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“Entire team brawl,” Rhys says with a dimpled smile.
“Haven’t done that shit in ages,” Freddy says, his grin wider. “Haven’t seen Rhys fight since . . . maybe ever.”
Something heavy lodges in my throat, renewed with the sight of them all rushing to check on me.
My fucking team. Finally.
LaBlanc steps toward the table, eyes furious as he shoulders Rhys and Holden out of the way. Rhys’s eyes snap to him, something darker that I rarely, if ever, see from the meticulously perfect golden boy.
“What the fuck was that—”
“LaBlanc,” Harris snaps, moving his body almost as if to block me from view. “That was a dirty hit. Did you challenge?”
“Of course I didn’t.”
“I wanted a fucking challenge.”
“You’re not gonna get one for Kane. He’s the dirtiest player out there.” I shouldn’t care. I don’t, but it sucks to have him shout that out over the silent locker room. As if reminding everyone who has started to accept me as one of them, some of them willing to call me their teammate or even friend, what I truly am.
Psychopath.
“You don’t get t—”
“Tor!”
The voice is desperate, high pitched and more familiar to me than anything else.
I’d follow that sound blind, through fire, across space and time, and I’ll never forget it.
Lily.
LaBlanc spins on his heel. “What the hell are you doing in here?” he hollers. He must be frustrated; he isn’t even bothering to try with niceties and decorum. The mask is fully off.
“Where is he?” Lily’s shout is a little too loud, and I know she didn’t wear her hearing aid because the stands and crowds bother her most. “Toren?”
I open my mouth, wincing as I push up to say something, call attention to where they have me, but LaBlanc speaks first.
“Are you stupid or just so goddamn deaf you can’t hear me? Get the hell out of here, Lillian.”
My blood boils, anger rising like a tide. Holden is already moving, scowl intense and out of place on his usually happy-go-lucky face, but he’s ready to defend Lily.
“You’re not allowed in here,” her father tries again, but Lily shoves him aside.
“I’m allowed to be here,” she retorts, sounding furious as she tumbles forward in her navy sweater, gray skirt, and nylons. Her eyes meet mine, bright and concerned.
“He’s my husband.”
Chapter 61
Lily
The room is silent, though I’m almost certain everyone can hear the thundering of my heartbeat rushing in my ears.
“You have to be joking,” someone says. I don’t know who it is; my eyes are locked on Toren’s as my body and brain quickly lose whatever steam I’d built up. Now that I can see him, see he’s okay, I can feel the pressure of eyes on me. Why did I shout that?
But it’s true. Saying it makes a warmth tumble through my entire body, energy roaring. Last Friday, Toren woke me slowly, inside me already as he fucked me gently into the mattress. Pressing kisses to my cheeks, Toren talked me through an orgasm. He didn’t even come, as if my pleasure was enough.
“We’re getting married today, meri jaan,” he whispered, using the softer name he so rarely used. I remember it from childhood, just as full of love and devotion. I asked him once what it meant and he didn’t know. “Just something my mom called me,” he’d said. He didn’t talk about her, and I didn’t pry. Neither of us seemed to enjoy talking about even the concept of mothers.
