I smiled a bit. “I wasn’t up until ten.”
“See.”
I looked at my sneakers with my cheeks warming, and then back up at him. “What else do you know about me, Braden Lock?”
It was an opening, a peace offering, and Braden’s shoulders relaxed with relief before he took it.
“I know you like a hot shower and a joint after a long day,” he said, slowly closing the distance between us. I felt my pulse quicken with every step he took. “I know you start every morning with stretching in bed — which drives me mad, by the way — and that you hate Popsicles because they hurt your teeth. I know you love to get random tattoos that mean nothing at all, that piercings bring you joy even if you take them out after a fewdays, and that nothing makes you happier than having your nails done, but you hate the process ofgettingthem done.”
“It’s the worst,” I agreed, my voice soft with laughter.
He smiled, and when he reached me, he slowly made his way down to the floor in front of me.
Being face to face with him after all the ache of being apart had my chest splitting in half. I searched his gaze, let my eyes wash over his body, took in the exhaustion and pain he wore like a t-shirt. He’d been through so much in the last week. We both had.
“I know the sounds you make when you’re about to come,” Braden whispered, his gaze heating. “And the way your hands feel when you’re eager to get me undressed.”
“Naughty,” I teased.
It was so hard not to climb him like a tree after that.
“I know you love me,” Braden continued, and he took my hands in his, holding them tight, his eyes fixed on mine. “Even when I make it hard to do so. I know you flew out to be with me when I needed you. I know you care enough about me that you were willing to walk away from a team that brings you so much joy.” He paused, shaking his head. “And I know I fucked up by letting you go, by pushing you away when all I wanted was to hold onto you like a life raft in a storm.”
I nodded, squeezing his hands.
“I was scared,” he admitted. “Fucking terrified, actually. And I have been my whole life. I just… I’ve always been good at making it look like I’m not.”
His thumb brushed over my knuckles, like he needed the contact to keep going.
“When everything happened with Ginny, it was like my world split in two. Before and after. Before, I thought if I worked hard enough, planned enough, controlled enough, I could build a life where nothing bad touched the people I love. And after…” Hehuffed a humorless breath. “After I realized none of that shit matters. You don’t get to control life. You just… survive it.”
My chest tightened, but I didn’t interrupt.
“So, I adapted,” he went on. “I told myself the way to protect the people I love is to limit the risk. Keep things clean. Focused. No distractions. No mess. No… attachments that could complicate everything.”
His eyes flicked up to mine, full of regret.
“And then you happened.”
A tear slipped down my cheek.
“And I didn’t know what to do with that,” he said, shaking his head. “Because you weren’t clean or simple or easy. You were everything — messy and chaotic and tempting. You woke me up. You made me want to live outside the lines for the first time. You… you challenged me,” he said with a swallow. “And instead of rising to meet that, I bailed at the first sign of trouble.”
He paused, looking down at our hands for a long moment before he continued.
“I told myself I was being responsible. That I was doing the right thing — for me, for my family, for you. But really, I was just doing what I’ve always done — choosing the path where I don’t have to risk losing more.”
His grip on my hands tightened.
“Ginny is awake, extubated, getting back to her normal, no-nonsense having self,” he said with a smile, his eyes finding mine. “And she saw right through my bullshit.”
I laughed. “Why does this not surprise me?”
He nodded, a small, almost disbelieving smile pulling at his mouth. “Yeah. She… she can’t speak it the way we do, but she typed it out for me. Took her forever, and she was so damn stubborn about making me hear every word even though I know it was exhausting for her.”
A soft breath left his chest, like the memory alone unraveled him.
“She told me I didn’t walk away from you for her. Or for my family. Or even for football. She said I did it because I was scared. And she was right.”
