Page 118 of The Blame Game

Shea was in the living room, sprawled on the couch, looking comfortable in sweats and a tee.

“Hey,” he said, glancing up from his phone. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey,” Dom greeted him.

Shea looked him up and down. “You look great. I’m glad we went with that suit and tie.”

“Me too.” Dom hesitated, unsure of how to talk to Shea, how to explain. “Hey, scoot over.”

With a confused look, Shea moved to the side, leaving a small sliver of couch for Dom to balance one hip on.

He ignored the twinge in his back.

Dom settled a hand on Shea’s chest. “So, I know things ended on a weird note last time,” he said quietly, aware Audra was probably listening. “Can we talk after the gala?”

Shea shifted onto his side, dislodging Dom’s hand. “I don’t know. Tonight’s not great.”

“Oh.” Dom hesitated. “If you have another client, I understand …”

Shea licked his lips. “It’s not that. I just—I have some things to think about.”

“What kind of things?”

“What I want my future to look like.”

Dom raised an eyebrow. That was extremely cryptic. “Okay …”

Shea reached out, tangling their fingers together. “It’s not—it’s not that I don’t want to see you. Or that we shouldn’t talk. I know we need to. I—I just want to be sure my head’s where it needs to be before we do.”

“Okay.” Dom squeezed his fingers, concerned.

For a long moment, he looked into Shea’s eyes, drinking in the sight of his face. And then it hit him that Shea looked tired—there were dark smudges beneath his eyes and his stubble wasn’t the usual neat, clean day or two of growth, but a little longer, a little unkempt.

“Whatever you need,” he promised, lifting their joined hands and pressing his lips to Shea’s knuckles.

The tension in Shea’s face softened. “Thanks. Now, go have fun with Audra.”

“Yeah, fun.” Dom let go of Shea’s hand with one last squeeze, then stood. “I love faking who I am to the entire fucking Fisher Cats organization just to keep the gossip site off my goddamn back.”

“Well, hopefully there’s some good appetizers,” Shea said, a glimmer of his usual humor appearing.

Dom smiled. “Hopefully.”

He bent down, brushed his lips across Shea’s hair, ignoring the flare of pain when he did so. “Have a good night.”

“Thanks. I’m sure it’ll be a blast.” Shea flopped back with a sigh.

Dom hesitated, torn between wanting to push and see what was going on with Shea and knowing that he was already running the risk of being late to the team event.

But Shea had asked for space so, reluctantly, he forced himself to turn away and walk out of the living room.

Audra leaned against the wall, immersed in something on her phone.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Dom said.

She straightened, reaching for a long wool formal coat. “Not a problem. I’m just here to be the eye candy.”

“Well, you’ve accomplished that,” he said, helping her on with the coat. “You’re certainly the most stunning woman I’ve ever had on my arm.”

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