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“And talk, but Luther mentioned that you hadn’t had a real meal in several days, so I felt it might be a good idea to bring you your favorites, soften you up a little after my arriving unannounced.” I’m nervous, so I start peeling the cellophane from the takeout. “Are you hungry?”
“Not right now.” She wrings her hands.
I imagine this level of anxiety is overwhelming for her, so I decide to cut to the chase and spit it all out. I prop my fists on the counter and take a deep breath. “Look, I know you think you’re a mess, Charlene—”
“I don’t think I’m a mess, I am one.”
“But you’re my mess, and I’m yours, and nothing has changed that. Not for me. Has it changed for you?”
“No, but—”
“If it hasn’t changed, there shouldn’t be a but. Why can’t we be a mess together? Why do you feel like you have to go through this on your own? Let me be here for you.”
“But what if you leave?” she asks softly.
I frown. “Why would I be here if I was planning to leave?”
Her fingers go to her lips. “What about the expansion draft?”
“You mean if Vegas takes me?”
“Yes. What happens then?”
No one ever gets what they want if they don’t ask for it. “First of all, I don’t think it’s going to happen. There are two other players who are younger, faster, and better than I am, and they’ve brought on someone new to Vegas to keep Lucas, the owner, from making a bunch of stupid-ass decisions, which includes pulling someone as old as me over to a brand new team. But, should the unthinkable happen and I do have to go to Vegas, I want you come with me. But only if that’s what you want. And if you don’t, we try to make the long distance work, or maybe I take early retirement so I can stay right here.”
“But you’d have to break your contract.”
“The money doesn’t mean anything, Charlene. Nothing means anything without you. I want you however you come—broken, messed up, in leather, lace, satin, cotton pajamas . . . However you are, it’s just you I want.” I step around the island, closing the distance between us. “I keep telling you that, waiting for you to hear me.”
Charlene’s eyes are wide. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, looking every bit the elusive firefly she often is. I understand it better now. I get her in a way I never could have before.
I cup her face in my hands. “I know you want to run from this. I know this whole thing scares you, but understand this, Charlene, I love you. That’s the only truth you need. Everything else in that head of yours is white noise. All the worries are pointless. I want this with you, and I don’t care if it’s messy and fucked up and no one understands it but us.” I smooth my thumbs over her cheeks. “Be with me in this, Charlene. No more of this you live at your house and I live at mine. If we’re going to be together, let’s just be together.”
“Wait, what?” She frowns. “You want me to move in with you?”
That her first reaction appears to be confusion isn’t reassuring, I drop my hands and step back, giving her space. “You were staying at my place more than here over the last couple of months. Moving in is the next logical step, isn’t it?”
Her fingers go to her mouth. Her panic isn’t what I want to see, but I’ve dropped a pretty huge bomb on her without any kind of warning, after a week of not seeing or speaking to her beyond daily texts to see if she’s okay. Maybe pushing my entire agenda on her wasn’t the best plan.
“You’re asking a lot all at once,” she murmurs.
“I’m not asking you to do much more than you already were.” Except give up her house and share my space with me on a permanent basis. Not unreasonable after two years. Although maybe just managing our relationship and making sure we’re stable first would’ve been a good start. It’s possible I’ve jumped the gun here, but then again, sometimes Charlene needs to be pushed.
“What if we fight?”
“I expect that might happen on occasion, since I can be an asshole. There are four bedrooms in my house. I anticipate there may be nights I have to relocate, depending on how badly I piss you off.”
“I’m not joking, Darren.”
“Neither am I.” I try to smile, but I’m sure it falls a little flat.
She closes her eyes and turns her head away. I don’t know if I’m winning her or losing her. I’m about to tell her she doesn’t have to decide in this moment, that she can have more time if she needs it, mostly so she won’t say no.
