Page 84 of Backup Plan

I’m just not ready to let her go.

This right here is bliss. Perfection. It’s her and me, and the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

Reality is gone. I don’t have practice tomorrow, and she doesn’t have work, and my father’s trial isn’t starting in less than twenty-four hours. Not in this bubble.

Except the bubble must burst soon since she has to get on a plane, and the rest of the realities will slowly come back into focus. It won’t just be the two of us on a lazy Sunday morning. It’ll be obligations and families and trials.

We’re lying in bed naked and sated, and she’s on her stomach. I’m on my side as I run my fingertips along her spine, worshipping her porcelain skin after yet another round of sex that feels like it only brought us closer.

“I can’t stop thinking about that house on the north canyon rim,” I say absentmindedly as I continue stroking a pattern along her skin, my fingers dancing as if they were made specifically to touch her body.

The house I’m referring to is about twenty minutes from the airport, and it’s situated about in the middle between the practice center and the stadium.

It has five bedrooms, which would give us room to grow. You couldn’t have paid me two months ago to believe this is how I’d be thinking right now.

My contract is only two years here in San Diego. It might be stupid to purchase a house. It would likely make more sense to just rent for those two years since I don’t know what might be next for me.

And it never really mattered when I only had myself to consider. But now I think about Penny. I think about how I want her to be comfortable and to feel settled when she comes to visit me and how I can see her and the boys with me in that house.

“What do you like about it?”

“Location. Views. The way your eyes lit up in the family room against the natural light. That kitchen counter where I want to fuck you until you’re seeing stars.”

She gasps. “Then you should put in an offer.”

I chuckle. “What did you think about it?”

“Is that the one with the white countertops?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“Mm,” she murmurs. “Yeah, that counter was made for sex. But truly, I loved that house. The pool, the way you could see downtown and the mountains from the backyard…gorgeous.”

“I want you there with me,” I say quietly. At this point, it feels like I’m begging, but at the same time, I’m not really very well-versed in relationships. My past ones have all been more like situationships, and this feels so much bigger than that. I guess I just keep saying what’s on my mind because keeping it on the inside feels harder.

Even if sometimes hearing what I have to say might feel hard for her.

She turns so she’s lying on her side and bends her elbow, propping her head on her hand. “Truthfully, Liam, I’d love to be there with you, too. But how? How do we make that work?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. But I want to. You said something the other day that has stayed with me.”

She points to her chest. “I did?”

I laugh. “Yes. You’re very wise, you know.”

She giggles.

“You said the whole idea of a relationship is shouldering burdens together, and I want to help shoulder yours however I can. And I mean whether you’re here with me or in Chicago as we figure out some way to make this work. I have the means, Pen, and I want to be able to use them, whether it means getting the best lawyer to fight your ex or financially…whatever I can do. Please let me help.”

Tears shine in her eyes. “That’s so kind of you, Liam. Really. But I couldn’t possibly ask you for—”

“You didn’t,” I interrupt.

Her brows push together.

“You didn’t ask me for anything, Pen. You never do. You make sacrifices. You drop everything to visit me in San Diego. You give up what little free time you have to go to baseball games and soccer practice and to practice math facts and to read every night with the boys. You never ask anyone for any help at all, and maybe that’s why I want to give it to you. You didn’t ask. I offered.”

She studies me a beat, and then she gives me her honesty. “I guess I’ve just been doing this on my own for so long that I feel like I should be able to handle it. I’ve always been that way. You know? I don’t know how to ask for help. I just hold it together on my own as best I can.”