Page 16 of Not a Perfect Save

Jake barks out a laugh and looks over my head at Logan. “She’s got him pegged already.”

Connor scowls but doesn’t have time to protest. Instead, he gives his friends what I think is meant to be a warning look before leaving me with them.

We chat. Logan and Jake share anecdotes that have me in stitches in moments. They rate their chances for this year’s season (high), Jake’s date from the night before (low), and Dan’s latest publicity idea (just wrong).

I continue to grin even though I’m losing steam. Logan must notice because he interrupts one of Jake’s stories to ask, “You okay?”

My head is killing me, and I may keel over. “I’m fine. All in one piece.” I motion at myself with my non-crutch-wielding hand, then point at the platform from earlier. “You heard what they said up there. All thanks to Connor.” I don’t know how much Jake and Logan know about what really happened last night, even if they are his closest friends.

“Connor’s one of the good guys, for sure,” Jake says. “You couldn’t have been in better hands. There’s no way he’d have let anyone get hurt. Hell, he’d single-handedly save the world if he could. He’s never met a wounded bird he doesn’t like.”

My eyes widen, and I have to fight to keep the scowl off my face.

Logan cuts in, “Don’t get us wrong, Connor can be just as much of an idiot as the rest of us—and that’s saying something. But you’re better off with him than, say, someone like Jakey here.” Logan’s eyes gleam as he gives his friend a side-eye.

“Fuck off. You’d be way better off with me,” Jake says to me, flexing a big bicep and making me laugh.

“Just saying you couldn’t have had anyone better to look after you,” Logan tells me.

“I don’t need looking after.” Why does everyone think I’m incapable?

I’m grateful when they move on to another topic, but their words niggle at me. I should never have agreed to this farce.

Even if it meant that Connor couldn’t play?I huff. Since when do I care if he can toss a ball around and cross some chalk lines?

Before I can war with myself further, Jake shrugs. “Tell that to him.” He tips his chin to the side—Connor’s eyes are hot on me.

Chapter Ten

CONNOR

Every timeI form an impression of Ella in my head, it shatters and reassembles with yet more facets: This morning, when she faced off against Dan and Jessica with barely a flinch. Then, less than an hour later, she was dressed in a frothy looking dress looking like a woodland sprite, making all sorts of wolfish thoughts flicker in my brain. And now with this most recent revelation, that she’s not a little urchin but the privileged child of wealthy parents, is the most shocking of all.

My eyes flicker back to Ella over and again. Dan’s lips pinch every time my attention veers away from the anxious sponsors he’s invited, all eager to make sure I’d done no permanent damage to myself (and their brands). Thank fuck, no posturing is needed, my ankle doesn’t hurt at all.

Luckily, the meet-and-greets don’t drag on too long and I’m able to hurry back to Ella. Who knows what Logan and Jake have filled her head with? Knowing them, I’m sure nothing good. Jake says something, and Ella turns to watch me, her features pinched. Jake’s expression is serene, even as I level him a glare. My speed increases.

The closer I get, the more distinctly I see the lines of stress on either side of her lips, even though she strains to keep a smile on her face. Guilt swamps me. She’s got a concussion, and we’ve dragged her to this fucking carnival.

I wrap an arm around Ella’s waist as soon as I reach her. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

I barely manage to growl a goodbye to the guys before steering her outside, somewhat shocked when she comes so easily. Probably doesn’t want to tackle her parents or go another round with the press.

An SUV pulls up in front of us, and she stiffens. “What’s this?”

I raise an eyebrow. “A car.”

“What for?”

I tilt my head to the side. “Transportation. To go home.” I say slowly.

An irritated look is all I get for my troubles. “I’m not going home with you.”

A twinge of hurt catches me by surprise, but I keep my voice light. “Who said anything about my home? I’m bringing you to your place. I’m yourfriend, remember. All set to take care of you, just like I told your family.”

The line between her brows deepens into a ravine at my words, and her jaw tightens. “That was just for show.” She waves me off with a pooh-poohing maneuver.

“No, it wasn’t. Let’s go.” I steel myself for further argument just as thunder rumbles above us.

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