Page 48 of Pucking Curves

“Okay,” she says, laying her head against my chest. “We’ll tell him when you guys get back.”

I stroke my fingers through her hair, gently untangling it. For long moments, I don’t say anything. She already knows most of my secrets. She’s still here. But before we tell Micah, I need to tell her that I’m the one who started the nonprofit she works for. That I started it to make sure she had a job here and didn’t have to leave. I don’t want it to be between us, standing like a roadblock. She deserves to know.

“I need to tell you something, little bird,” I murmur.

She doesn’t say anything.

“Wren?”

I brush her hair back from her face, only to find her eyes closed.

Fuck. She’s already asleep.

I sigh, pulling the blankets up over us. I don’t wake her up, though. I’ll tell her when we get back from Detroit. Before we talk to Micah.

Chapter Twelve

Wren

IgowithArcherto the arena to see him off bright and early. The whole team is there, including Micah. He takes one look at us together, grunts, and then stomps onto the bus without a word.

I sigh, shaking my head. Why is he so stubborn? Why won’t he just talk to me like a normal person? Oh, right. Because he’s Micah. He’s annoying and bossy and overprotective…and I miss him. I really freaking miss him. We’ve never gone this long without speaking.

“It’ll be okay, baby,” Archer murmurs, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Just a couple more days, and he’ll have to accept it.”

“I know.” I just kind of wish he’d accept the possibility of me and Archer now. I don’t want our relationship to be something he accepts only because he realizes he has no choice. Maybe I’m asking too much, but I want it to be because he loves us both and wants us happy. Is that so wrong?

“On the bus, Graves!” Coach Lariat shouts at Archer.

I sigh, turning my face up to him for him to kiss me. He does, so thoroughly I forget that the whole team can see us.

They clap and whistle and catcall like the overgrown little boys they are.

Archer flips them off before Coach yells at them to get their asses on the bus before they piss him off.

I bury my face in Archer’s chest, laughing. “He’s cranky this morning.”

“Baby, Lariat is cranky every goddamn morning. It’s his permanent state of existence. Especially since he found out Nash is sleeping with his daughter.” He kisses me again before reluctantly releasing me. “I’ll be home on Sunday.”

“Okay. I love you.”

His expression softens. “I love you too.”

He turns and jogs toward the bus, only to stop at the door and look back at me. I lift my hand in a little wave. It’s ridiculous, but I already miss him. Away games suck. This is the third one since Vegas, and they suck a little more every time.

I lean against his car, waiting for everyone to file onto the bus. But instead of Joaquin climbing on, he steps aside, allowing Micah to jump off.

“Rushing, where the fuck are you going?” Coach growls.

I don’t hear Micah’s response, but he stalks in my direction. My heart stops beating for a minute before it starts again.

My brother stops in front of me, hands shoved into his pockets. “Hey,” he mutters.

“Hi,” I whisper back, wringing my hands together. “Um…”

“Fuck.” He yanks his hands out of his pockets, reaching for me.

I choke on a sob as his arms close around me, hauling me up against his chest for a hug. “I miss you so much,” I cry. “I hate fighting with you.”

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