the window get their phone out to start filming.
“Anders,” she cried, hoarsely. “Don’t.”
Anders looked at her, concern in his eyes, but it gave Harding the opportunity he was looking for and he swung at Olivia. His fist glanced off her cheek and caught Anders firmly in the jaw.
“I said keep your fucking hands off her,” Anders yelled, punching Harding forcefully in the stomach.
Harding lunged forward, catching Anders in his middle, but Anders stood like a mighty, unshakeable . . . iceberg. Cold, calculated, and determined to look after her.
When Harding raised his fists again, Anders wrestled him to the ground.
Olivia pulled her phone out and once she was satisfied the police were on the way, she realized two servers from the restaurant were now holding Harding down as he continued to rant, raging at the destruction her family had caused him.
Tears filled her eyes and she began to shake.
“Hey, Liv. Look at me.” Anders placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her away from Harding. “Are you okay, älskling? Did he hurt you?” He took her chin gently between his finger and thumb and checked her cheek and throat.
“No. I’m . . . he . . . I didn’t . . . oh, god, he hurt you.” Blood trickled from the corner of Anders’s mouth and his knuckles were banged up.
“Don’t worry about me. Who is he? Do you know him?”
Olivia nodded. “He’s the guy whose wedding was cancelled. The first one. God, it was awful. He showed up that morning, yelling and screaming. Dad called the police. He assaulted a police officer. He missed his own wedding. I have a restraining order against him.”
Anders pulled her tightly against his chest. “We can talk about why you didn’t tell me about the restraining order later, but fuck, I wish I’d got another punch or two in. As it is, this will be all over the news by dinner.”
Oh, god. His future contracts, his free agency. “I’m so sorry, Anders. This is going to be a mess for you. You should—”
“Stand here and hold you so we both calm down a little. And then wait with you until the police arrive.”
“But you’ve got to go. You’ve got your flight to Anaheim and your nap and—”
“Stop, Liv. I’m not going anywhere. There’s not a damn thing more important than standing right here next to you. And even if I didn’t want to, let’s say I put the game first and left. I just fought with the guy. I’m pretty sure the police will want to talk to me. So, just shut up and let me hold you. Okay?”
He looked down at her and a wave of love for him so deep it was bottomless washed through her. “I love you,” she whispered.
“And I’m here because I love you.”
Anders’s anger simmered beneath the surface. Like lava, it waited for the moment it could erupt. The Rush had come through for him before he’d even spoken to the police officer. Lenny Sanders, the club’s legal counsel, had been at his side, guiding him through the process. He knew the officers were just doing their jobs taking statements, but in their overly zealous attempts to be neutral, they’d made provocative comments to ensure the authenticity of them. Like suggesting Olivia had overblown Harding’s comments, which were made before people had started recording. Or that Anders had used unnecessary force to apprehend Olivia’s assailant, even though there was video proof that Harding had attacked Liv first.
He watched Olivia as she entered his home and stood in the hallway, as if suddenly out of steam and unable to take a step forward. Initially, she’d been profusely apologetic for the bad publicity he would have to endure. Concerned about the impact the public brawl would have on his contract negotiations. Then she’d become progressively more reserved and focused. She’d called Jake and Emerson and sent them the press release she intended to post on the company website. They’d wanted to rush to her, but Olivia had assured them she was okay. Which she clearly wasn’t.
“Let me take your coat, Liv,” Anders said, reaching for the lapels of her coat.
“You should go and pack,” Olivia replied. “If you go now, you’ll still be ready for the match tomorrow against—”
“I’m not playing tomorrow.”
Olivia’s eyes met his. “What do you mean you aren’t playing? You have to. What about the call with your agent? New York will be concerned if—”
“Liv. Stop.” He didn’t want to tell her why, but he