“No,” he says.

“Yes. I have to tell him everything—about the cartel and what happened to you last night. I don’t think it’s a good idea if you’re there when I tell him. I need to have Grayson thinking rationally, not trying to kill his little brother. Once I have him thinking straight, I’ll bring him around to talk to you.”

“What do I do while you do that?”

“Don’t go back to your place. Just in case the cartel wises up and comes looking for you. Do you have anywhere to go that they don’t know about?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

I pull the keys to my apartment from my bag. “Go to my place. You’ll be safe there.” I give him my address. “Don’t call or speak to anyone. I’ll try to be as quick as I can with Grayson. Then I’ll come home and we’ll figure this out—the three of us. Don’t worry.”

I get up, hanging my bag on my shoulder.

As I walk past him, Tyler touches my shoulder. “Thanks—for everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Thank me when this is all over, when you and Grayson are safe.”

Chapter 20

I arrive at the Bubble and have an easy time getting in to see Grayson. The security guy from last night is on reception today and he recognizes me and leads me straight through. I head out to the field, knowing that’s where Grayson will be.

He’s scrimmaging with his teammates, so I take a seat up in the stands. Watching him out on the field is really something special. He’s magical out there. His teammates are great, but Grayson shines especially bright.

Once the scrimmage comes to an end, he sees me sitting up in the stands. I watch him move toward me, removing his helmet, so I start to make my way down the steps. “Hey,” I say, stopping on the bottom rung.

“Hey,” he says, holding his helmet in both his hands. He stares down at it. “I was going to call you.”

“You were?”

“Yeah,” he says, shifting the helmet into one hand and running the other hand through his wet hair. I know that he’s just run around the field, but I can’t stop imagining that I’ve made that hair sweaty in bed instead. “I was going to call you as soon as practice was over.” He steps closer to me—so close I smell the sweat on him. It’s a primal male scent and I can’t get enough of it. It does funny things to my stomach and makes my legs feel weak.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a low voice. Reaching out, he wraps his large hand around my wrist, drawing my eyes to it. “I was totally out of it last night.”

I lift my eyes from where we’re joined and stare at him and say, “You don’t need to always be at your peak performance with me, Grayson.”

He lets out a soft laugh and says, “Using sports terminology now, are we, lawyer?”