Page 6 of Best Kept Secret
“It’s okay,” Millie whispers, stepping around me.
“Mils,”Parkersays softly, cocking his head to the side and looking at her like she hung the fucking moon.
My hands ball into fists at my sides.
“What do you want, Parker?” Millie asks, folding her arms across her chest defiantly.
“Iwantto talk to you,” he croaks, his gaze flitting to me and back to her as he continues. “I’m sorry, Angel. You know it meant nothing.Shemeant nothing. I was drunk. It was a stupid mistake, and I’m… I’m sorry.”
Millie shakes her head, but before she can say anything, Parker persists, stepping closer to her. “I told you, you’re my only girl. We’re meant to be. It will never happen again. Youhaveto believe me.”
“Like I believed you the first time?” Millie scoffs, and when her gaze flits to me, I nod, flashing her a reassuring smile.Atta girl.
Parker’s cheeks turn even redder, his face morphing from semi-remorseful to straight-up pissed. Clearly, he doesn’t like being called out. “Millie, you can’t keep holding my past against me,” he says with obvious condescension.
“Yourpast?” Millie snorts a laugh. “Parker, it was three weeks ago.”
Parker’s jaw ticks as his gaze once again meets mine. And that’s when it happens. He grabs Millie’s arm with enough force that she flinches, pulling her off to the side, crowding her in a way that makes her instinctively cower. And when she whispers that he’s hurting her, well, that’s when I step in.
I didn’t come back here with Millie just to fight. I’d intended on coming inside with her, telling the guy to fuck off, and maybe wait around for a while to make sure he didn’t return. But this guy deserves an ass kicking, and unlucky for him, kicking ass is my specialty.
“Millie, I told you, I?—”
Grabbing Parker by his popped collar, I yank him away from Millie with such force, he stumbles. I shove him hard against the wall, pinning him with my hand around his throat. “That’s enough talking for tonight, big guy.”
“Get your hands off me,” he grits out.
“Nah, I’m not gonna do that.” I shake my head, tightening my grip around his throat. “But I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll give you a choice. Leave now, or I punch your fucking teeth down your throat.” Arching a brow, I offer him the kind of smile that completely contradicts my ultimatum.
Suddenly, there’s a commotion behind me, and without warning, I’m being punched in the jaw with a sloppy right hook that comes out of nowhere and manages to knock me sideways.
I turn to see Parker’s cronies crowding me. One of them nurses his right hand—the culprit, obviously—and the other one looks from me, to his buddy, to Parker, and back to me, nervously lifting his fists in the air. It’s almost laughable; three drunk college dickheads who clearly have no idea how to throw a proper punch, up against me, a professional hockey player who willingly chooses violence almost every time he skates out onto the ice. I should walk away. But when I wipe my chin with the back of my hand and see a smear of blood from my stinging lip, I can’t help but grin because that’s all the encouragement I need. Game on. I hope they have dental insurance.
CHAPTER 3
MILLIE
“I’ve never had anyone fight for me before,” I say under my breath as I dip a cotton pad into the bowl of warm salty water on my nightstand. I squeeze the excess and look back up at Logan, taking in the bloodied split in his bottom lip and the bruising that’s starting to show around his left eye.
“I find that hard to believe,” he rasps, his voice low and throaty.
God, he’s hot. Of course, it doesn’t help that he’s currently sitting on my bed, less than a few inches away from me, wearing only his suit pants. I sprayed his blood-spattered button down with stain remover and, after a quick wash, it’s in the dryer. So, he’s shirtless. And a living, breathing work of art, it seems.
I sniff a nervous laugh but say nothing as I focus only on the cut in his lip and not on his broad shoulders, or his strong chest, or anything else further south, for that matter.
“Has he ever hurt you before?”
Taken aback by Logan’s question, I blink at him as I consider my response. The longer I take, however, the deeper the crease between his eyebrows burrows.
“Millie?”
“No.” I quickly shake my head, but when he arches a brow as if he doesn’t believe me for one second, I release a sigh. “I mean… yeah, he’s grabbed me before. Pushed me against the wall like he did tonight. But he never hit me or anything like that. He liked to use his words more than his hands.”
Staring at me, Logan’s jaw ticks. His eyes, which I realize now, in the low light of the lamp shining from my dresser, are a light hazel with flecks of silver and blue, turn darker, stormy almost. “You know it’s not okay for anyone to treat you like that, yeah?”
“I know.” I look down.
I reach for his right hand, inspecting his grazed knuckles, but just as I’m about to clean them, Logan flips his hand in mine so we’re palm-to-palm, threading our fingers together, in a move so unexpectedly tender, so startling, I suck in a tremulous gasp.
