Page 110 of Beyond the Stroke

“You don’t get to show up here and act like we’re all good. We’re not. And team bonding usually works better when there’s trust.”

Connor’s lips curl into that annoying half-smile.

“That’s right. I forgot. Rory Shields is perfect. Your training, your medals, your life. Now,” he motions to Summer, “the perfect little wife.”

That’s the last straw. I want to snap back at him, to let the anger loose, but it’s not about him anymore. It’s about her. Summer doesn’t deserve to be reduced like that.

“Say whatever you want about me,” I say, low and hard. “But you don’t get to talk about her.”

Beside me, Summer inhales sharply. Whitney’s eyes go wide, but there’s a knowing smile on her face.

Connor’s smirk doesn’t falter.

“Am I not being clear? Don’t fucking talk about my wife.”

“Whatever you say, golden boy.” Connor’s voice drips with bitterness.

Connor’s older now, but it’s clear he’s still the same punk kid with an attitude. Thinking he can do whatever the hell he wants and screw everyone else.

Beside me, I feel the presence of Charlie, Eli, and Logan.

“Rory,” Eli says, eyeing me with a knowing look. “Everything good over here?”

At my friends and teammates’ arrival, Connor’s smirk turns humorless. “Must be nice having people in your corner when it counts. Not all of us have had that luxury.”

With that, Connor steps back and walks off.

I want to clap back at his declaration. Years ago, I was in his corner, but that changed due to actions of his own doing. He doesn’t like the results of his own behavior, but I don’t see him owning up to it, either.

“You okay?” Summer asks, drawing my attention to her.

I look down to find her staring up at me with a curious expression. It makes me wonder if I took the protective husband thing too far.

With Connor gone, there’s no reason to still be holding her snug against me, but I desperately want an excuse to keep her there.

Does simply loving the feel of her there suffice?

“Let’s go grab the stuff to make s’mores,” Whitney says to Summer.

“Yeah, okay.” Summer nods before shifting out of my hold to leave with Whitney.

With them gone, the guys usher me back toward our chairs on the other side of the bonfire.

“Dude,” Charlie claps me on the back as we walk, “you skipped the jealous boyfriend phase and went straight to ‘that’s my wife’ energy.”

The curious smirk from Eli has me thinking I’m already in too deep.

After s’mores are consumed, and the bonfire is put out, we make our way inside. Most of the guys and Whitney are playing video games while Winnie starts a drinking game for the remaining group—those who don’t have swim practice tomorrow.

“Hey,” Summer says, walking over with rosy cheeks and a lazy smile. She drops down onto the arm rest of the chair, her knees brushing against my thigh. “Some of the ladies are going to go out.”

Summer’s tipsy. But I have to admit, as long as she’s safe, I like seeing her let loose.

“You going to go?” I ask, knowing no matter how much I want Summer to myself, I know what she needs. To make her own choices and feel supported.

“Yeah. I think I will.”

“Okay. You have the key and the door code to get in?”

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