Page 28 of The Truth of Our Secrets

He gives me the details, and it sounds terrifying. “Is he okay? Who went to the hospital? Should we go?”

“Lars went with him and I called the GM, so I’m sure he called his family.” He pats my leg. “There’s no need for us to go. We’ll be in the way or add to the chaos.”

“What can I get you? Are you hungry? Do you need a drink?” I need to do something.

“I want to hold you.” He pulls me in and I tuck into his chest with my head under his chin. Embracing him, wishing I could do more.

“It was one hell of a night.” He strokes my hair, and his voice sounds steadier. A thrill goes through me, realizing my simple touch calms him. It never gets old.

“I don’t understand why Dylon was there.” He shouldn’t be near the ice yet.

Jayce gives me his best guess and then his stomach rumbles. He scrubs a hand over his face. “I should probably get some ice and something to eat.”

“I’ll get it.” I jump up. “Tell me who I gotta take down for hurting your supermanesque face.”

“My wife, the scrappy fighter,” he says as I walk into the kitchen.

“Don’t you forget it.” I laugh, plate the leftover pizza, and snag a bag of frozen peas.

He ambles into the bedroom, and I find him stretching out on the bed. His Enforcers gray sweatpants show off the muscles in his long legs. They mold to him and his dick imprint along his thigh is impressive. So hard to look away from.

I gingerly press the bag of peas under his eye. “I hope the other guy looks worse.”

“Thanks, Baby Girl.” He leans up for a kiss.

“We have pizza.” I sit on the side of the bed as he takes a bite. Then I hear his phone buzz. “I’ll get it.” I reach for it off the nightstand, ready to ignore, but it’s a text from Lars.

To avoid hovering, I hand him the phone and duck into the bathroom. When I return, he’s in boxer briefs, sporting bruises on his torso.

“Jayce, this doesn’t look like hockey injuries. What the hell happened to you? Who did this?” I want to touch the marks, but I’m afraid of causing him pain.

“You won’t like my answer.” His eyes are intense and my heart sinks.

“Alec did this to you?” I rub the safe zones on his arm and leg.

“No. Emmet.”

My head rears back and I blink rapidly. “Why?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you. It was stupid hockey stuff.” He waves his hand. “Already forgotten.” Sighing, he sets the pizza on the bed. “But he has a temper. And that’s the reason I don’t want you near him.”

“He would never hurt me,” I argue. This goes against everything I know about Emmet. He was the opposite of a hothead in high school. The bullies terrorized him.

“You can’t be sure. Have you seen him since he was here?”

My ears get hot. “He works with Alec, and Alec really likes him. We can’t avoid him.” I reason with Jayce. Avoiding Emmet indefinitely would be challenging, even if we aren’t friends.

“Why do you think he has a temper? You hardly know him. One fight isn’t a personality trait.” Something about this situation doesn’t seem right. But I won’t press the issue after what happened tonight. I check the swelling under the peas. “We can talk about it in the morning. What did Lars say?”

“Dylon should be fine,” Jayce says, finishing his pizza.

“I’m glad. Are you ready for sleep?”

“Not yet.” He rolls on top of me and strips off my pants.

“Someone’s better.” I’m not exactly in the mood, but he’s had a tough night and he’ll sleep better after sex.

Twenty minutes later, my theory proves correct. Jayce breathes heavily, sprawled out over both sides of the bed.

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