Liam
“Why are you in a hurry, big guy?” Brit asked, eyes assessing as she started hauling ass to the locker room. “Where are you rushing off to?”
“I’m not rushing off anywhere,” he said. “Just tired.”
A lie, because he was in a hurry.
Mia was waiting, and he’d been detained by the media. He was never interviewed after games. At this point in his career, that always happened to the other guys. Today, however, when he didn’t want to be interviewed, when a very sexy woman was waiting for him, but he’d been pulled in anyway, he was stifling his impatience.
Thankfully, he’d managed to get through the interview quickly, even making the reporters chuckle as he gave a couple of sound bites.
Now, he needed to get his stinky ass clean and meet up with Mia.
“Does this not rushing have to do with the pretty Mia, who’s currently keeping Mandy company in the PT Suite?”
Liam skidded to a stop and whirled around so quickly he nearly stepped off the black mat and onto the concrete floor. The rubber protected his blades from being dulled on the cement—important during a game, less so now when the final buzzer had gone off. Still, his near-trip had done two things. One, he nearly ate it, and Brit busted a gut. Two, he’d not played it cool in any way, shape, or form, and so Brit now knew that his hurry was indeed because he was eager to meet Mia.
“Don’t worry,” Brit said, side-stepping him and setting her stick down in the rack outside the locker room. “I’d heard you’d asked for an escort for a guest after the game, so when I saw you’d been pulled for an interview, I made sure she was stashed away from the wolves.” A wink. “Mandy will watch out for her.”
“Wolves?”
“The gossip-mongers.”
Liam fixed her with a look. “And that isn’t you?” he asked archly.
“Rude.” But Brit was grinning. “Hey, at least I fully admit to my nosy behavior,” she said lightly before her face went serious. “I know it’s hard to be the new one. Mandy will show her around but not scare her off. She’ll be less nosy than the wives and girlfriends in the suite upstairs.”
The WAGs. Shit, he hadn’t thought of that.
“Technically, Mandy is a wife.” A beat. “And you are, too.”
“Not anymore. I’m the player. Stefan is just the ball and chain,” Brit said then tapped her chin. “Hmm. I guess we need to rename the WAGs. The WHAGs? Or does that sound like some scary creature from one of those fantasy books Max is always reading?” She shook herself. “Not the point. Anyway, Mandy’s the nicest one of us. Mia will be fine there.”
Mandy was nice. And it was just as nice that Brit had been looking out for him and for Mia. “Thanks,” he said. “You didn’t have—”
She clapped him on the shoulder. “I got your back, Li.” A grin. “We all do.”
“You just want to know every detail along the way.”
A flick of her blonde ponytail, that grin growing wider. “Damn straight. Now, get your ass in the shower”—she stepped aside, allowing him to pass by and into the locker room—“you stink.”
“It’s the smell of victory,” he quipped.
Her amused snort trailed him into the space.
But Liam was less focused on Brit than on the woman waiting for him.
He got his gear off, showered, and fresh clothes on in record time.
There was a man standing very close to his woman.
Correction: Coop was standing very close to his woman, smiling down at her as he pointed to something in front of him.
Then Mia smiled up at him.
She smiled. At him.
He’d gotten all sharp edges and knocked on his ass, and Coop got smiles and was allowed to stand close.
Liam saw red.
He knew he was being unreasonable, but he was still irritated as he quickly closed the distance between them, sliding a hand around Mia’s waist and tugging her against his side.
Her eyes shot to his, wide and with a trace of annoyance, and he knew he was lucky that she didn’t knock him on his ass right then and there.
But then her face gentled, one half of her mouth curved up into a soft smile.
“Hi,” she murmured.
“Hey, man.” Coop clapped him on the arm. “Great game tonight.”
“Hey.”
Yes, Liam was a bastard because it was clipped out. Yes, he knew he hadn’t yet earned the right to be possessive. Yes, he knew he was being unreasonable.
But dammit, Coop was such a pretty boy. Even though he was married to Calle, even though they had a kid together, most women still melted under his charm. And Mia was smiling at him.
She glanced back down at her hands, and Liam felt a bolt of guilt.
She was holding Coop’s phone, watching a video of his daughter, Emma, holding a tiny hockey stick.
“Already a natural,” Mia said, handing the phone back. “She’s really adorable.”
“Yes, she is.” Coop laughed and slipped the phone back into his pocket. “I’m biased, I know.”
“We parents are allowed to be biased,” Mandy said.
“It’s true,” Mia agreed. “I always know the good parents because they wear their pride like a badge on their sleeve.”
“How many parents do you know?” Mandy asked. “By the way you say that, it sounds like a lot.”
Mia shrugged. “Oh, I run a karate studio, so I meet a lot of parents.”
“Wow.” Pink across the trainer’s cheek. “Why do I feel the urge to pull out my phone and wax poetic over my daughter just so that I know I pass muster?”
Mia laughed. “You pass.” She nodded at Blane, who was holding his daughter, Madeline, and blowing raspberries on her tummy just a few tables away. “How old is she now?”
“Eighteen months.”
“Old enough for me to get her into the karate studio for a real sport,” Mia teased. “That one’s”—she nodded at Coop, who was talking to Gabe Carter, a former M.D. and their current head trainer—“daughter has a few more months to go yet.”
“You do karate for kids that small?” Mandy asked, eyes wide.
