Page 197 of Scoring the Player
“Ain’t no more pounds of flesh here.” I step closer. “I love him. Get in our way, and I’ll go through you.”
“Treat him better,” Cillian warns.
“I plan to.” I turn and walk away. “Sid.” I grab a towel. “Watch the door. No one gets in.”
The steam from the shower billows from the last stall on the right. I bend down and unlace my shoes, toe them off, then peel off my jersey.
Salem’s back is to me as I approach. “Can I come in?” I ask.
He pauses scrubbing himself.
“Please,” I add.
His shoulders lift with a small shrug.
Stepping in, I battle a moment of self-doubt before resting my forehead against his back.
He stiffens but doesn’t shrug me off.
We trade quiet breaths, soaking in the hot water and thick steam. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I sink into the slow softening of his muscles. The wisp of hope that’s starting to grow is snuffed out when he shifts and peels himself away. I’m backing off to give him space when he turns, cups the side of my face, and tilts my head down.
I wince as his fingers graze over the lump where I was punched.
“I’m gonna make him pay,” he growls.
He spreads my curls to get a closer look.
“Think Easton did enough damage.”
“When you leave here”—he raises my chin—“get this checked.”
“It’s just a bump,” I tell him.
“I want it checked.”
I nod against his palm.
The lines on his forehead disappear as beads of water travel down his nose ring and pool at his top lip.
I reach for his waist. “I miss you.” My voice cracks under the weight of the ache.
He drops his hands, and the lines reappear, etching his forehead.
“Blue…”
He steps back as I close the distance between us until his back hits the tiles.
Trickles of water sweep across his lashes and cheekbones as he watches me.
The tips of my fingers graze over his stomach, and the skin pebbles under my touch.
“You should leave,” he rasps, his Adam’s apple rippling from a swallow.
“Okay.” I press closer, leaning against his chest, where I can feel his heart beating almost as quickly as mine, and brush a kiss against his lips. “But then I’d still miss you.”
I kiss him again, my tongue curling under his top lip.
He shudders against me.
