Page 87 of Lace 'em Up

I’m standing outside the locker room, feeling a little nervous.

Because…

King is inside and he asked me to come and…I’m wearing the ring.

Stupid, right?

I just broke up with my fiancé and I’m nowhere near ready for a new relationship, and further that, King hasn’t given any indication that he wants one?—

Aside from demanding I stay at his place.

But that’s just him being a good guy. He’s got a protective streak. He’s demonstrated that time and again.

And anyway, he’s made it clear to everyone far and wide that he’s not interested in a relationship. It’s why I despised him so much after seeing those posts.

A case of social media being true.

Only…it’s not.

I bite back a sigh. None of this matters. We’re only staying together now to save him from those matchmaking efforts of his mom and because Phillip is out there on bail somewhere and King’s place is safe…

And King is a good guy.

Just not my guy.

Even if he fucked me senseless for twenty-four hours.

When someone shows you who they are, tells you what they want…

Well, I’ve learned that’s something I need to pay attention to.

Ha.

Sure, I have.

Right around the time that Phillip closed his hands around my throat and started to squeeze.

Stupid.

I swallow hard, trying to shake off the feeling of that hand, the fear that’s shredded my insides, but it doesn’t want to let go easily, doesn’t want to pull the barbed spikes from my heart, my mind, my soul?—

“Hey, gorgeous.”

I jump, hands clenching into fists, jaw clamping together so tightly that I bite the inside of my cheek hard, drawing blood, the sharp tang of copper clinging to my taste buds. But even as I’m processing that razor-edged flavor, I’m looking up…

And seeing Patrick Buchanan standing in front of me.

Wearing a smirk, his eyes cold, and his body far too close.

I know that Rome, King, and Cam can’t stand this guy. I know that Chrissy thinks he’s an arrogant jerk who spends his spare time trying to fuck with Rome and King and Cam and the rest of the locker room.

I know that—despite that—she also doesn’t find him particularly dangerous.

But my spidey sense is tingling.

After Phillip…well, let’s just say that it’s been honed to a fine point.

I note the sharp edges of his expression, his body nearly brushing mine, the way he came so close before announcing himself.

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