Page 158 of Broken Saint

“We were in college. We all drank anything offered,” he argues.

No one has a response to that, because we all know it’s true. So instead, Peyton follows up with, “I ordered Starbucks, so you don’t need to worry about offending your precious tastebuds.”

“Appreciate it, Dunn.”

“El, I got your favorite. And I know you probably don’t want it, but I got your favorite pastry too.”

My stomach knots at the thought of food right now, but I appreciate the gesture all the same.

“Thank you,” I whisper, responding to something that’s been directed my way for the first time since my life imploded. “Coffee?” West asks, shifting me on his lap so he can pass me a takeout cup.

Lifting my head, I look up. My breath catches at the pain I find reflected back at me in West’s eyes.

The lump in my throat grows. I want to tell him that everything is going to be okay. But I can’t. There is a very good chance that it won’t be, and I refuse to lie to him.

“Thank you,” I mouth, wrapping my hands around the cup when he passes it over.

I let the warmth rush up my arms in the hope it’ll help soothe some of the pain.

It doesn’t.

I’m not sure anything can.

We all sip our drinks in silence, lost in our own thoughts.

I should get off West’s lap, I’m aware of that, but still, I never move.

His tight grip on my waist is helping to keep me together. I’m not brave enough to lose it.

Loud voices outside the small room we’ve taken over are the first sign we’re about to get company. The second is the door flying open a beat before Kane, Luca, Leon, Brax, and a handful of other Saints and Chiefs players spill into the room.

Suddenly, the space seems too small to contain us. I recognize everyone. Years of stalking Colt and his career means that I can name every single player on the Saints roster, but while he’s probably close to them, I have no idea who they really are and their presence right now makes me uncomfortable.

Brax drops into the empty chair beside us and takes my hand while the others step closer and offer West their support.

He thanks them as I keep my face tucked against his chest and focus on Kane, Luca, and Leon as they sweep my best friends into their arms.

The others move away, I assume to take a seat and wait with us.

I tense even more in West’s arms, and to my amazement, he understands.

“I appreciate the fuck out of this, I really do. But is there any chance you can wait elsewhere?” he asks.

“Shit, man. Yeah, of course,” someone says.

“There are a shitload of fans outside already,” another deep voice explains. “Everyone is rooting for him.”

West nods as the volume in the room thankfully lessens.

The second the door clicks shut, I look up at West.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I whisper.

“I did, El. This is about family.”

I hold his eyes for a beat before looking at Brax and then the couples on the other side of the room and nod.

Family.