Chapter 5

Headlights cut through the rain.

The black SUV stopped beyond the gate, and relief loosened my chest. Russell climbed out immediately in black trousers and a white shirt, a bruise beside his mouth. His eyes swept over my wet hair and shaking hands.

“What happened?”

“My boss promised me a company car, then left. The last bus is gone and there are no drivers.” My teeth knocked together. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have called if anyone else had answered.”

Something tightened in his jaw, but his voice remained flat, “get in.”

The rain came down harder as he shrugged out of his coat and held it above my head. He walked me to the SUV while the downpour soaked through his shirt. By the time he opened the passenger door, the white fabric was moulded to his sculpted chest and water ran from his hair.

I climbed into the heat and held my hands over the vents. Russell got behind the wheel and turned the temperature higher.

“Thank you for coming,” I said as he pulled onto the road.

“You said I was your last choice.”

“You were. Nobody else answered.”

Russell glanced at me. “Does repeating that help?”

“A little.”

His mouth moved faintly before he faced the road.

The dashboard light caught the bruise beside his lip. A cut split the swollen skin. I looked away, then found myself looking again.

“What happened to your mouth?”

Russell’s fingers tightened around the wheel. “Nothing.”

“It’s bleeding.”

He dragged his tongue over the cut, catching me watching. Heat climbed into my face.

“Do you always look this bad after a game?”

“You should see the other guy.”

The car turned and his expression changed. Only for a second. His shoulders locked and a breath escaped through his nose before his face became unreadable again.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

The lie arrived too quickly.

Russell parked outside the house and handed me my phone from his charger. Its screen came alive between us.

“Thank you,” I said again. “I would have been completely stuck without you.”

For once, his expression held no amusement. He held my eyes in the dim car.

“You called,” he said. “I came.”

The words settled somewhere beneath my ribs. I looked down at my phone before he could see that they had affected me.

Inside, Russell tossed his keys onto the kitchen island and dropped his wet coat beside them. He pulled the soaked shirt from his trousers and began undoing the buttons.

“I need to get out of this.”

His fingers reached the third button before they stopped. His face tightened, and one hand closed around the edge of the island.

I moved closer, “Russell?”

“I’m fine.” He tried again, but lifting his arm dragged a sharp breath from him.

The opening in his shirt exposed the dark edge of something near his waist.

“What is that?”

“Nothing.” He pulled the fabric together, hiding it.

I caught both sides before he could move away, “let me fucking see.”

“Darcy.”

The warning in my name should have stopped me. Instead, I pulled. Two buttons snapped free and bounced across the kitchen floor.

Russell went completely still.

I pushed the wet shirt from his shoulders. My knuckles skimmed the warm skin beneath his collarbone, and his chest expanded beneath my hands.

“The clause,” he said quietly. I couldn't believe he could still squeeze a joke in at a time like this.

“I don’t care about the clause right now.”

His eyes darkened, but he allowed me to drag the clinging sleeves down his arms. The shirt landed in a wet heap between us.

For one disloyal second, I forgot why I had taken it off.

His chest was broad and hard, his stomach cut into lines that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants. Water moved slowly down his skin. I followed one drop before sense returned and forced my gaze towards his side.

My breath caught.

A bruise covered his ribs, dark purple at its centre with swelling spreading around it. Beneath it, a strip of skin had split open. Dried blood streaked his side.

“Russell.” My hands hovered uselessly between us. “What the hell happened to you?!”

“I took a hit.”

“The trainer let you leave like this?”

His expression closed. “He didn’t get the chance.”

The answer made no sense, but the colour had drained from his face.

“Sit down.”

Russell held my gaze for a moment before lowering himself onto the stool. He did not argue but his silence felt more intimidating than anger.

I found the first aid box beneath the sink and crouched in front of him. His knees parted to make room for me, bringing my face level with his crotch.

I focused on the wound which was hard considering if someone walked in right now, they'd think I was in the middle of giving him a blowjob.

“This might sting,” I snapped back to reality.

“Do it.”

I soaked gauze with saline and pressed it against the cut. His stomach contracted sharply. It was the only reaction he allowed, but a vein rose along his forearm where he gripped the stool.

My free palm settled on his thigh to steady myself and the muscle jumped beneath my fingers.

“Tell me if it hurts.”

His eyes stayed on my face, “keep going.”

I cleaned the dried blood slowly, moving the gauze along the broken skin. Each time his body tensed, my fingers tightened around his thigh. His breathing grew deeper, and I assumed the pressure was hurting him.

I leaned closer to inspect the deepest part of the cut. My palm shifted higher without me noticing.

Russell’s hand suddenly closed around my wrist.

My head snapped up. His jaw was locked, his eyes darker than they had been seconds earlier.

“Darcy.”

“Did I hurt you?!” My eyes widened as I tried to scan his strained face for any signs.

His gaze dropped to my hand gripping his inner thigh.

My gaze followed his, landing on the hard ridge straining beneath his sweatpants.

Oh…