the broken one, comforting me. But I can’t help it. His pain is my pain. It seeps into me, weighing me down until I can’t move.
“Landen,” I whisper against his bandaged chest.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he promises. I raise my tear-stained face to his and he frowns.
I wince as he rubs his thumb across my upper lip. I already forgot about it. I checked the mirror after he left earlier. It’s bruised and swollen. But nothing compared to what he looks like right now. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” I say right back to him. But it is. I don’t know how everything got so messed up. But it is.
“T ake it easy,” I tell Landen as I help him up the stairs. His arm is draped over my shoulders but I know he’s only got about half his weight actually on me. “One more step.”
My stomach tightens at what awaits us inside our apartment. Or rather, what his reaction to it will be. But I was out of options.
I pull out my key and unlock the door. But before I push it open, I lose my nerve. “Babe, I need to tell you something. I’m sorry, please don’t be mad.”
He turns to me with an arched brow.
I take a deep breath, trying to steel my nerves with oxygen. It helps a little. Not much, but enough. “I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. But you need help. We need help.”
“What are you talking about?”
I push the door open, hating myself for feeling grateful that he’s not in any shape to run out.
Four pairs of eyes regard us warily as we walk in.
“Fucking hell,” Landen mumbles under his breath. “Seriously?” he turns to me with betrayal in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I say as tears pool in my own. I tug him forward gently.
“Well isn’t this a nice welcome home.” His tone is sharp and wounded all at once. I take a few deep breaths. I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but what other option did I have?
Skylar, Corin, Landen’s mom, and the manager of the soccer club he works for all stand to greet us.
“I’m guessing you weren’t expecting us,” Sean McBride says. The Barcelona Club manager is short and stocky but has an air of authority that makes him seem ten feet tall. He also has a Scottish accent that makes us sound like oos .
“No, sir, I wasn’t,” Landen says through gritted teeth.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. Your girl here, she’s worried about ya,” he answers, coming forward to shake Landen’s hand. “Truthfully, we all are.”
I watch Landen’s green eyes darken as they skitter over his mother. But they lighten again as he nods to Skylar. “Skylar, you worried about me?”
Skylar jerks his chin upward. “Yeah, man. Shit keeps me up at night.” He grins as if they share a private joke.
“Well I’m not fucking worried about you. Even if you do look like you were hit by a truck,” Corin chimes in. “I’m worried about my best friend. And if her lip looks like that because of you, you’re going to look a whole lot worse.”
Oh crap. I forgot about that. “Corin—”
“No, she’s right. Call your boys, Ginger. Give them my address. I deserve it.”
Corin glares at him and I step between them. “Stop. Just stop.”
“Landen,” his mother breaks in from beside us. “Baby, I—”
“Don’t you baby me,” he snarls at her. “In fact, don’t even fucking talk to me.”
This is going well.
“Sit down. All of you,” I command. “Now.”
They all do as I say, which nearly shocks me into silence. I spoke with the lady at Axis about how to handle this. Her advice was to stay calm and in control. Not to let anyone’s emotions escalate too high. Obviously she’s never met Landen. She might as well have told me to relocate Mt. Kilimanjaro while I was at it.
I take a deep breath and stand. “I’ve asked each of you here because I don’t know what else to do. You all know that Landen and I keep our personal lives personal, maybe too personal. So personal that when things started to spiral out of control, I felt like I
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley