Page 119

Neither of us did.

“We just⁠—”

“We did.”

I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. The absurdity of it hit all at once. We’d had sex on a treatment table in an empty arena after I’d flown back from an interview for a job I might still take.

He pulled back to look at me, concerned. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know.” The laughter turned wet. “I think so?”

“That’s not exactly the response I was hoping for.”

“No, it’s…” I cupped his face. “It was perfect. You were perfect. I’m just overwhelmed.”

“Me too,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” My voice cracked. “And that’s scary.”

“Good scary or bad scary?”

“I don’t know that yet either.”

He pulled out carefully. I winced slightly.

“Sore?”

“Good sore.”

He grabbed paper towels and cleaned us both up with a gentleness that made my breath come in sharp little hitches. When he helped me off the table, my legs were shaky.

“You’re alright?”

“I need a minute.”

“Take all the time you need.”

I put my panties back on. He handed me my blouse. I slipped my arms through the sleeves and buttoned it with trembling hands, my brain finally catching up to my body.

Denver had been perfect. The CEO had walked me through facilities that made our setup here look like a high school gym. State-of-the-art equipment. Internationally ranked athletes. A team of specialists I’d learn from. But while walking through the glass-walled offices, I’d kept thinking about purple sticky notes. About early morning coffee cups and instruction sheets with smiley faces.

About a parking lot where someone watched to make sure I got to my car safely.

“What are you thinking about?” Brashe asked.

“Denver.” I looked up at him. “They showed me everything. It was impressive.”

His jaw tightened. “And?”

“And I kept thinking about here.”

Something flickered in his eyes. “Is that good or bad?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you have to put the armor back on?” he asked.

I looked at the blazer on the floor. “Not tonight.”