Page 15 of Pucking Obsessed

I gently close my hand around the shell. “I will as well. I’ll keep this angel safe. I love it.”

Unexpectedly, I hear footfalls from the path that leads down the side of the beach house.

The side that runs to the front of the house…

No one is meant to know that we’re here at the beach house for our own safety.

They definitely shouldn’t be able to get through security.

Panicked, I sit up. “Shit, someone’s coming. Who the fuck are they? How did they…?”

Instantly, Eden launches himself to his feet like he could fight off any attacker, despite his arm being in a sling.

He still manages to look dangerous as he stands protectively in front of me.

I place the shell onto the couch and grasp a cushion, hugging it in front of me like it’s part barrier and part weapon.

Is it a stalker?Obsessed fan?

One of the many,manyhaters who send daily death threats online to the team?

D’Angelo stands in front of us all, before ripping off his suit jacket and hurling it at Shay.

D’Angelo may enjoy Shay and me being naked but he’s possessive enough to hate having anyone else see us in that state.

Shay swings the jacket over his shoulders to partially cover himself. D’Angelo is taller than him. So, the jacket hangs low enough to at least cover Shay’s cock.

Shay hugs the jacket closed around himself, standing at D’Angelo’s shoulder.

D’Angelo looks around for a weapon, but unless he wants to try the rose route again, I can’t see what he can grab.

In desperation, D’Angelo snatches up the half empty whiskey glass, weighing it in his hand.

Then a handsome, older man marches down the path toward us. He has silver hair. He’s tall with a neat beard and twinkling, emerald eyes.

He’s dressed in a sharp charcoal suit with a green shirt and tie.

“Dad,” I squeak.

My cheeks stain with pink.

“Coach,” D’Angelo drawls, at the same time as stepping to shield Shay as much as he can, “to what do we owe thisunexpectedpleasure?”

“Cut the bullshit, D’Angelo,” Dad barks. His condemning gaze sweeps across the porch, taking in the fact that two of us are close to naked, the spilled wine and smashed chocolates, as well as the whiskey in D’Angelo’s hand. To be fair, it does look like he’s interrupting an orgy. Well, he is probably only about a quarter of an hour early for that. “I’m only here because none of you were answering your phones or messages. Are you drunk again?”

D'Angelo’s brows furrow in confusion, before he notices the whiskey glass. “Sadly, not. And we’re not answering because we made a pact to leave our phones off for at least a couple of hours every day. Robyn isn’t answerable to you twenty-four seven.”

I’m proud of how he’s standing up for me.

D’Angelo is pale. His hand is shaking.

He doesn’t normally backtalk coaches. You can’t as the captain. Plus, he has a traumatic past with parental and authority figures.

So, I know how much this must be triggering him right now.

Yet he’s learning to stand his ground against Dad, no matter how much of a hard-ass Dad is.

“Actually, as PR Director, she is.” Dad’s steely gaze meets mine.

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