Page 9 of Blindside Saint

I’m expecting fire and brimstone in return. For him to erupt. Instead, he just sighs yet again. “I’m not offering to be that. I’d rather be something else to you.”

“Yeah?” I snap, folding my arms over my chest. “What’s that?”

“If nothing else, your teammate,” he answers simply.

His voice ghosts over my skin. I’m all goosebumps, all over.Teammate.It’s a silly word in theory, right? It carries no emotion whatsoever.

But it does whenhesays it. He says it reverently. Like there’s nothing else in the world that means more.

Like he’d ride for me.

Like he’d fight for me.

Like he’d die for me.

“We aren’t a team, Beck. I work for you. Lord knows you’ve said that enough times for me to get the memo.”

He ventures closer over the center console, his hands twitching at his sides like he’s desperate to touch me. “Fuck what I’ve said in the past. None of that matters anymore. The game has changed. If you’re in danger, my baby is in danger. If you’re in danger, I’m in danger. I won’t let that happen.”

“We don’t know that I’m in danger,” I mumble.

“Youarein danger. You have to take this shit seriously.”

“I am taking it seriously!”

“No,I’mtaking it seriously. You’re hiding letters in drawers and lying to me about them.”

“I’m not—shit, fine.Fine.You want to blow money on some off-duty mall cop to waltz around the property searching for clues, be my guest. I just want to lie down.”

I unbuckle, get out of the car, and start towards the stairs that lead inside. I get about one and a half steps up before he’s beside me, pivoting me around with his hands on my hips and forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Stop, Sloan.Stop.Stop for one fucking second and listen to me. I know we aren’t together, so you don’t have to tell me that again. But I meant what I said just now: I will do anything to protect you. There’s no warehouse in this goddamn world where anyone could take you that I wouldn’t come kicking the door down. I’ll fight whoever. Pay whoever. You’remine,Sloan, whether or not you agree to that. You and this baby are mine. And I always protect what’s mine.”

Then he presses his mouth to mine.

Our bodies are touching everywhere he can manage, and it’s still not close enough. As much venomous, toxic bullshit as I’vespewed in the last few minutes, all out of this petty, twisted sense of independence, and I still know I want this kiss. I want the closeness, the intimacy—I just don’t know how to say what I want out loud.

So I do it like this.

I let Beck kiss me and I kiss him back. And I hope my body can tell him everything that my lips cannot.

When the kiss ends, he smiles. “Now, you can lie down. I’ll tuck you in.”

He holds my hands as we walk up the stairs side-by-side. When I stop at the door to my room, he tugs me away. I ask, “What are you doing?” at the same moment he asks, “Where are you going?”

“To my room.” I point at the door. “I told you that I want to lie down.”

His eyes flash as he shakes his head. “Not in there.”

“What are you talking about? This is my room.”

“Not anymore. You sleep with me now.”

“What? No! You’re really not getting the?—”

“I’m not asking. You're pregnant with my baby. You’re sleeping with me.”

“You really think that for the next nine months, you can just?—”

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