He gave a short chuckle before he grew serious. The buzzer sounded again. He looked over his shoulder, but turned back to me. “I’ll bring your carry-on up here, but take your time coming down. These guys are…” He sighed.

Buzz.

BUZZ!

He ran a hand through his hair, scooting to the edge of his bed. The sheet pooled over his waist, but I appreciated the corded muscles in his back.

He stood and looked back down at me.

His jaw was back to clenching, and my heart sank.

“Look—”

BUZZZZZZZ!

He ignored it, bending down so his hands rested on both sides of me, an apology already in his eyes. “Meeting you at camp and the time with you afterward has helped me. It distracted me from what’s happening now.” His eyes softened, and he smoothed his thumb down the side of my cheek, leaving a trail of tingles. “I don’t know how to say this, except that a guy’s gotta…”

He paused again, took another breath. His eyes flashed, a hardness replacing the gentleness before. “Being a pro athlete, you’re a professional. You have to be. This is my day at the office, and along with that comes lines I won’t cross, people I won’t let in, and I put up harsh boundaries sometimes. It’s a high-pressure living, and that means sometimes I’ll be hard, but not with you. Whatever you see from me down there, I’ll never be like that with you. I want you to know that.”

I nodded, speechless, as he twisted around. The buzzer was a constant now, and he pulled on some pants, cursing as he went out of the room.

I was dazed, from all of this.

He had kissed me like he was starving, then shoved inside like he was dehydrated. I loved it—every bit of it—but the warning? That had fallen to the pit of my stomach. What kind of guys were they that had come over?

He brought my carry-on upstairs just before his door opened and we heard someone holler, “Reese?”

There’d been no time to talk, and he’d disappeared after running a hand over his face.

I showered, marveling at his bathroom, then got dressed. It was an hour later when I was ready, and three more voices had joined the conversation downstairs. I couldn’t make out their words, but I could hear them. There was some shouting, curses, and low murmuring too.

“I don’t give a shit!” Reese barked as I left the room.

His bedroom was on the second floor. At the end of the hallway, stairs covered in white carpet swept down to the front door. I could tell they’d gathered in a room off to the side—probably the living room.

And here I was, not sure what to do.