Page 15

15

BLAKELY

I knew he was out with his brother tonight. Not because I care that much about what he does in his personal life, but because in the few texts we sent this week, he mentioned it more than once. I didn’t know about the purses, though.

It is nice to see how deeply he cares for his brother. Or, really, his entire family. There’s a connection he has with them that I admire. It’s loyalty and love in the purest form. The same emotions that I feel for Nate.

My stomach tightens as I keep Jamie’s heavy arm around my shoulders and help him up the stairs. The apartment is on the third floor, and I’ve never wished we had an elevator more.

“Do you eat rocks for breakfast?” I ask between rough breaths.

He leans his head against mine and heaves himself up another few steps. “I prefer bricks. Crunchier.”

“Do you ever stop joking around?”

“Does it bother you when I do it?”

I grip the railing and cringe at how slick my palm is as it slides down with every step I take. Jamie yawns in my ear and stumbles hard enough that my side hits the railing.

I hiss in pain and grit my teeth, keeping us moving .

“I’m sorry,” Jamie slurs, reaching his arm around both of us to rub at my side. “Did I hurt you?”

My cheeks thump with a blush as he palms my side and his forearm pushes into my chest. His eyes are glassy but innocent, which is the only reason I haven’t let go of him and watched him tumble down three flights of stairs.

Carefully, I release the railing and take his hand from where it’s gently massaging the soreness away. He continues to watch me while I remove his arm and leave it lying limp at his side.

“I’m okay,” I say. “It was just a bump.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Did I wake you up?”

I guide us up the final step and into the hall. “No. I was already awake.”

“Sweet. I just didn’t want to go home without seeing my fiancée first.”

On instinct, I look at the doors we pass, making sure they’re shut. There are some nosey and not-so-great people in this place, and I don’t trust that they won’t try something if they see him here and recognize who he is.

My heart thumps harder and harder as we close in on my apartment. Nate was heading to bed when I left, so he shouldn’t be up to see Jamie come in. Still, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s changed his mind and decided to stay up on the couch for another few hours.

“Is fiancée going to be the new bandit?” I ask, keeping my voice hushed.

“Mm, I was thinking of skipping the whole fiancée thing and going with wife instead.”

I ignore the jump of my pulse and lean him against the wall. My keys dig into my palm as I unlock the door and toe it open.

“Nate’s sleeping, so try and be as quiet as you can,” I whisper, dropping his arm back over my shoulder.

He nods once, making sure it’s dramatic as fuck. “Got it. ”

With my heel, I close the door behind us. It’s easier not to look at him for a reaction when he takes his time inspecting the place in the dark. Instead of dwelling on whether he thinks I live in a dumpster compared to his big fancy home, I turn my focus on getting him to the couch.

It’s already pulled out and dressed in sheets and a blanket. The ones that haven’t been washed in a week . . .

“I’ll change the sheets for you. Just sit for now and try not to make any noise. The walls are thin,” I ramble, on edge and growing more nervous the longer he’s here.

He furrows his brows, not giving me a vocal reply as he looks around the apartment. The shoes that he kicks off his feet are probably worth more than all the furniture in this place, and the polo shirt he left on the filthy street had one of those fancy logos on the upper-right corner that may as well be a big fat dollar sign.

I’ve never allowed anyone to make me feel small, but right now, even without him trying, I can’t help but wish I just had more . More money and space and someplace that I’m proud to show off.

Instead, I have a single pull-out couch that counts as my bedroom and a bathroom that most definitely is sprouting mould.

He smooths his hand across the thick sheets and offers me a simple but kind smile. “Don’t change the sheets. But if you have an extra blanket, I wouldn’t mind using that. I might freeze on the ground without one.”

“The ground?”

“Did you think I was going to take your bed from you?”

“I’m offering it to you.”

It must have been the fact it was already made up prior to his arrival that clued him in to it being where I sleep at night. Embarrassing as it may be, there’s clearly no hiding that.

He uses a two-handed grip on the thin mattress to lower himself to the ground. “Too late. ”

“You’re going to sleep on the floor in those clothes?”

His laugh is like a gentle stroke of a hand up my back. Warm and reassuring. “I could strip completely, if you prefer?”

At least I’d have a good view before I shut my eyes.

“I’ll get you a blanket,” I mutter before leaving him there.

Keeping my steps as muted as possible, I peek into Nate’s room and sigh at the sight of him splayed out in the bed, the blanket tangled around his legs. He snores softly, relaxed and completely unaware that his favourite football player is about to sleep on his living room floor.

I close the door and snag a blanket from the small linen closet. It’s nowhere near big enough to properly cover a man as big as Jamie, but it’ll have to do for tonight. At least it’s clean.

When I get back to the living room, he’s already lying on the ground with an arm folded behind his head. I step around him and hold out the blanket.

“It’s not too late to get a cab home,” I mutter when he takes the blanket and drapes it over his legs.

“Nah. Already comfortable here.”

I lay my hands in my lap and perch on the edge of the bed. “Alright.”

“Unless you want me to go. If you’re not comfortable with me staying the night?—”

“No. It’s not that. I’m just overthinking,” I admit heavily.

“Overthinking what?”

Frustration bubbles up inside of me. I scoot back onto the bed and angrily kick my feet beneath the covers. Glaring at the bumpy ceiling, I take the risk of opening up a bit to him.

