Page 89 of Beyond the Stroke

Edgar is disturbed. He’s never seen me like this. There’s no space in the van and the proximity to other people at the RV park wasn’t ideal for private concerts.

As the song hits the guitar solo, I turn the whisk into a guitar, giving it everything I have. I’m bouncing on my toes, playing my air guitar.

I’m mid-spin when I spot the audience: a wall of broad shoulders and horrified expressions.

My instinct is to shriek and dive behind the couch. While I’m cheek to the carpet, I notice Edgar lying on the rug nearby doing absolutely nothing to help me during this home invasion.

Rory was right. Edgar’s guarding instincts are non-existent.

“Summer, it’s just us,” comes a deep, but soothing voice from the doorway. “We didn’t mean to scare you.”

Slowly, I peek my head over the couch to get a better look. I recognize Eli, Logan, and Charlie but there are a few others hovering behind them. A moment later, the group parts and Rory appears.

At the sight of him, I rise from my flattened position. Still holding the whisk, my face burning.

He’s freshly showered, hair still damp with a dusting of scruff on his jaw. His eyes sweep the room and land on me.

“Well, this is the end of my sanity.”

twenty-three

. . .

RORY

I walk over and grab the blanket off the back of the couch to cover Summer.

“It’s just underwear.” I can tell she’s trying to shrug it off, but secretly she wants to melt into the floor.

“You’re kind of…on display.” I motion to her chest without dropping my eyes there.

Her eyes widen, and she pulls the blanket tighter around her.

“Oh my god, did they see?”

I want to reassure her, but there’s no doubt that they did. It was the first thing my eyes had connected with when I walked in the door. Those tight nipples pressed against the soft cotton of her tank top.

I wonder if there’s a medical spa service for extracting the image of my wife’s nipples from these guys’ brains. I’d spare no expense for that procedure.

“Possibly.”

If it were me walking in alone, I’d chuckle, but there’s nothing funny about my teammates seeing my wife half naked.

“We didn’t see anything,” Charlie says, covering his eyes.

“That’s a lie.” Logan claps. “Encore!”

I glare at him and his clapping dies mid-beat.

After a tough practice, I’d been slow to shower and the guys had gotten to my house before me. I’d texted Summer, but it’s clear she didn’t get the message.

“What? I like to dance around in my underwear, too.” Logan motions to Eli. “Eli’s seen me before.”

Eli shakes his head. “Unfortunately, yeah.”

Logan keeps talking. It’s what he does in these situations. “Most people don’t realize air guitar is all in the wrist, but man, you nailed it.”

Eli holds up the bags in his hands. “We brought dinner. It’s a Tuesday night tradition.”

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