Page 30 of Wicked

“I’ll only accept your apology if you apologize to Ryker for being an ass.”

“Our runs—”

“I can do with him.”

“You taking me on in the ring?”

“I can put on hold. Or ask one of the guys.”

“Over my dead body.”

I grit my teeth and focus on the reason for us fighting like an old married couple. “Is a simple apology too much to ask?”

“I have some semblance of pride.”

“Be the bigger man,” I reason. “You had no right treating me or him that way. In fact, you should apologize to me in front of the guys too.”

Shephard is right. Any one of those men surrounding the ring that day would readily agree to stand by my side and protect me from the wicked that is coming for me, but being near them, talking with them, doesn’t send tingles of awareness through my body like how Ryker affects me. And yes, he and Shephard look alike, so much so they could be brothers. But there are noticeable differences.

Shephard’s body is lean muscles, while Ryker’s is all bulk. I like his bulk. Like when my small body is tucked into Ryker’s bulkiness, my butt cradled into his crotch, his chest pressing into my back as we lay in bed the night he stayed with me rather than letting me grieve the loss of my father alone.

Both men’s hair are the same rich dark chocolate. Except there’s random copper strands in Ryker’s when the sun hits his hair.

Shephard’s eyes are blue, and Ryker’s, green. Etched into the corners of Shephard’s eyes are laugh lines. I love those lines. Shephard is inked everywhere, but Ryker . . . Ryker’s skin is flawless and untouched by ink.

“Harper?”

Oh, shit, I’d cut out of the conversation.

“I’m sorry, I was distracted.”

He curses. “Ishewith you?”

“After witnessing what happened between us?” I blow out a breath and give Shephard the hard truth. “He canceled on me and the kids.”

Later that day, Shephard and I talked. No, not talked, but screamed at one another. And somewhere between bringing up a past that binds us and the present moment, I blurted out Ryker was spending time with me and the kids.

Time with the boys and girls who mean so much to me is something Shephard was never interested in. He said it was beneath him as a man to be caught roller skating or trampoline jumping. He’s an ex-cop, ex-Special Forces, for shit’s sakes. His words.

For some reason, that piece of news infuriated him. Thank goodness I didn’t tell him Ryker is only spending time with me, and by default the kids, to win a bet. Otherwise, Shephard will do worse than end the call. If only Shephard would let go of his sense of obligation to protect me at all costs. But there’s more than obligation at stake. There’s a promise too.Promises.

“I get him skipping out on you. I wouldn’t want to wear the opposing team’s jersey either.”

“It was meant to show the kids it’s okay to cheer for the underdogs.” Tomorrow night, Ryker and his teammates are playing last year’s worst-ranked team on their turf.

“His teammates would’ve given him shit if they found out. Conflict on a team this early in the game is a bad idea, love.”

“You should stop calling me that. I made my choice.”

“To spite me?”

“To move forward.”

“Without me?”

“No. Always together. You’re my friend, Shephard.”

Silence.

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