Page 115 of The Love Penalty

She makes me wait five rings before finally answering.

“Hey, babe.”

She sounds nervous, which puts me on immediate alert and probably makes my words a lot snappier than I mean them to be. “Where are you?”

“Um…”

“Why’d you just take off?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.” I hear the catch in her voice, and my eyes narrow as I stalk to my closet and start pulling out my clothes for the day.

“Where are you right now?”

“Well, I…” She tuts. “The thing is…” She sighs again, and now my internal alarm system is going nuts, because Lani does not struggle to articulate herself. Ever.

“Boo,” I grit out, struggling to keep my emotions in check. I have no idea why my insides are raging, but something is off. “I need you tell me what’s going on.”

“Okay, fine, but I’m safe.”

“That’s not helping.” I shake my head. “Why do I need to worry about your safety right now?”

“You don’t.” Her tone gets sharp. “That’s what I’m saying.”

Snapping my eyes shut, I fist the shirt in my hand and squeeze the crap out of it. “You don’t tell someone you’re safe unless you’re worried they think you might not be. Where are you?” It’s impossible not to raise my voice.

She pauses, then clears her throat. “I’m at the football frat… trying to find some kind of evidence.”

“You… What?” My eyebrows pop high. “You’re there?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?” My voice pitches as I put her on speakerphone and start throwing on my clothes with an urgency that no doubt looks comical.

“Yes. I just said I was here.”

“With all those guys? By yourself!”

“Asher, seriously, I’m fine.”

“If even one of them tries to touch you,” I growl, wrestling with my belt buckle, which is being a stubborn ass and not finding the correct hole. “Put them on the phone!”

CHAPTER 51

LEILANI

Asher’s indignant rage is maybe a little funny. If he wasn’t so worried about me, I’d probably laugh, because he’s seriously making a big deal out of nothing.

So far, these football players have been nothing but helpful and sweet. Right now, we’re sitting at the dining room table, a laptop open in front of us as Wily types in his password.

With an apologetic wince, I pass my phone to Zander, who is the quarterback. I found that out a few minutes ago.

“What?” He stares at the phone.

“My boyfriend wants to have a quick word.”

He gives me a dubious frown before taking the phone and pressing it against his ear. “Hello?” He flinches, his face going through a myriad of expressions—surprise, confusion, irritation. “Can you just take a breath for a second? You’re gonna pop a blood vessel.” He sighs and rolls his eyes. “We don’t do that shit here.” His irritation comes back in a flash. “Hey! It wasn’t one of my guys… Yeah, well, that’s why we’re helping her!” He clenches his jaw, and I cringe as I hear Asher’s muffled tone rise a few notches higher. “Fine… Yes… You have my word.”

Hanging up with a definitive tap to my screen, he thrusts the phone back at me and mutters, “Your boyfriend’s paranoid.”

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