Page 42 of Wicked Devotions: Part 2

“You don’t have to apologize for breaking anything, or for anything else.” I use my other hand to tilt her head back until she’s looking up into my eyes. “You’re safe here, no matter what.”

She nods and then looks down at the blood in the sink. “What is it about this sink and my bodily fluids?”

The joke works as intended to ease the tension of the moment just as Declan’s footsteps pound down the stairs and he jogs into the kitchen. He drops the kit on the counter and looks down over her shoulder at the wound.

“Do you want to hold my hand while he cleans the cut?” he asks her.

She quirks her lips in a tiny smile and looks at me briefly before putting her other hand in his. He steps behind her pressing his front against her back and wraps his other arm around her waist holding her close. Between the two of us, we dwarf her. I get the shard of glass out of her hand and then clean her up. The main cut isn’t deep enough to need stitches oranything, so I grab some gauze and wrap a bit of tape around her hand to secure it since a bandaid won’t work on a palm like that.

“All better?”

“Yes.” She rises on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my lips. “Thank you.”

I putthe entirety of my focus on the black and white ball I’m dribbling between my feet as I work my way through a set of cones. Coach follows along beside me, a stopwatch in his hand as the sounds of my teammates fade into the background. Running these timed drills has always been my favorite part of practice. I love these fleeting moments where it’s just the ball and me and my skills. Where the only person I’m going up against is myself.

“Forty-seven flat,” Coach calls out my time as I jog off to the side to grab a drink of water. The tournament is coming up, meaning it’ll be my last few games of my college career. It’s bittersweet to think about since soccer has been such a huge part of my life for years. Right after the final game, which we’ll hopefully be playing in, we’ll leave for Greece.

I watch as Declan goes through the same drill I just did. He’s just as good as me, maybe even a bit better. Not that he’d ever acknowledge it. That’s the best thing about not only being his teammate but his best friend, knowing how humble he actually is underneath his brash and broody exterior.

“Forty-six two,” Coach yells.

“Beat me by eight tenths,” I say as I toss him a bottle. “Way to go.”

“You were distracted.”

“I wasn’t actually.” I take another drink. “Why do you say that?”

“Your eyes weren’t locked in the way they usually are.”

“It’s just practice.”

“And?”

I don’t think my mind was wandering too much, but I do have a few exams to study for tonight. That could definitely distract me. Or knowing that I need to pack.

“Are you ready for Greece?” I ask.

“Yes. Getting Harper out of here and disappearing for a few days on a yacht is going to be amazing.”

“Has Cy said anything to you about what he has to do for his uncle?”

Declan’s expression clouds over. “No. Every time I bring it up, he gets upset.”

“Or deflects.”

“Exactly. I do know that whatever day he has to go won’t involve Harper at all. He’s very sure he’ll be able to keep us all safe.”

“I’m less inclined to worry about us and more worried about her.”

“Same.”

“Run eight laps and then you’re done for the day,” Coach yells from across the field.

I fall in step beside Declan as we pace ourselves together and wait for the rest of the guys to fall in with us. Cy and Harper have kept up with running together nearly every day. I can’t stop myself from wondering if they chat while they run or if they’re quiet. Probably a combination of the two.

At one point she wanted to run on her own or to use headphones, but those are two things she just doesn’t have the option to do yet. I wish she did, because I know running helps her clear her mind. It’s important to have that. Hopefully soon we’ll be safe to just live without random people talking about social media videos and stalkers at some point.

“I have to stop by the library before I go home today,” Declan says as we finish the final lap. “I’ll probably be home later. Don’t hold dinner if you get hungry. I can heat up leftovers.”

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