“That you’re lying down there grossed out and judging my home. It’s not much, but it’s what I’ve got.”

He’s silent for a beat. It’s a long enough pause for me to contemplate suffocating myself with my pillow.

“I’m not much for judging, Bandit. I’ve been to my fair share of designer houses all over the world, and very few of them felt like homes more than they did a boring display of wealth. ”

I pull the blanket up over my mouth and shut my eyes. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not. Husband’s honour.”

“Like I said before, I don’t even have a ring yet.”

“No, but you do have a purse.”

I’m grateful for the darkness and the blanket that keeps him from seeing the smile that peels my lips apart. It feels like a secret.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.”

“If you don’t sneak out at the break of dawn, Nate will see you when he wakes up.”

He scoffs. “You’re not a bad hookup. I’ll be here. He needs to learn about what’s happening.”

“What are we even supposed to tell him? The truth or the lie?”

“What do you want to tell him?”

I want to sneak a look down at where he lies on the ground, but it’s so silent he’d hear me moving around and tease me about staring.

“We both signed an NDA. Wouldn’t telling him the truth be breaking it?”

“Not if nobody found out that we did.”

I contemplate that, knowing he’s right. “Nathan’s too smart to fall for a lie.”

“So we tell him the truth,” he declares, sounding like he’s on the brink of passing out on me.

“That . . . I’d appreciate that, Jamie.”

He yawns and then groans while moving around on the ground. “It’s my pleasure.”

Without a second thought, I slide the pillow out from under my head and hang it over the edge of the bed.

“Here. I have an extra one,” I lie.

He takes it from me and shifts again. “I have the sweetest wife. ”

“Good night, Pretty Boy,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

“Sweet dreams, Bandit.”

Even with the mattress beneath my head, it’s better than the floor. I don’t want to be in trouble for putting the Pythons’ star wide receiver in such terrible sleeping conditions. If he pulled his back out and couldn’t play, the fans would be outside with pitchforks.

That’s why I offered him my only pillow.

Totally.

“Um. What’s going on here?”

I roll from my side to my back and wince at the sharp pain in my neck. It’s bright as shit in here too. When I open my eyes, I immediately cover them with my arm before freezing, realizing who spoke.

“Morning, Nate,” I say, fully aware that the moment I put my arm down, I’m going to see my brother gaping at the man on the floor. “How did you sleep?”

“Looks pretty well rested to me,” Jamie rasps.

I press my arm harder into my eyes when his husky tone fills the room, and a shiver travels down my spine.

“You—You’re Jamieson Bateman. You’re the best wide receiver in the CFL. This is my house. My living room—Jamieson Bateman is in my living room! How? And why? What? Did you . . . Is this why the door was unlocked this morning?”

There’s a record scratch in my ears. I drop my arm to the couch and push up to stare at Nate. “The door was unlocked?”

He doesn’t stop staring at the floor. “Yeah. I locked it before I noticed this .”

“I don’t leave the door unlocked,” I mutter .

But he’s right. I don’t remember locking it behind us or double-checking before I fell asleep. That hasn’t ever happened.

“Can we talk about this later?” He holds a hand to the one side of his mouth in a pitiful attempt to hide what he’s saying from Jamie and hisses, “When we don’t have football royalty in our living room.”

I groan, rubbing my eyes. “Don’t flatter him. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Nate gawks at me like I’ve grown a second head before going back to Jamie. “I’m so sorry. She’s very uncultured in the world of football.”

“Nate,” I warn.

“It’s okay. We still have time to teach her,” Jamie says, the tease in his tone just for me. “It’s nice to meet you, man.”

“It’s nice to meet you too!” Nate clears his throat and deepens his tone, shoulders rolling back. “I mean, yeah, it’s cool.”

I drop my gaze to Jamie for the first time this morning, trying to get a feel for what he’s thinking about my brother. His loose grin settles me somewhat.

“How long have you been up?” I ask my brother.

“Only a few minutes.”

“Did you sleep well?” It’s painfully obvious that I’m just trying to busy myself with pointless questions right now.

Jamie leans against the mattress and drops his shoulder to look at me, reading me to filth. “I slept like a baby, Blakely. Thank you for asking.”

It was stupid to hope that he’d wake up looking like a goblin. One sweep of my eyes over his perfectly sleep-rustled hair is enough to have me contemplating hiding beneath my blanket before he can get a good look at my messiness.

“Your sister tells me that you play ball?” Jamie says, releasing my eyes and looking forward at Nate. He stretches his arm across his chest, the bare curves of his shoulders flexing above the mattress with the effort .

Of course he’s still shirtless. Would it have really been that hard for a raccoon to have crawled into the apartment and brought him his shirt back from the street while we slept? I’m going to have every single inch of his torso burned into my memory at this rate.

Nate’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull. “Yes! I’m a wide receiver.”

“That’s my man. It’s the best position to play.”

“Exactly!”

Jamie stands and twists to crack his back before offering my brother his fist to pound. “You hungry?”

Nate jumps at the opportunity, a toothy grin spreading his lips as their knuckles bump.

“Nate’s always hungry,” I drawl, craning my neck back to look up at my fiancé .

Jamie rolls his lip between his teeth and offers me a hand. “And you? Care to join me for breakfast, Bandit?”

There’s only one answer to his question.

“As if I have a choice.”