Page 85 of My Grumpy Billionaire Soccer Star

We arrive at a quiet vet’s office. As we step inside, a soft bell jingles. The air is filled with the familiar scent of antiseptic. My heart races as I approach the receptionist.

“I’m here to treat Archie. He got hurt earlier today.”

The receptionist nods and smiles kindly. “Just a moment, please.” She takes Archie from me and heads off into the back.

I look to Vaughn, who is standing beside me, concern and fatigue etched into his face. The bruises on his knuckles from thefight with Collins are beginning to darken, and it brings the pain of the day rushing back to me.

“Are you okay?” I ask quietly, looking up at his face, hoping to see no signs of pain.

“I’m fine,” he says, but I can see the strain in his expression. “Just worried about Archie.”

The receptionist comes back a moment later, carrying Archie in her arms. Relief floods through me as I reach out for him. His fur is ruffled, and he’s trembling, but he doesn’t seem hurt. I cradle him against my chest, and he burrows into me for comfort.

“I’m so sorry, buddy,” I whisper, stroking his fur gently. “I thought I lost you.”

Vaughn watches us with a faint smile, but the heaviness in his eyes is undeniable. He tries to reassure me, “He’ll be alright. You’re home now.”

We pay the vet bill and head back to Vaughn’s place, Archie curled safely in my lap. The drive is quiet, the weight of the day pressing down on both of us. Vaughn’s shoulders are tense, and I know he’s still processing everything that happened with Collins.

When we finally arrive at his mansion, I step out of the car, clutching Archie to me. I feel the familiar comfort the moment I walk through the door, but today, it feels different. There’s a sense of dread lingering underneath, the surface a reminder of everything that’s happened.

“Let me get you some water,” Vaughn says, moving toward the kitchen. My heart aches for the weight he’s carrying. I watch him, wishing I could take some of that burden off his shoulders—he’s been through so much.

As he’s otherwise occupied, I put Archie down on the couch very gently and watch him cautiously examine his surroundings. His body is tense as he smells the air, and I can see he’s shaken.I kneel beside the couch, assuring him, “You’re safe now, buddy. Nobody’s gonna hurt you again.”

I notice the small cut on Vaughn’s forehead and the bruise already forming above his eyebrow when he returns. “You’re bleeding,” I say.

He waves a hand dismissively and replies, “It’s just a scratch.” I can see past his bravado, the pain behind it, and the weariness in his features.

I take a step closer and reach out to touch his forehead very gently. “Let me clean it up,” I insist. “You can’t just ignore this.”

I see the conflict in his eyes as he watches me. “Rachel, it’s not a big deal. I’m more concerned with you and Archie.”

“I’m concerned about you right now,” I say firmly, leading him to the bathroom.

Reluctantly, he follows me, and a flicker of appreciation is visible in his eyes.

In the bathroom, I take a clean cloth, dip it in warm water, and prepare to clean his wound. My hands tremble slightly.

“Sit down,” I tell him softly, and he obliges, leaning against the sink as I dab at the cut.

He winces slightly, and guilt pinches me for being too forceful. “I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I just hate seeing you hurt.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he says, but his voice is quieter now, and the room feels tense.

As I finish cleaning the cut and place a bandage on it, I look up into his eyes, searching for any sign of how he’s really feeling.

“You’re not just dealing with a physical fight,” Vaughn says. “This whole situation with Collins . . . it’s affecting you, right?” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration and sighs. “I don’t have proof that Collins is the one planting those drugs, Rachel. I can’t just go around making accusations without solid evidence.”

I stand there, Vaughn’s hand still in mine, and feel a wave of emotion. The tension between us feels like it’s about to break,but I know we need to talk about what’s really going on. I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts and the weight of all I’ve been holding back.

“Vaughn,” I say softly, looking up into his eyes. “I need to tell you something.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity and caution in his gaze. “What is it?”

“I like you,” I confess, my heart racing as the words escape my lips. “I really like you. Maybe I even love you.” The weight lifts off my shoulders, leaving me vulnerable and exposed.

Surprise flickers across his face, and he blinks, his mind clearly turning. “Rachel, I—”

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