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Chapter Forty-One

W hen Miller’s face drains of color, my stomach flips. Anxiety builds in my belly, and I’m not sure if it’s mine or his. Perhaps both…

“What’s going on?” I ask, knowing there are repercussions for players who go against the league’s strict morality and professionalism codes. Though the league protects players’ privacy and personal lives, they are still role models and must comport themselves as such. Fines, suspensions, and even banning have occurred if a player gets in enough trouble.

I’ll never forgive myself if I’ve destroyed his career.

“That message was from my agent. He says I’m going to need to come forward and explain my actions immediately or risk ejection from the league.” Miller runs his hand through his dark hair, giving it a tug of frustration as he listens to another message. He stands up, pacing a divot into the plush carpet as he sorts through the implications of my heat. As he goes back and forth, brow furrowed in anger, I tuck my knees up to my chest. His rage becomes my rage, his stress flowing like a river down the bond. Hunching forward, I press into the couch cushions, overwhelmed by the torrent coursing through him.

A soft purr starts in my chest; my omega’s attempt to calm my worried Alpha. The second Miller hears the noise, he closes his phone and drops beside me on the couch, holding me close like nothing could ever come between us.

“I-I’m sorry,” I croak, trying not to break into sobs. The last thing I want is to make Miller feel like he needs to comfort me when it’s his career at stake.

And it’s all my fault.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” he insists, but I know that’s not true. If I had skipped the fair and come straight back to the apartment when I was feeling off, we wouldn’t be in this mess. If I had never gone on that stupid date with Alex, Miller wouldn’t have needed to save me. All the what-ifs fill my brain, tumbling over each other like wishes on the wind. There are so many ways that I messed up—and now it’s likely Miller will have to pay the price.

“We need to go see my dad,” I say, knowing as co-owner of the Feral Feckers, he’s our only shot at salvation. Miller hugs me tighter, heart thumping against my ear.

“He left a message. But his only concern was for you. I’m afraid we have a furious Willie Moore on our hands.” Miller kisses the top of my head, his churro scent acrid with nerves. I know he wanted to tell my father before we bonded. Dad’s approval was a big deal for him, but what’s done is done. We can’t go back, and honestly, I wouldn’t want to.

“It’ll be okay. Why don’t you text my dad and tell him we will meet him wherever’s most convenient?” I squeeze Miller’s knee, offering him all the support I can. He’s worried, but I know my parents best—they’re all bark. Once everything settles, I would bet on them being over the moon that Miller’s my mate. He nods stiffly, and I kiss his cheek quickly. “Then let’s get ready to face this head-on. They can’t kick you off the team for protecting me. I won’t allow it.”

My childhood home looms larger than life, more foreboding than ever before. Perhaps it’s the time spent away, or the gray sky threatening rain, but something feels off, unwelcoming. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as the gravel crunches below Miller’s SUV.

The driveway is fuller than it should be. Both of my fathers’ cars wait out front, but off to the side, I spot Owen’s flashy yellow sports car. He rarely drives it, but I remember when he bought it with his first major league check.

“Looks like Big Brother decided to come for the fireworks,” Miller grumbles, turning off the SUV. He pins me with a stare. “I’ll come to your door. Please? ”

Knowing it’s more for his own reassurance than the belief I can’t open a car door on my own, I nod. “It’s going to be fine. Probably better than fine—they love you more than me.” I try to make a joke, but it falls flat, and Miller reaches across the seat to run his thumb over my lips. Warm heat pools low in my belly, always ready and willing for my Alpha.

“No one is more loveable than you,” he growls, giving me a quick but passionate kiss. When he pulls away, I’m left breathless and barely notice as he gets out of the car and makes his way around. The door opens with a chilly blast, and as I take Miller’s hand, I can’t help but look at the ominous sky. A cold drop of liquid splats on my nose, and more fall to dot the walkway ahead, making me shiver.

“Let’s do this thing,” I say as we hustle toward the house. We’re mere steps away when the door swings open, and my mom runs outside.

“Posie. Oh, thank God!” she wails, rushing down the stairs and into the rain. Her arms are open wide, and the strain on her face makes my stomach ache. Letting go of Miller’s hand, I embrace her, shocked at the way she’s shaking. My mother has always seemed larger than life, a strict but loving presence who keeps everyone in line. Even with two big Alphas around, she’s always ruled the roost.

“Hi, Mama.” I kiss her cheek, then step back and reach for Miller, unmoored by the loss of his touch. “How was the trip?”

“It was lovely until you stopped our nightly calls. We rushed home and couldn’t find our daughter anywhere,” she sniffles. “You were supposed to be safe at home. Look what happens when we agree to more independence. ”

She’s working herself up into a state, trembling and upset. The rain begins to splatter down harder; the droplets pinging on the rooftop, warning that more is on the way. I need to get her inside before the skies open up. Thankfully, Miller’s right by my side, and he uses his gentle but commanding presence to usher us toward the open door.

“I know. I’m sorry for the fright, but we have so much to tell you,” I promise as we finally enter the warm house. It’s a welcome respite from the spring rain, which quickly becomes a deluge as we close the door with a thud.

“And we all want to hear it.” Papa’s voice sounds down the hallway. Always the calmest of my parents, I know he’ll help keep everyone levelheaded. He stands near the entrance to the kitchen and gestures us forward. “Let’s go sit together at the table.”

Making quick work of our shoes, we leave them behind and slowly follow my mother. Miller’s hand warms mine, and I do my best to send calm and steady love down the bond. It feels special to be the one comforting him for once. He’s saved me so many times; there’s power in knowing that sometimes he needs me, too.

As I run my thumb over his fingers, he gradually relaxes, and his posture grows less rigid. We’re in love, and nothing my parents say or do can tear us apart.

I won’t let it.