flight,” Jill said merrily, leaning in to press a kiss to Tiller’s cheek. “Hi, love. How are you feeling?”
He frowned and looked at me again. This time I recognized nerves in that expression on his face. There was something he wasn’t telling me. “I’m feeling fine,” he grumbled.
“What flight?” I asked.
We all made our way into the kitchen sitting area since Tiller and I had made it our de facto hangout spot. I immediately went into my usual host mode, helping everyone find a place for their dishes and then offering drinks around. It looked like they’d brought a ready-made spread from a honey ham–type place which made me shudder. If only they’d given me some notice, I could have whipped up something homemade.
Jill followed Tiller to the stone hearth as he began building a fire. “Do you really think you’re ready to go back?”
“What flight?” I asked again, feeling a little light-headed.
Tiller’s nostrils flared. “Nothing. No flight.”
Jill frowned and glanced over at Moose. “But Coach Vining called your father last night. He said they needed you back for next Sunday’s game.”
I felt the blood rush from my face, not because my father was an asshole who seemed content to put Tiller’s health at risk, but because Tiller clearly knew and chose not to tell me. “Excuse me.”
I turned to make my way back to my bedroom as calmly as I possibly could. Tiller’s voice sounded oddly loud in my ears. “Mikey, wait.”
I waved a dismissive hand over my head without saying a word and kept walking. It was fine. He didn’t owe me anything. It wasn’t like we were… anything to each other. Well, except I did still work for him, and technically, I was the one who was supposed to make the travel arrangements. Even though I knew I was overreacting, the fact he’d hidden this from me stung like a bitch.
I spun on my heel and jabbed a finger in his chest when he came closer. “Fuck. You.”
“Baby, wait.”
“Do not ‘baby’ me. Don’t. What? Did you think I couldn’t handle a change of plans? That I was going to curl up into some kind of fragile ball of crybaby if you—” I suddenly realized his entire family was standing at the entrance to the back hallway gaping at us. “Never mind,” I choked out before turning into my bedroom and throwing the door closed.
Everything in my body wanted to curl up into a fragile ball of crybaby.
Tiller caught the door before it slammed and followed me in, closing it carefully once we were both inside.
“Michael.” His voice was soft, but it held five years of emotions. I met his eyes, and my heart thudded to a stop. I didn’t want him to call me that. I never wanted him to call me that. “Please stop.”
I crossed my arms in front of mud thundering heart. “It’s fine.”
He stepped closer and reached for my upper arms. “It’s definitely not fine. I didn’t tell you he wanted me back because I was in denial about it, okay?”
I saw the mixed-up feelings behind his eyes, and suddenly I wanted to let him off the hook. I didn’t want him to be emotional over me when he had a job to do.
“Tiller, it’s okay,” I said more sincerely. “It just surprised me, that’s all. I should have known he’d call you back. There was no way you could actually spend a month away during the damned season. I was a fool to think you could.”
His arms slid under mine and wrapped around my back, pulling me in for a tight hug that lifted me to my toes. “I’m sorry,” he said into my neck. The rumble of his familiar voice against my chest loosened some of the tension between us. I didn’t want to fight. I wasn’t mad at him. I was mad at the circumstances. And furious with my father for treating people like his own personal chess pieces.
“Me too.”
His lips moved along my neck up to my ear and down along my jaw to my lips, leaving tiny kisses in their wake. “One more night, though. Think we can make it count?”
I would not cry. I would not feel sorry for my pathetic, lovesick ass who’d dreamed of more than only one more night with this kind and sexy man.
“Damned right,” I said despite the tightness in my chest and the churn in my gut. I wasn’t giving up my chance at having sex with Tiller Raine, and now our