Page 44 of Divorced from Number Thirty-Eight
Fifteen
Gray
“Right,” I mutter, dropping the bags on the floor and moving close to Faye, settling my hand on the small of her back.
She doesn’t react to my touch, doesn’t lean back into it like she had just a few minutes before.
Nope.
Right now she’s trembling, her gaze having dropped to the floor, her uninjured hand clenched together so tightly it’s turning bright red.
“Time to go,” I order my teammates and Kailey and Luna and Bri, sliding my hand to the side, wrapping it around Faye’s middle.
It’s too much touching when I hardly know her, and it’s certainly giving the guys too much shit to gossip about, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
Not when Faye is shaking.
Not when she’s holding herself so fiercely it’s like she’s going to break apart with the softest breeze.
I step closer, say louder when the conversation doesn’t dim, when it, in fact, grows louder, the chaotic back-and-forth typical of my friends.
But Faye’s shy.
And she’s been through too much, not just over the last couple of days, but throughout her life.
And she needs to fucking rest.
“Time to go.”
It’s as loud as I dare, not wanting to startle Faye again, but the hooligans around me don’t hear it.
None except Kailey, that is.
Her eyes come to mine then drift down and I know she sees in Faye what I’m seeing and feeling because she moves to Smitty’s side, lifts on tiptoe and murmurs something in his ear.
He stops mid-sentence—or really, mid-shit-giving of Leo—and flicks his stare toward me and Faye.
Then he looks down at Kailey and nods.
“Time to go,” he booms.
Faye jumps and I tighten my arm around her middle, drawing her back against me.
Aiden gives me a knowing look but doesn’t comment as he snags Luna’s hand and says, “We’ll catch up with you two later.”
“But I don’t?—”
“Later, tiny tornado,” he says more firmly.
Luna hesitates. Then nods, leaving without further protest.
Aiden doesn’t comment—verbally, anyway—just flicks his gaze to the woman in my arms, his mouth hitching up, then he’s out the door, Bri following. Leo and Ryan nod at me and make short work of getting the fuck out.
Assholes.
But the good kind.
Smitty’s gaze locks with mine and he kisses the top of Kailey’s head, voice pitched to quiet. “Meet you at the car, little bird.”
