“On his way to the police station to sober up in the drunk tank.” The guard, who was looking at Zach like he was a guy walking a tightrope over a bonfire, stood up from his chair, walked over to the water cooler, and filled one of those paper triangle cups, handing it to Zach.
He downed it in one gulp, the coolness of it sharp in comparison to the heat sizzling through him as he kept his attention locked on Fallon. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
That, and the fact that the cops had already yanked the dickbag from the building, did more for slowing his breathing and his heart rate than anything else.
“Did he scare you?” he asked.
Fallon scoffed. “Not in the slightest.”
She was lying. It was as plain as the way her gaze dropped just the slightest bit and zinged to the left in the breath before she responded. The woman knew he made his living reading just those kinds of signals, didn’t she? The ability to read an opponent like that was the difference between a brief stint in the minors and a career in the big time.
Zach turned to the security guard, Ed going by his name tag. “Can we have a second?”
“Sure.” Ed nodded at him before turning to Fallon and grinning. “It seems I have some video to go watch anyway.”
“Finally,” she said with a chuckle. “A man who can admit when he’s wrong.”
“I’m more rare than a butterfly in February.” Ed gave Fallon a good-natured wink and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.
Th
at left him and Fallon in the small office together. He walked over to the desk she sat on and handed her his hoodie. She looked down at the dark blue material with his name written on it in silver thread like it was an exotic object that she’d never seen in real life before.
“Put it on,” he said, his tone tight because he didn’t understand why it mattered so much at that moment.
She shook her head. “I’m okay. I’m just letting mine dry out a little”
“Please.” The single word was out before he knew what would come after. Lucky for him, he was quick on his feet. “You can pull up the hood and it’ll help hide your face a bit when you have to walk through the crowd. The press have already caught wind of everything. Ed can walk with you to the players’ entrance.”
“Why would I go that way? The car is parked in the east lot.” Always with the questions, but she pulled the hoodie over her head anyway. It nearly engulfed her.
“I’ll take you home.”
One eyebrow went up. “You don’t have a car.”
Fuck. That’s right. You’re broke, Blackburn. Remember?
“How did you get here?” Maybe he could go with her. Make sure she got home safe. Watch until she was safe behind her locked front door.
“My friend Tess.”
She was the hot and cold friend of Lucy’s—either totally silent, which was most of the time, or going on and on about some random topic. “Where’s she?”
“Went to get hot cocoa.”
He stepped closer, reached out, and pulled one of the hoodie strings free that had gotten caught underneath when Fallon had pulled it on. “Why?”
“Didn’t you know?” Her gaze softened and dipped down to his chest. “Chocolate cures everything.” The words came out a little shaky. “She’ll be back any second.”
He took another step closer. “I didn’t mean for this to happen to you.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
His gaze dropped down to her mouth. He didn’t mean for it to, but it happened. All of a sudden it hit him. He was standing between Fallon’s legs as she sat on the desk. His palms were pressed against the dinged-up metal surface on either side of her hips, so close that he’d barely have to move to rub the knuckle of his thumb against the denim of her jeans. Their faces had somehow gotten closer and closer during their exchange, and now his mouth was only inches from hers.
She reached up, the tip of her finger tracing across his collarbone, almost hesitant as if she didn’t want to touch his bare chest but couldn’t help herself. “You have a contusion.”