shower, throwing on a fresh shirt and pants.

The second part of that, though…

“You need to promise me something.”

I still, mid-load-up of my two plates at the breakfast buffet, and glance over at the kid who’s trying to murder me with his stare.

Considering I wanted to do the same thing to him yesterday, I clamp a lid on my temper.

“Storm,” I say quietly. “Good game last night.”

His expression doesn’t change in the least. “I need you to promise me something.”

I exhale silently, know that as much as I don’t want to have this conversation here and now—let alone anywhere or ever —the kid clearly has something to say to me. “What do you need me to promise you?”

“You need to protect her.”

I blink. “Joey?”

His eyes flash. “Yeah, fucking Joey.”

“Look, kid?—”

“I’m not a fucking kid,” he snaps. “I’m old enough to know that what I want isn’t reciprocated. I get that. I’m not exactly cool with it, but I’m not one of those fucks who takes what he wants no matter if a woman wants it or not, so I’ll deal. But what I need from you ”—he steps closer, voice dropping, threat laced through every syllable—“is for you to promise me that you’ll protect her, that you’ll look after her, that you’ll make sure she’s happy and loved and safe.”

The word loved sends a bolt of panic through me, but I shove it down enough to focus on the rest of his words.

“Because she deserves that much and more,” he says. “She deserves the world and—” He exhales sharply. “She deserves a man who can give that to her.”

“Storm,” I begin.

“Promise me, Damon.”

I settle a hand on his shoulder, hold tight when he goes to shake me off. “I know exactly how precious a gift I have, okay?”

He opens his mouth.

“So, I’m not going to squander it or throw it away.” My fingers flex. “But I can also promise you that I’ll look after her. That I’ll protect her and keep her safe and happy.”

His nostrils flare.

I shake him lightly. “Okay?”

He nods. “Okay.”

“Now, I need you to promise me something.”

His eyes hold mine, flaring with frustration, a muscle in his jaw ticking. But to his credit, he just blows out a breath then asks quietly, “What do you need me to promise you?”

“That you’ll start looking after yourself.” I drop my hand. “That you’ll start focusing on what you can have and then you’ll enjoy the fuck out of it.”

He’s still for a long moment.

Then he blows out another breath. But I don’t miss that it’s paired with his lips curving up, with amusement sliding into his eyes. “I can’t promise that.”

I open my mouth.

“But I can promise to give it my best fucking try.”

I clap him on the shoulder and grin. “That’s all I can ask, kid.”

A shake of his head, the anger leaving his frame—and I’m fucking glad for it. He deserves more too.

He grabs his plate and starts to turn away.

Then pauses, looks back.

“I’m never going to outgrow that, am I?”

“Being called a kid?”

He nods.

“Nah.” I chuckle. “Sorry, kid. You’re stuck with it forever.”

A sigh.

But he’s smiling as he walks away.

I am too as I finish loading up my plates then hit the elevators, eyes hitting on a brochure by the front desk that has Joey’s name written all over it.

I put the plates down, snag it, scanning the description.

After I make a quick call, my smile widens even further.

Because I know this is right, this is exactly what Joey and I both need, and I’m smiling because I know that in less than two minutes I’ll be pushing through the door to her room, seeing that gorgeous naked body of hers that I can touch and stroke, kiss and hold.

So fuck yeah, I’m smiling.

Because I know I’m returning to something sweeter than life itself.