Page 42 of Faking it with the Billionaire
She clears her throat and saunters off down the hallway like she didn’t just get caught sucking face with a member of the hockey team.
“She’s married!” I shout, as if that’s the worst of it, because it’s not. But I can’t bring myself to say the words aloud. They’re not even mine to bear.
Since when did Noah start sucking faces with married women? He met her husband; it’s not as though he wasn’t aware she wasn’t on the market.
“She cornered me,” Noah says, holding his arms up in surrender. “I just went along with it.”
“You and your dick.” I scowl at him. “Keep it in your pants. There are reporters everywhere.”
“Outside, sure. What’s gotten into you?” Noah glances past me, presumably at Emerson. “Everything okay in romancelandia?” he jokes.
“Just peachy.” I reach behind me, grabbing hold of Emerson’s hand, and I tug her to follow me past Noah and back into the crowd. My gaze darts around, looking for Brad, which I know is a bad idea, but I can’t stop myself, either.
“Kyler, I didn’t confide in you so you’d start a fight.” Her fingers graze my cheek, bringing my gaze down to her stare.
Her eyes are glistening, and she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. There’s a smear of blood. It’s small and tiny, but I hate seeing Emerson hurt herself.
My thumb grazes her lips, and the longer I stare, the calmer I feel. Like she’s a siren, and she’s lulling me into the harbor. Except she’s not going to make me crash, she wouldn’t do that. She’s protecting me.
“What was all that about?” Em asks as she sizes me up. Her gaze moves over me with a questioning glance, and I stand taller, trying to shrug off her concern.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing doesn’t result in shoving your teammate,” Em says. She’s on point, but how can she not be pissed about what she saw?
“She’s married.”
“And he’s a prick,” Em says pointedly. “I’m not excusing her behavior, but you have no business getting into fights with your friends over a girl who isn’t your concern.”
“It wasn’t about the girl,” I say a little too quickly.
She nods knowingly and does that cute thing with her one eyebrow raised above the other. “You can’t go assaulting Brad or your teammates over what happened. Your friend doesn’t deserve it, and he’s a big boy. If he wants to make out with a married woman—”
“I don’t like seeing my friends get played,” I say, clearing my throat. “And she was using him.”
Her tongue darts out to the side, and she offers a quick nod of understanding. She doesn’t argue with me, and I take that as a win, at least for tonight.
Leaning in closer, my lips brush against her ear. “Do you want to get out of here?” I ask.
“Don’t we have to mingle or something?” Emerson asks.
She’s right. We’ve barely made introductions with anyone other than the guys on the team and Coach. If I leave now, I’m risking renewing my contract, which is up at the end of the season. I have to play nice with Fitzgerald, who I thought was worse than that FBI asshat with a pole shoved up his butt, until I found out what he did to Em.
And now, I’m not keen on introducing Fitzgerald to Emerson, mostly because of Fitzgerald’s reputation. I’m not afraid of losing Em to him, I’m more concerned about how he’ll treat her, and I’ll be stuck between a rock and a hard place when he hits on her. Because undoubtedly, he will.
She looks fricking gorgeous tonight. What man wouldn’t stare at her perfect tits?
And while I’m sure she can handle herself, she shouldn’t have to be ogled and harassed by decrepit men.
“Fine,” I say, relenting because she’s right. I want to stay glued to her hip. I wrap my arm around her waist, keeping her close to me, my lips brushing against her ear every so often as I lean in close to make sure she can hear me over the crowd and live band.
Brad glances in our direction and turns on his feet, heading the opposite way. Good, it’s one less pig to deal with again. If he so much as glances at Emerson again, I’ll knock his teeth out.
Another reason to stay joined at the hip with Emerson. If I let her out of my sight, he’ll pounce like the animal he is. And I don’t want anything happening to Em.
“Anyone we should mingle with first?” Emerson asks. She scouts the room, but I suspect she’s also reading the crowd, getting a feel if anyone poses a danger.
I shouldn’t have doubted her at first sight. Just because she’s petite doesn’t mean she’s not fierce. It makes her the perfect undercover candidate because no one would suspect that she’s former FBI and a trained agent.
