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But the players who were great were the ones who saw the opening and took it despite the play. They were intuitive, adaptive, and knew that sometimes they had to take the game into their own hands because on the field things changed in an instant, and in ways no one calling the plays could’ve predicted. The great players trusted their instincts.
I wanted to change the way I played the game for good.
Hell, things were already changing.
I hadn’t thought I’d ever speak to Rachel again, but I’d just done it.
I hadn’t thought I’d ever pull back from working with sponsees, even as it sucked me dry, but I was.
I never thought I’d meet someone who would love me.
But…fuck. I had.
That stopped me in my tracks like a fist to the gut, and I leaned against the brick wall of a building.
Felix loved me.
He knew me, and he loved me.
I hadn’t given my father or Rachel that chance because I’d never let them truly know me. I’d never given anyone that chance.
But Felix did.
And I loved him in a way that shattered me and held me together all at once.
* * *
—
When I got home, Felix was waiting for me on the couch. I told him about the conversation with Rachel, and he ran his hands up and down my upper arms in an unconscious caress. I could see his joy for me, and his concern. I could read everything he felt on his face and I cherished that about him.
As I finished telling him, I saw something else: Felix was proud of me.
It was something I’d always wanted. I just hadn’t known who I wanted it from.
It took me several moments to understand that the burning feeling in my eyes was tears. I’d forgotten what it felt like.
Felix pulled me close and stroked my back. He murmured inconsequential soothing things and let me cry. I pressed my forehead to his shoulder and concentrated on taking deep, even breaths.
“Felix,” I said. “Felix.”
Because I just wanted to say the name of the man I loved.
Chapter 18
Felix
I banged through Dane’s door around four, my hideous green work shirt smeared liberally with orange goo, streaks of coffee in my hair.
It had been a busy, messy, infuriating day at work, and through all of it, I’d calmed myself by concentrating on the moment two days before, when Dane had let himself cry in my arms, then let me hold him all night.
I’d felt glimpses of what it would be like for him to need me. When he’d shown up at my doorstep after a hard day; when he’d needed me to direct him during sex.
But this had felt like partnership.
He’d needed me to tell him that I loved him, that I was proud of him, that I was on his side.
It had finally felt like we were in this thing together.
Dane had woken with a voice like the bottom of a cave and seemed able to look everywhere but at me. Finally, I pounced on him, flattening his broad shoulders to the bed and forcing him to look at me. I dropped soft kisses to his face until he let out a shuddering breath and his arms came around me.
I’ve got you, I told him. It’s gonna be okay.
And I was determined that it would be. I’d make sure of it.
“Halloween is dead to me,” I announced dramatically to the apartment. “If I never see orange cream cheese again it will be too soon. Why on earth does anyone want that on their bagels?”
When I didn’t get an answer, I went into the bedroom where I found Dane, still wet from the shower.
I stripped off my clothes and threw them into the hamper, wishing it were an incinerator, then threw myself on the bed to watch him. Dane mostly naked wasn’t something I ever wanted to miss. His thick muscles gleamed with water and the planes of his stomach tensed as he twisted to dry himself off.
“Hi,” he said.
“Wait, you just showered,” I said. “But isn’t it time to go to the gym? Then the grocery store?”
It was Dane’s usual routine.
He shook his head, drying off more thoroughly than strictly necessary.
“How come? You not feeling well or something?”
He shook his head again.
“I’m sorry, baby. What’s wrong?”
“No—I meant, uh, I’m not sick.”
“What’s up?”
“Uh. Thought I’d acknowledge the essential lack of control I have over the universe by breaking my routine,” he said.
I cocked my head. He didn’t look upset or overloaded. He looked…okay.
“Ooookay?” I said. “Did you have something in mind, or should we just let the universe take us wherever it will?”
He carefully hung the towel on the hook outside the bathroom door and pulled on underwear and jeans. It was terribly sexy, the way he’d perform movements without talking, like he was inviting me to watch him without the distraction of words.
