Page 11 of Protecting Player #73 (Portland, Settlers #1 | Gridiron Warriors)
Brea
I t’s been a week since T.K. spent the night in my bed.
We’ve texted a few times, but I haven’t seen him because the team was in Texas for their first preseason game of the year against the San Antonio Rattlers.
They won, of course, but he hasn’t asked to get together, so I’m nervous about going to work tomorrow.
I even cancelled my celebratory dinner with my parents that following night because I couldn’t look them in the eye so soon after T.K. had his wicked way with me.
It’s still hard to believe I allowed us to go so far.
Caught up in the high-intensity emotions, I wanted nothing more.
The drinks simply gave me the courage to accept what he offered.
Since then, things have been tense at home.
Thor is typically supportive of me, encouraging me to expand my knowledge base and reach for the stars, but he’s given me the cold shoulder since watching T.K. walk out of our house the next morning.
Juggling the bag of Chinese takeout in one hand and my keys in the other, I hope to win him over again tonight. The house is silent as I enter. Is Thor even home?
After turning on a few lights, placing the bags on the counter, and pulling out containers, I then notice Thor coming from my end of the house.
Trying not to sound accusatory, I ask, “What were you doing? It was so quiet, I didn’t think you were home.
” Grabbing plates, I try to remain subtle in my curiosity.
“There were some high winds earlier. I thought I heard glass shatter in your bathroom.”
His explanation is plausible. Except… “How weird, I’ve barely felt a breeze all day.” Shrugging, I offer him a plate. “Thought we could have some bad-for-your-cholesterol food and watch even worse reality TV tonight?”
“Sure.” He grabs a container, ignoring my doubt about the wind.
We dish up quietly before settling on the living room sofa and turning on Kitchen Nightmares . I love everything Gordon Ramsey, so I quickly tune out Thor and his weird mood until my plate is empty and a commercial break comes on.
“Be right back. I’m going to go change.”
Darting to my room, I close and lock the door by shoving my vanity chair under the knob like T.K. did. Something I never felt was necessary before.
Entering my walk-in closet, I quickly change into a baggy sweater, leggings, then slip on a pair of thick wool socks. The only time I wear pants is when I’m being lazy at home and want to feel extra comfy.
Afterwards, my eyes roam critically over the room, searching for anything out of place. Any indication that Thor was snooping around in here. This mistrust of someone so close to me is foreign, and I don’t care for it one bit.
Opening the dresser and nightstand drawers, I search the contents of each carefully because my gut is screaming that there’s mischief afoot.
When I reach the top middle drawer of my dresser, I immediately notice the disheveled panties that hide my journal underneath them.
It has been moved, and pages have been bent in the soft-covered book.
Retrieving it, I open to where the pages are kinked and see that he left off at my entry about my night with T.K.
and the way I was falling for him against my better judgment.
After closing the drawer, I toss the journal in my messenger bag.
I never leave that behind, so I don’t worry about him rifling through it again.
I’ll have to figure out how to approach the subject with Thor because there’s no way I can let this go. Invading my privacy is not something I signed up for, and if I ever thought he’d do it, I never would have agreed to move in with him.
After an internal debate about texting Alex, I decide to wait because she will bust in here with guns blazing. When it comes to me, she’s a shoot-first-ask-questions-later type of girl. While I love that about her, this isn’t a jump-to-conclusions situation.
Except…maybe it is.
Crap.
“Everything okay?”
I hear Thor before I see him and quickly toss my bag into the closet while closing drawers and grabbing my hairbrush and a hair band so he doesn’t think I suspect anything.
“Great!” I’m overly cheerful as he stands behind the door, but it’s too late to correct my behavior now. “Just braiding my hair, and I’ll be out!”
I watch the doorknob twist a little, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to ask why it won’t open, but he doesn’t say anything else, and I don’t comment about it.
Dropping onto the edge of my bed, emotions run rampant, and my heart pounds a mile a minute.
I can’t live like this. Worrying that Thor is crossing the line and going through my stuff.
There is no way I can trust him now. If I keep acting weird, he’ll realize why, and despite believing I knew who he was as a person, I obviously don’t, so there’s no telling how he’ll react if I accuse him of snooping through my things.
Rock meet hard place. I’m so stuck in the middle.
Not having heard from T.K. in several days, I certainly can’t call on him, especially when he’s made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t like Thor, plus he wants to jump into a relationship I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for.
That man is a hell of a lot more intense than I ever imagined.
And Alex will only get her lawyer friends to slap on as many lawsuits as they can once I share my suspicions with her.
Which leaves one of my college friends or my parents.
Adeline Strong would take me in, in a heartbeat. She’d never ask why, just wait patiently and give me the space I need. But she’s finally gained some independence from her overbearing family, and I don’t want to encroach on that.
My parents will likely ask as many questions as my sister, then tell her about it when I don’t, because they believe it’s what’s best for me. They wouldn’t be wrong, and I’d never keep this from Alex anyway. I just don’t want everyone in my business until I make a decision.
Going to a hotel is also an option, I suppose. However, spending money when I don’t have to feels like a waste. Torn, I take some time to actually braid my hair while planning my next move before returning to the living room to finish our show, then cleaning up our dinner mess.
“Are you okay, B?” That nickname I always thought was sweet, now grates on my nerves.
“Yup, just a lot going on, and I’m a little distracted, I guess.”
Acting like it’s no big deal, I force myself to remain as normal as possible while also feeling like Ted Bundy is stalking me in my own home.