Page 72 of The Assist
I shoot him a quick text.
Dylan: Don’t start.
Murphy: Already did, sweetheart.
Murphy: You kissed her like it was a movie finale. You gonna tell me or do I have to beat it out of you?
Dylan: Meet me at the pubtonight.
Murphy: You buying?
Dylan: You’re lucky I don’t make you pay for therapy after what you saw.
Murphy: You wish you looked that good from behind.
I smirk and pocket the phone. I should be annoyed, but Murphy’s the only person who could drag this out of me without making it worse.
Mia appears by my side, freshly showered and dressed in gym leggings and a cropped sweatshirt. Her stomach is clearly visible and there’s an urge to within me to run my tongue along the bare skin. Instead, I reach for her and pull her into my lap. She’s a willing victim. Mia fits perfectly on my thigh and I tuck her into my side as I kiss the side of her forehead. I don’t miss the contented exhale as she wraps her arms around my neck.
“I need to talk to Murphy,” she says quietly. “I can’t risk him spilling to Jonno or worse, management.” Her eyes lift to meet mine with an uncertainty that I feel deep in my gut.
There’s nothing I want more than to assure her he wouldn’t do that but we both know Murphy can’t hold his own water. Never mind keeping a secret. My arms tighten around her waist as I shuffle back on the sofa, holding her against me. “Leave it with me. I’ve just messaged him. I’m meeting him at the pub later, I’ll make sure he understands what’s at stake.”
God knows if I can make him see sense but I’m sure as hell gonna try. I feel her relax a little in my arms and that ramps up the pressure I already feel. This is on me now. I have to keep her safe.
The pub’squieter than usual when I walk in just after six. Murphy’s already at the booth, two pints deep and grinning like a shark.
“Evening, Casanova.” Murphy raises his glass and takes a good long drink of his beer.
“Piss off,” I mutter, sliding into the seat opposite.
He raises a brow. “So, how long’s this been going on?”
I shrug. “It’s not like that.”
Murphy laughs. “Mate, I watched you tonguing her in acarpark. It’sexactlylike that.”
I stare down at my pint, watching the bubbles rise. “It’s complicated.”
“Because of the job?” he asks, more serious now.
I nod. “She’s worried. There’s some policy about not dating players. If this gets out, she could lose everything.”
Murphy exhales. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
There’s a moment of quiet between us, then he leans forward. “You in over your head?”
I meet his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Murphy studies me. “Look, I’ll give you this, she’s good for you. Calms you down. You’re less of a prick lately, and your game is unreal. Nobody is getting near you on the ice at the minute.”
I huff out a laugh. “Cheers, mate.”
“But,” he adds, “if you hurt her, if you treat this like all the others, I’ll knock your teeth in. She’s not a game, Dylan.” I knew Mia was popular with the players, but I wasn’t prepared for that from Murphy.
“Iknow, Murph.” I say, sharper than I mean to. Because he’s right. She’s not a game to me. She’s the first thing that’s felt real in a long time.
