Page 29 of The Love You Win

Isla doesn’t strike me as the type of woman who’d be happy with a night or two of no-strings-attached sex. She might try to hide it, but she’s got hopeless romantic mounted in blinking neon letters above her head.

It’s well after midnight, and while my teammates are still going strong, Isla’s fading. She’s doing these adorable slow blinks and answers half of the questions posed to her with a sleepy ‘hmm?’ And with every passing minute, she’s melting into my side a little more. That’s how I know it’s time to bring her home. Because after the asshat from earlier left and there was no more reason to pretend we were together, she hadn’t touched me once. In fact, she’s been very careful not to. So when her head lolls onto my shoulder, I clear my throat to get the guys’ attention.

When Griffin sees her dozing against me, his face breaks into an ultra-wide smile. He takes out his phone and snaps a few photos despite my scowl and turns to Navarro. “For when they get married,” he whispers. “We can pull this out and say we were there the night they fell in love.” Griff clasps his hands together over his heart and flutters his eyelashes dramatically. He looks ridiculous.

“Shut the fuck up,” I grumble.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m texting them to you now.” He blows me a kiss, and I sigh, but there’s no hiding the smile that twitches across my lips.

“Thanks.”

Logan leans across the booth and holds out his palm. “Here, give me the valet ticket and I’ll have them pull your car up. I’ll also do a quick sweep to make sure that dickless asshole isn’t lurking somewhere outside waiting.”

My chest squeezes at the thought of him sticking around intending to hurt her, but gratitude for my boys quickly overshadows it. We may all be fuck-ups in our own ways, but there are no better friends. I’m lucky to have them in my corner, and it seems Isla is now lucky, too. I drop the ticket in Byrne’s hand with a grateful nod.

“Thanks, man.”

“I’ll settle up with the bar.” Navarro unfolds himself from the booth as Byrne does, and then it’s just me and Wright left with a sleeping Isla.

“Help me get her out?” I ask him. He nods, holding her up as I slide out. It’s an awkward dance, getting a sleeping woman out of a booth like this, but she’s so tired she barely stirs. “Can you grab her purse?”

“Of course, man.” Griff grabs her bag and then grins like the cat who caught the canary as I lift Isla, careful to pin her skirt between her legs and my arms so no one sees anything they shouldn’t. She mumbles something unintelligible before nestling her face into the crook of my neck and I freeze, so taken aback by her unconscious trust and the realization that I’m tired of being alone, that I’m unable to move.

“She looks right in your arms.” Griffin’s tone is far more serious than I’m used to hearing when it comes to women. “Don’t fuck this up.”

Blowing out a slow breath, I meet his gaze. “That seems to be all I ever do.” It’s happened often enough that I’ve stopped putting myself out there. I’ve stopped risking anything and convinced myself I’m happy alone. But am I? Right now, with a beautiful, funny woman in my arms, I can admit I haven’t been. It’s scary as hell to consider trying again, but ignoring Isla’s pull is as impossible for me as it is for the ocean to ignore the call of the moon.

He gives me a knowing look before clapping my free shoulder softly. “You’re a good man, Graves. One of the best. The only thing you screwed up before was picking the wrong women.” His attention goes to the sleeping woman in my arms. “Seems like Fate finally intervened. Lucky bastard. Don’t waste this shot.”

Shit. You know you’re in deep when Griffin Wright waxes poetic about fate.

We pick our way through the bar and, joined by Navarro, head into the night just as the valet pulls my car up. “Any sign of Ken?”

Byrne shakes his head. “Nope. I think we’re good.” He opens the passenger door. “Here, put her in front so she’s comfortable. The rest of us can cram into the back.”

“Dude, that’s going to suck,” Griff whines. “But I suppose it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

Byrne snorts. “You wouldn’t know the gentlemanly thing if it bit you in the ass.”

“Ooh, ass play. Kinky.” Wright gives him a wink, then climbs into the back seat.

“Can you behave yourself? At least until we get Isla home.” Navarro rolls his eyes. They all grunt as he shoves himself into the back with them and they bicker like children as they struggle to find the seat buckles with three massive hockey players jammed so tightly together. I can’t help chuckling as I pull Isla’s seatbelt across her body and carefully buckle her in. The click, combined with the grumbling in the back of the car, finally has her stirring. She blinks big, sleepy blue eyes at me.

“Hey. What’s happening?”

“You fell asleep,” I tell her. “We’re going to take you home now. Let me climb in, then you can give me your address, okay?”

She hums her agreement, eyes tracking me as I cross in front of the car and climb into the driver’s seat.

“Where to?”

She rattles off her address. Once I’ve typed it into my maps app, we’re on our way. “Thanks for driving me home.” The shy smile she offers me goes straight to my chest. “And for the assist earlier. I really appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell her honestly. “Anyone would have done the same in my position.”

Shadows cross her face before she murmurs, “No, not everyone.”

It’s stupid and irrational, but I want to wipe those shadows from her eyes and make her forget the jerk that put them there. And I want to kick past me’s ass for contributing to them last week. “Anyone worth your time,” I say instead.

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