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I get my tea kettle and fill it with hot water. Tea is supposed to be soothing, right? Plus, making tea will keep my hands busy.
I set it on the stove and turn on the heat.
“Yes. Cam knows I’m here,” he explains patiently. “I got clearance from the team to travel. Since it’s our bye week, everyone has the week off.”
“Oh…uh…that’s good. They must not be very worried about you if they let you travel.”
“It was a mild concussion. No headache. No other symptoms. I’m going to be fine.” He moves slowly in my direction. The size of my apartment is not working in my favor. Or maybe it is. He’s only a few steps away when he stops.
“You were unconscious. You should be resting.” I try to sound stern.
“I wasn’t unconscious.”
“You weren’t?”
“Nope. I had the wind knocked out of me. And I strained some of the muscles in my neck. I wasn’t moving because the pain was insane…but only for a minute.”
“Oh…well…it looked bad. Very bad.” I swallow and repeat, “You should be resting.”
“I rested for half the day. Riding on a plane is not strenuous.”
“True. That’s true.” The kettle starts whistling. I shut off the burner and then almost knock over the jar holding my favorite loose-leaf tea. “Would you like some tea?”
“Stop moving,” he says.
I can’t. If I stop moving, I’m going to leap into his arms. My weight will probably cause him to topple over. He’ll get another concussion and the second one is always worse than the first, so it’ll be my fault if he can’t play for weeks.
When I don’t stop, he takes two steps forward and envelopes me in a massive breath-snatching hug. All I can do is cling to him. His warmth. His scent. His strength. The lust and angst hit me square in the chest, just as I knew they would. I thought I’d never experience this again, and I can’t help soaking it in.
His breath is ragged as he presses his lips to my forehead. “I missed you.”
Those words, spoken softly, might be the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard. They feel real in a way they didn’t last night.
“I missed you, too,” I whisper.
He holds me tight. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were a distraction.”
“I know.” It wasn’t only his fault. He had no way of knowing I felt that way. I barely knew it myself.
“You aren’t a distraction. You never were.”
His hands splay across my back. I wish we were wearing fewer clothes. I’m tempted to strip off his shirt, but if I take off his shirt, I won’t stop there—I won’t be able to. So I weave my hands around his neck and run my fingers through his shaggy hair. “Football means so much to you. I want you to succeed?—”
He presses his lips to my forehead. “Football does mean a lot to me. But so do you. I took you for granted. It wasn’t intentional and I won’t do it again. There will be times when I’m busy, and times when I don’t see you as much as I want to. There’s a whole country between us, and that’s going to make it hard, but there has to be a way. We can figure it out.”
“You think so?” I need reassurance.
The distance doesn’t scare me. I don’t love being so far apart, but I can handle it. What I can’t handle is worrying that being with me isn’t what’s best for him. How do I overcome that?
“We’ll make it so.” He pulls back far enough that I can see his face. “Elle, I love you. I’m going to tell you every day until you believe it. I’m sorry it took me so long to admit it, but it’s taken me weeks to work up the courage. I’m not afraid to love you, but I’m afraid that I’ll mess up, or I’ll miss that you’re unhappy.”
My eyes feel like saucers. “You love me?”
“I love you.”
“Oh my gosh. I love you, too.” There are so many thoughts in my head, but I can’t figure out which one I want to say out loud, so instead I blurt, “Kelsey showed me your new cologne ad. That picture is obscene.”
He huffs against my forehead. “Wait until you see the commercial.”
