Page 4 of Power Move
“Send me the bill. Or I can take it somewhere to have it cleaned for you. Or tell me where you got it and I’ll get you a new one.” My stomach clutches into a ball of dread and worry. I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s a one of a kind, or an heirloom.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Sage,” he repeats, his voice gentle. He lays his other hand on my shoulder. “Look at me.”
“Yeah?” Sucking in a breath, I look up from the ruined sweater.
No signs of agitation mar his face. No anger or disappointment. He’s calm. His expression is as it was before I doused him in Guinness. He dips his head and holds my gaze, the warmth of his palm seeping through my shirt. “Everything’s okay.”
I flex my fingers in the towel. His hand stays around my wrist like a soft cuff, anchoring me. I can’t believe I’m standing here, in full view of his teammates, mine, and the rest of the patrons, dabbing at his shirt,while he’s wearing it, like I’m some kind of… I don’t know what. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
The pad of his thumb strokes the side of my wrist. Up and down, tiny movements, over and over. “I’m not. Maybe it’s the best thing to happen to the sweater.”
A chuckle surprises its way out of me. We both smile at each other. “Really? Why?”
“Every time I wear it, the guys ask me what time we’re going fishing, or where I’ve docked my boat. Or they call me Cap’n. Quinn was whistling sea shanties at me before you got here tonight.”
Laughing, my shoulders inch down and my fingers loosen their death grip on the towel. “I think it looks good on you.”
“In that case, I’ll have to see if I can save it.” He’s smiling again and that twinkle in his eyes is back.
“If you get soap and cold water on it right now?—”
“I’ll take care of it.” He releases his hold on my wrist and brushes the knuckle of his index finger over my lips, its heat as soft as a whisper and gone in a flash. “No worries, okay?”
If only it were that easy. Ialwayshave worries. It’s exhausting.
But he doesn’t need to know that. So I nod, leave the bar towel on his shoulder, and take a step back. The hand he’d had on my shoulder slips away. My stomach aches like something kicked it. “I owe you another drink.”
I turn back to the bar and signal for the bartender. And see the long metal legs of the red barstool I tripped over. I’m sure my face is the same shade.
Rhys stays beside me while I order the drinks, leaning his forearm on the bar like everything’s fine. If I weren’t the cause of a disaster, I could relax too.
The scent of Guinness wafts from him like he showered in it. I can’t look at him without picturing the mess beneath the towel. “Maybe you should go put some soap on that.”
“I will.” His hand grazes the center of my back. “I just want to make sure you’re okay first.”
That he’s more concerned about me than anything else is a balm. But him witnessing my anxiety on full display shrivels something in my chest. I need a minute to myself. “I’d feel better if I wasn’t imagining that stain setting in.”
Huffing a laugh, he clasps my shoulder. “Okay. I’ll go take care of it. You get the drinks, then we’ll watch Morgan and Quinn battle it out at pool?”
“Deal.”
He squeezes me once before walking toward the restrooms.
Elbows on the bar, head in my hands, I blow out a breath. I wanted to make a good impression, and instead, two of my worries from earlier have come to life.What’s the worst that can happen?Those worries combining in one massive mess.
Way to go me.
CHAPTER 2
RHYS
The clang of weights,grunts and groans, encouragement and conversations echo around me. Different voices, accents, and names from what I’m used to hearing bounce around the weight room at the Slash’s practice facility, but the vibe is the same.
I set the barbell down and take a swig of water from my bottle. Spread out around the large room, guys do their own routines, depending on their individual programs. Mine includes incorporating some of the physical therapy exercises I learned in rehab. My team’s trainer suggested I keep doing them so my shoulder stays strong.
Since it’s my first day, the guys let me choose the music blasting through the speakers. It’s tough being the new guy, and I’m not even that, just a temporary guest. Even so, I appreciate the gesture.
