Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras Book 7) by Bianca Sommerland Page A

Oriana and Max would look like.
    “I promised I’d try harder. And I haven’t. I didn’t mean to do this again.” He sighed, pushing away from the sofa to stand. “Is Oriana okay? She knows this has nothing to do with her, right? I’m just…fucked up.”
    “You’re not fucked up, you’re just a slow learner.” Max slapped his shoulder, a broad smile on his lips. “You’d never be as indulgent with a sub as we’ve been with you. Rather than worrying if you’ll share too much when you’re feeling all exposed, how about you consider that maybe you need to share that part of yourself with us?”
    Realizing he was clenching his jaw to the point of pain, Sloan forced himself to relax. And scratched the scruff on his jaw. “I left before I could tell you both how much I love you. It felt…sappy. And I don’t do—”
    “Fuck, man.” Max threw his arm over Sloan’s shoulder and pressed a noisy kiss to his cheek. “I love you too. And next time, I’m cuffing you to the bed frame and forcing you to be sappy and vulnerable and all the rest. No more hiding from us.”
    Not fucking happening. Sloan scowled, but he felt the tension ease from his muscles. Seriously, what was the worst that could happen if he stayed after a scene? The two most precious people in his life had seen him at his lowest. And Max would never let him hurt Oriana in a bad way.
    A smile crept across his lips as he started up the stairs. He was glad Max had come to tell him he was being stupid. He wanted to hold Oriana as she slept. See that she was feeling good after the scene he’d spent months planning.
    He just hoped he hadn’t spoiled everything for her by being a distant asshole.
    As they reached the top of the steps, he heard a loud thump. A cry. Then silence.
    His eyes went wide as Max went still beside him. They moved together, rushing into the bedroom to find the bed empty. Sloan tripped over a pile of clothes on the floor, his knees hitting the carpet as Max strode past him and threw the bathroom door open.
    Oriana was there. And there was blood. Not beautiful, but frightening.
    And she wasn’t moving.
     

Chapter Four
     
    The last act was almost over, but Sahara wasn’t ready for the date to end. She also wasn’t about to let Dominik know that because it seemed a little desperate. If he didn’t ask her to hang out longer, she’d just go home and hope he’d enjoyed himself enough to ask her out again.
    Pretty pathetic, Sahara. You’re not fifteen anymore. Just say something!
    Instead of watching the stage, Dominik had his eyes on her. And a knowing smile on his lips. Her cheeks heated as he reached out to curve his hand under her chin. Something in his eyes made her feel like she’d just painted a very clear picture for him of all her most private thoughts.
    “It’s a little cold out, but would you like to go for a walk?” Dominik’s request sounded so simple, but his attention on her was so intense it was more like being asked to completely expose herself to him. During the show and the meal, there’d been plenty of distractions, but they’d still gotten to know one another better.
    The idea of walking with him shouldn’t be such a big deal, but she knew she’d be letting him in all the way. Having sex would be so much simpler, but he’d made his intentions clear. With him, she’d never have to wonder if she was nothing more than a good time.
    Which was perfect. She was ready to see if this could actually be a new beginning. A real relationship with someone she could trust.
    He didn’t seem surprised that she didn’t answer right away. He inclined his head, watched the rest of the show, and paid the bill. Helped her put on her coat, then held out his hand as if that was the only reply he needed.
    She took a deep breath, a sweet, heart-racing, head-lightening rush hitting her as she placed her hand in his. Being with him felt damn good. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this happy.
    The cold air hit