Page 63 of Keeping Score

My sweaty boyfriend was trying to suffocate me.

Forcibly stuffed into the crook of his neck, I tried to push Brody off to no avail. It was hard to escape when your boyfriend had more than a few inches and about a hundred pounds on you.

“Get off,” I shoved his arm, even though the scent of him post-game wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d have him believe.

“Not until I get a kiss.” He puckered his lips at me threateningly.

“I can’t kiss you when you’re covered in sweat,” I protested, pushing his face away, even though I knew and he knew that I always relented.

Sometimes I just wanted him to work a little for it.

“You guys are adorable,” Cassie cooed, standing beside us in the family lounge. “The most beautiful couple I’ve ever seen.”

“Are you tearing up?” I squinted at her, knowing her well enough to notice the telltale sign.

While I was distracted examining Cassie’s tear ducts, Brody took the plunge forward to plant a kiss on my lips. I shot him a look when I saw the smug satisfaction written on his face.

“No,” Cassie lied, dabbing at her eyes.

“Yes, you are.” I frowned. “You’re being weird again, Cass. What’s going on?”

Brody stiffened, and I turned to look at him in question when I saw he was silently shaking his head at Cassie.

Also weird.

Why was everyone being so weird?

“Is there something I should know about?” I crossed my arms across my chest.

“I was just about to ask the same question,” Liam’s voice sounded behind us.

“Mommy’s crying,” Lily offered up.

“I can see that,” Liam answered, moving over to her side instantly. “What happened?”

In one fell swoop, he scooped Lily up in one arm and draped his other around Cassie’s shoulders in a protective gesture, shooting me a scathing look as if I might be the one responsible for making his notoriously emotional wife cry.

And to be fair, I guess I was, though I still couldn’t figure out why.

Brody clocked the look at once and tightened his own hold on me—a show of solidarity that I was enormously grateful for.

I knew I could fight my own battles—especially with my brother—but knowing Brody was right there beside me gave me the courage to do anything.

“Liam, I was hoping we could talk—”

“Can’t.” Liam said shortly, eyes apathetic and distant.

It made me want to scream.

“I really think we should.”

“Not now, Maggie.”

How was it possible that I was a thirty-year-old woman, that I was a lawyer who literally excelled at verbal debates, and yet I couldn’t form a single sentence under the weight of his detachment?

“Please,” I felt myself tremble.

“Liam,” Cassie looked up at him, frowning.