“It’s more like controlled playtime for kids aged eighteen months to three years,” Mia said. “But yes, they get a little karate thrown in. Mom and Ninja class meets Wednesdays and Fridays at 11:30 am.”
“That sounds awesome.”
“It’s fun. Never without tears or chaos, but that’s the age, right?” Mia smiled when a shrill cry rang out, exactly on cue. “My dad started the program, and while I think he regretted it, I like getting my baby fix.”
Mandy’s eyes drifted over to Blane, where he was walking their daughter, back and forth. “Dads are great.” A slice of sad invaded. “Or at least, they can be.”
Mia went still, and when she spoke, her voice had gentled. “Looks like your daughter has a great one.”
Mandy nodded. “Maddy is lucky to have him. I’m lucky to—”
Max popped his head around the corner. “Ugh! So much sap in this room! Can we cool it on the love speak?” His gaze flicked to Mia. “Hi, Ms. Caldwell!”
“Hi, Max,” Mia said with a smile.
Mandy shook her head, but Liam noticed the sad had faded. “You’re just as bad about your Angel, Max Montgomery, so I don’t want to hear it.”
“True.” Max smacked a kiss on her cheek. “See you tomorrow.”
“Don’t forget your stretches,” she called as Max disappeared back around the corner. “How do you know Max?” she asked Mia.
“I teach his son, Brayden.”
Mandy’s expression softened. “Love that kid. Oh, shoot.” She set down the roll of tape she held. “Excuse me for just a second,” she told them, glancing over Liam’s shoulder. He saw that Coop had wrapped up his conversation with Gabe and was trying to slip from the room, but Mandy didn’t miss much, and her voice rang across the room, “Cooper Armstrong. A word.”
“Sorry,” she said in an undertone to Mia. “Herding cats.”
Liam’s lips twitched. “Should I be insulted?”
Mandy patted his cheek. “No, you’re one of the few who actually listens to me.”
“Gold star for the day,” he said, lacing his fingers with Mia’s. “We’ll get out of your hair.”
“It’s no trouble,” Mandy said. “I like having people around.”
Mia stepped away from Liam and extended her hand. “Thanks for letting me hang with you.”
“It’s not too often that I meet a person who knows the difference between athletic tape and KT tape, so as far as I’m concerned, you’re hired.” She batted Mia’s hand away. “And I don’t do handshakes. I do hugs.” A beat, already mid-hug when she paused. “Sorry, I should have asked if that’s okay.”
Mia’s arms wrapped around her in turn. “It’s okay. I can handle a hug.”
“Just be careful,” Liam said. “J.B. here is a fifth-degree black belt.”
Mandy pulled back. “Really?”
A shrug. “Yeah. It comes with the territory when you’re in the studio as much as I am.”
“And with hard work.” Liam didn’t like her discounting the effort, minimizing what she could do or the commitment it took to get there. “You should see some of the kicks she can do, and the other day, she flipped me with barely any effort.”
Blane chimed into the conversation. “I’m not sure I want my daughter to know that—”
“Oh, hell no,” Mandy said, interrupting him. “She needs to know all the things. Do you teach groin shots?”
Coop, who’d drifted back over on Mandy’s orders, stepped back.
Probably because she sounded positively gleeful.
Hell, Liam was having a hard time not covering himself with his hands.
“Yes,” Mia said laughing, chocolate eyes filled with mirth. “We teach many different self-defense techniques.”
“Great.” A clap of Mandy’s hand. “How do I sign up?”
“Her up,” Blane said. “This is for Madeline, not you, right?”
At Mandy’s considering expression, Mia laughed again, the sound settling into Liam’s heart. God, he loved these people for making her laugh. “I do teach adult classes,” she said. “But if we are talking about Maddy, then eighteen months is a little early for groin kicks. The rest of it, however—” She reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. “There’s the studio information and my email. We can work out the details, and Maddy can have a trial class to make sure she likes it.”
All the talk of groin shots aside, Liam made a mental note to send Brit a case of beer for getting Mia around Mandy. The trainer was warm and funny and made everyone feel welcome, even stubborn bastards like himself, who tended to hang on the fringes. He was starting to understand what he’d been missing by staying removed. In an attempt to protect himself when he left, he’d neglected to realize that there were good people here, ones who might become good friends.
Like Brit. Like Mandy.
Like Coop and Max and Blane.
Maybe he didn’t have to be an outsider.
And Mia didn’t have to be either.
He knew that he didn’t want that for her. He wanted her surrounded by people who could see the soft inside, who could tease and joke. That was important for his woman, and he didn’t think she’d had enough of that in her life.
And maybe thinking about someone other than himself for a change was going to help him pull his head out of his ass.
Less moping and worrying.
More living. More playing. More finding things that filled instead of deflated.
Mandy gave Mia another hug, this time without the qualifying, and then pulled back and fixed Coop in place with a glare. “Now, how are those ribs?”
“Mandy,” Coop groaned.
“No fuss,” she said. “Get your ass on the table and strip.”
Mia glanced up at Liam, her pretty brown eyes dancing. “I like your friends.”
Liam touched her cheek, knew that even a week ago, he wouldn’t have considered them close enough to be friends. But it had started with Brit at practice. Hell, it had started well before that, he’d just been too closed off to see it.
Now, though, he was going to build it, strengthen it, nurture it—
Because he wasn’t going to let these new connections go.
Because he wasn’t going to let Mia go.