Page 58 of Filthy Player

“I’m not your ex, Paige, and someday you’ll start believing it. I have no desire to walk away from you.”

It was uncanny how much he understood me. He knew my fears, my uncertainties before I did. I shoved my face into the crook of his neck and shoulder to hide my emotions.

His hand slid up and down my back, soothing me. How did I get so damn lucky?

“Ready for bed?” he asked.

I shook my head against his shoulder. “I need to brush my teeth. It’s in my purse downstairs.”

He pushed me away from him and pointed to his dresser where my purse was sitting. “I brought your purse up when I saw your phone next to it. Have at it and hurry back.”

I did what I was told and by the time I returned, Beaux had fixed the covers and pillows we’d destroyed earlier and was already in bed.

We snuggled up together, spoke quietly as he flicked through a few news channels, and I was out, completely out, within moments, with Beaux’s arm around me, my thigh draped over his, and feeling more rested and relaxed than I had in years.

The man was a superhero.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

PAIGE

I’d had almost two weeks of bliss. I went to the garage in the morning, helped the mechanics on jobs so they could focus on the ’64 Camaro. We were searching for parts so in between oil changes and fluid re-fillings and car cleanings, I was spending most of the time searching vendors and vintage junkyards for all original pieces.

So far, it was slow going, but we were committed.

After the workday was done, I was able to go home and spend the rest of the evening with my dad. I spent a handful of nights with Beaux, but the others I stayed at home with my dad and his nurse, Melanie.

With my dad recovering nicely, his pain lessening by the day, he was awake for longer periods. After he went to bed at night, I was finally able to relax for the first time since moving home.

I needed it. Twice I fell asleep on the couch at nine o’clock and didn’t wake up until six when my alarm went off. Once, I’d poured a glass of wine and fell asleep before I ever took a sip. I hadn’t realized how run down I’d become until I was given the time to do nothing.

I poured my appreciation into my time with Beaux. We did dinner on Wednesday. I went over there later on Thursday after dad was in bed, and Friday and Saturday we didn’t see each other.

Now, Melanie and I were helping my dad into his wheelchair and guiding him to the suite Kolby had provided, all with the assistance of two security guards courtesy of Beaux.

My mouth had dropped when we’d parked in the underground parking garage connected to the stadium and John and Ryan had introduced themselves to us. They’d said Beaux had requested them to escort us for the day, courtesy of stadium security.

That wasn’t my first clue being with Beaux was life-changing in more than one way, but it was one of the most jolting.

Being with Beaux required security?

We were taken to a private elevator to the floor of our suite and then another life-changing realization hit me as we stepped into the suite.

It was a suite the size of Rhode Island.

My breath stalled as soon as we entered. The stadium had recently undergone massive renovations and the suites had definitely been included.

We’d arrived early to ensure plenty of time to get my dad settled and Kolby’s mom, Charlayne, and his daughter, Mya were nowhere in sight.

“Holy cannoli,” Melanie whispered, her eyes wide open and awed as we entered.

“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Dad exclaimed. “My kind of way to watch the game.”

I was more than impressed. I was floored. Black leather chairs. Three tall bar-height tables. There was a small kitchen area where a waiter, someone at our beck and call for drinks and food, stood waiting dressed in all black with a white towel tossed over his shoulder.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “Name’s Shane. Anything you need today, let me know.”

“I need a good slap to the face of reality,” Melanie said.

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