Chapter 17
Zoe
And this time I can’t blame Wesley. He sleeps in his travel crib beside us, arms thrown over his head with that loose, boneless peace only babies pull off.
My brain won’t shut up anyway.
Semifinal tomorrow. Against Portland. In their stadium, with twenty-two thousand people who hate us, against the team that knocked us out the last two years.
Jade starts. That’s already decided. And it’s probably right. She earned every minute this season while I rebuild my body piece by piece. I come off the bench later to organize play.
I get out of bed because lying here and running the same thoughts on a loop makes no sense. It’s torture. In this hotel, Hades lets me share a room with Tessa. “It’s for the kid,” she says. She even gets us a suite so we’re more comfortable.
I pull a bottle of water from the minibar even though I’m not thirsty. I drink it standing at the window, watching my reflection. Thirty. Almost thirty-one. Mom. Elite athlete trying to be elite again. A woman in love with someone who already wrecked her once.
“You should be sleeping,” Tessa says behind me.
“You too.”
“I know.” Her voice stays low. “But I’m not playing tomorrow. You are.” She slips her arms around me from behind and kisses my neck.
I turn inside her embrace. She wears one of my old T-shirts, too big on her, the collar sagging off one shoulder so I can see her collarbone. No makeup. No armor. The version of Tessa only I get. The one I like most.
“I can’t sleep,” I admit, letting out a long breath.
“Come here,” she says, taking my hand and leading me to the couch.
She curls into the corner by the armrest, knees bent, and pulls me down until my head rests between her thighs like they’re a pillow.
“Are you nervous?” she asks, combing my hair with her fingers.
“No.” I swallow. “I’m terrified.”
“About the game?” She snorts softly. “Zoe, you play World Cups. Olympics.”
“It’s not only the game,” I rush out, words tangling. “It’s what happens after.”
Her hand slows. She brushes the back of her knuckles over my cheek.
“What happens after? If you win, you play the final at home.”
“You know what I mean.” I stare toward the window, the city lights blurred by rain.
“My contract ends in a month and I hear nothing from the club.” My throat tightens.
“Tess, what if they don’t renew me? What if Hades already decided Jade Herrera is the future and I’m the past. I don’t know where I’ll play next year and you’ll still be head of medical here. We could be thousands of miles apart.”
“Zoe…”
“Don’t minimize it.” My voice sharpens because fear makes me mean.
“It’s true. And if I have to move to a new city, Nate uses it against me.
He says I do it to keep him from seeing the kid.
He says my career is unstable, that I’ll spend my last years bouncing from team to team, dragging Wesley across the country. And—”
“Zoe. Stop.” Tessa sits up and wraps her arms around me, firm. “That’s not going to happen.”
“I can’t lose you again,” I say, and my voice breaks on again like it’s a bruise. “But I don’t know how to promise you it won’t when I don’t even control my own life.”
“If it happens. If they don’t renew you.” Tessa’s eyes don’t blink. “I go with you. Wherever. If we have to change cities every year, we do it.”
“Would you really do that?”
“I turned down an offer from New York,” she says, like she’s telling me the weather. “I didn't even mention it because I knew the answer the second it came in.”
“Tess… your career. That’s your dream. You always want—”
“Now I want something else,” she says, then kisses my forehead. “My dream is you. And Wesley. Waking up next to you. Falling asleep listening to your snoring.”
“Go to hell, idiot,” I say, and I can’t help the laugh that slips out. “I don’t snore.”
“Seriously, Zoe.” Her voice turns steady again. “Seven years ago I chose the job over everything. I climbed fast, I made a name in sports medicine at thirty-two, but I’m not happy.” She cups my face. “Now I am. With you. And I’m not trading it for anything.”
“Tessa…” I sigh and kiss her thigh.
“If the team doesn’t renew you, if you end up playing in another city, then we figure it out,” she says. “I do what I have to do. But I’m not choosing my career over you and Wes. You can be sure of that.”
I can’t find words, so I do what my body asks. I lift myself up, straddle her legs, thread my hands into her hair, and kiss her.
The sound that leaves her throat hums against my mouth, soft and addictive. I sink into her warmth while her fingers clamp my waist, anchoring me to her. The next kiss slows down, thick like honey. In the dark, our broken breathing and the occasional sharp inhale are the only sounds in the room.
Her hands slide along my sides, thumbs drawing small circles. I slip my hands under her shirt and trace her skin with my fingertips. The smooth line of her ribs. The curve of her hip.
She moans when my tongue touches her neck. I graze my teeth along the delicate skin under her chin, then soften it with my tongue until her breath catches and turns into a sigh that fills the space.
In the dim light, everything becomes urgent and tender at the same time. Tessa presses her forehead to my shoulder, panting softly while I find her breasts. The oversized shirt falls to the floor without a fight, and my tongue circles her nipples until her thighs tighten.
She lets out a long, low sound, hands sliding to my ass to pull me closer, shivering under my mouth.
Slowly, I move down, kissing her breasts while her fingers knot in my hair. Then I keep going to her stomach, cover her belly button with kisses as she tenses.
I kneel between her legs, spread them, and push her underwear aside. I close my eyes when I inhale, and when I open them her slick heat glistens with want.
Tess gives in completely, tugs my hair without holding back, pushing my head where she needs it. I blow against her clit, smile when she makes a small sound, then kiss it.
I take my time, sliding my tongue between her folds, adding small bites to the inside of her thighs, then kisses that raise goosebumps.
She arches, begging through harder breaths until she has to clamp a hand over her mouth, biting her index finger while her other hand stays locked in my hair.
Time disappears. Space disappears. There’s only the sounds we share, the tension that snaps and keeps snapping. I feel her come apart under my mouth, hear a broken sob of pleasure that makes me smile against her.
When she finds her breath again, she pulls me up and sits me back on her thighs so she can kiss me, tasting herself on my lips.
Her fingers trail down my back to my ass. Then her right hand slips between us, under my pajama pants, finding how wet I am before she presses two fingers inside me. I ride them, hands around her neck, hissing her name until control slips through my fingers.
Pleasure hits in waves. I don’t have thoughts anymore. Only muffled sounds, ripped breaths, the tremble of my hips as I clench around her.
“You’re going to ruin me,” I whisper.
Maybe that’s the plan, because she sinks back into the couch and guides me until I’m over her, our legs tangling until my heat presses against hers.
I roll my eyes at her satisfied look, but then we find the rhythm together, hips moving in perfect sync, wet friction building until it turns sharp and unbearable.
She scratches my back. Her legs shake. Heat rises inside me and breaks like a wave hitting rock.
Tessa follows not long after, pushing and sliding against me, sweat gleaming on her skin until every grind is a wordless plea, a silent scream she tries to swallow.
I collapse on top of her. I stroke her chest, feel the frantic beat of her heart, and an “I love you” slips from her mouth so quiet I almost miss it.