Page 22 of Protecting the Boundary
By the time the clock runs down to the end of the game, my arms are exhausted from holding Kay, who clung to me like her life depended on it whenever I tried to put her down after her dad got injured. We go to the area of the stadium Romel told me to take her after the game where the players exit.
By the time Romel comes out with three other guys, Kay is half asleep in my arms. She wakes up as soon as she hears her dad’s voice.
“Daddy!” she shouts, squirming out of my arms and running straight for him.
He scoops her up in his good arm and gives her a kiss to the side of her head. The three other guys, who I now recognize as Gabe Romero, Dominic Smith, and Tyler Russell of the Fierce Four, all coo over her. Despite the stress of worrying about Kay’s emotional state for most of the game, a smile breaks out on my face to see these four giant guys turn to mush for this little girl.
“You okay, Daddy?” Kay asks, her tiny brows furrowed as she touches his shoulder gently.
He glances at me before he answers her. “I’m okay, baby girl. Just fell on it wrong, but it’ll be fine after a little ice.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
I’m about to speak up when Romel says, “You know what would really make me feel better?”
“What?” she asks.
“Ice cream,” he says with a big smile, and her face splits into a huge grin.
I let out a sigh of relief. Of course, he’d pick up on how worried she really is and be able to defuse it almost immediately.
Sometimes a girl just needs her dad.
He walks closer to me, still talking to Kay. “You still had a good time, though?”
She nods her head and her smile grows. “Miss Mere got us so much food,” she says, giggling.
“Oh, did she now?” Romel asks, his own smile growing as he directs it my way, and I have to remind myself to breathe because this man is handsome on a regular day, but when he smiles, he’s like “Sexiest Man Alive” levels of handsome.
“My dad used to always treat us to all the sports park goodies when he’d bring me to games, so I thought I’d carry on the tradition with Kaylee,” I explain.
He nods and then mouths a “thank you” before walking past me with Kaylee in his arms and letting her tell him about all the food we ate. I watch them for a second too long when I realize the other three guys are watchingme.
Waving awkwardly, I dash off to follow Romel and Kay, but not before I hear one of the guys say, “That’shis new nanny?” Then they all laugh and another voice says something, but by that time I’m too far away to hear the distinct words.
Romel drives us all home, and it’s no surprise to either of us when Kaylee is already passed out by the time we get there.
He carries her inside and I follow them in, but when Romel heads upstairs to put her in bed, I head to the kitchen and check the freezer. It takes me a minute to find what I’m looking for, but I shouldn’t be surprised to find ice packs in an athlete’s freezer. I doubt this is the first time he’s ever been injured, even if it’s only minor.
Next, I head to the cupboard where Romel keeps ibuprofen on the top shelf and grab a couple. I’m filling a tall glass of water when he comes into the kitchen and stops in his tracks when he sees the ice pack and medication on the counter.
He glances at me. “What’s this?”
“You’ve been favoring your right arm, which made me think your left is still bothering you from when you landed on it wrong. I figured a little ice and ibuprofen might help.”
“I was just coming in here to grab exactly that.” He says his words slowly like he doesn’t know how to handle someone else taking care of him.
I know it’s not my job, but it is my job to take care of his daughter, and I know how much she worries about him, so in a weird roundabout way, taking care of him feels like taking care of her. I place the full glass of water next to the pills and then step back.
“Well, I guess I’ll head to bed,” I say, gesturing with my thumb in the direction of the back doors.
He’s still staring at the ice pack and meds. “Sure, good night,” he says absentmindedly.
“Good night.” I don’t linger.
I’m halfway across the patio and beating myself up for making things awkward again when the back door opens and I spin around. Romel stands there, illuminated by the dim lawnlights he has set up along the edge of the walkway to the guesthouse.
“Thank you,” he says, his voice carrying across the yard.
