Chapter 13
The question of when I should propose plays on my mind while I make breakfast. It plagues my thoughts as I practice with Maggie. I hit more faults than I ever have, each serve making me more distracted than the last. What if she says no?
That last question draws me up short and I miss the moment Maggie hits the ball back to me. It hits me square in the stomach and if it wasn’t for her impressive forehand, I probably would be fine. Instead, I bend in half, gasping for breath and wishing I was dead.
“Rowan, holy shit,” she says, running over to me. I’m still doubled over in pain, breathing through my nose and clutching the spot that I’m sure is going to leave a nasty bruise.
“I’m okay,” I grunt out, standing up straighter and trying to stretch away from the pain. Except that causes more pain. Fuck, my girl has quite a powerful swing.
“You’re clearly not. I’m so sorry,” she says, eyes wide and pleading.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I say, looking around to make sure no one is watching. I cup her cheek with my free hand, letting my thumb stroke along her cheekbone.
Maggie’s eyes are glassy as she steps closer to me and tucks her face in my neck. “I didn’t mean to hit you, I—”
“I know, honey. It’s my own fault, I wasn’t paying attention,” I say, letting the pet name slip. She doesn’t chastise me for using it in public and I hug her tight.
“Is everything okay?” she murmurs quietly against my skin and I stiffen. I don’t know how long I can keep my secrets from her.
“Of course,” I say cheerfully. Maggie pulls away and frowns at me. Shit, she’s not buying it.
“It’s just that you’ve been acting weird ever since we got back from Melbourne, and you went to Charleston without me, and, I don’t know,” she says, running a hand down her face in frustration. “I thought we didn’t have any secrets between us.”
I swallow hard and hang my head. I hate this. “We don’t. I’ve just had a lot on my mind and my mom had an issue with her roof, so I wanted to be there for the repairs,” I say, hating how bitter the lie tastes on my tongue.
Her shoulders drop and her sad eyes roam over my face. “Sure. I think I’m going to go shower before we have to meet my family for brunch,” she says, turning away, not looking at me.
“Mags, wait,” I say, grabbing her wrist. She looks up at me with glassy eyes and even though we’re not supposed to kiss in public, per our agreement, I lean in anyway. She can tell me to stop, she can push me away.
For what feels like the first time in a long time, she doesn’t. That small act lifts the pressure off my chest and gives me the courage to close the gap between us.
My lips meet hers in a gentle but pressing kiss, and I try to convey everything I’ve been feeling the past couple of weeks.
She opens up for me, our tongues swirling, our bodies pressing everywhere.
I love that we’re practically the same height and I don’t have to bend down to kiss her.
I love that I can wrap my arms around her and feel like I’m home.
She pulls back slowly and blinks at me in a daze. “What was that for?”
“I’m sorry I’ve been weird recently. There’s a lot on my mind that I want to tell you, but I want to find the right time. Let’s get through brunch first, okay?” I smile, tucking a blonde strand of hair behind her ear.
Her blue eyes focus on my lips and she slowly nods. “Okay, Ro. I’ll try to be patient.” She smirks. I smile back and steal another kiss from her before I run off the court and head to the men’s locker to shower.
With each step, I’m more confident about asking her the big question. I just need to find the right time.