Chapter 33
Josephine
Kylian’s in no rush tonight. Unlike after the last handful of games, he lingers on the sideline to talk to some of the assistant coaches and interns before weaving his fingers with mine and guiding me toward the locker rooms at a leisurely pace.
“We’re going to take the boat back to the house as a unit, if that’s okay with you.”
Now the delay makes sense.
My heart clenches in appreciation. All of us, together… as a unit. We have a lot to figure out as that unit. But we’re off to a pretty damn good start. Nodding, I lift our joined hands to my lips and kiss his knuckles.
“Thank you,” I murmur, cuddling into his side when we come to stop outside the locker room to wait for the other guys.
He wraps his arms around me, holding me close enough that I can smell the citrusy eucalypts scent of his body wash. Inhaling, I allow myself to sink into the moment. To bask in the security of being in his arms. To honor the care, and maybe even love, I share with this man.
He kisses the top of my head, then keeps his face buried in my hair. When he pulls in a breath, then lets out a long, satisfied sigh, it dawns on me. Maybe I’m becoming a safe place for Kylian, too.
He puts on a front a lot of the time—mentally steeling himself to be in a crowd or garnering all the fortitude he can muster to be “on” and focused even when surrounded by the sensory overload that happens on and around that field.
It takes him hours, sometimes even a full day, to recover from a game.
If there’s any way I can bring him peace, I want to do that for him.
We stand like that for what feels like ages, just holding each other while we block out the rest of the world.
People move around us. Minutes tick by. His steady heart beats against his ribs, syncing with my breath.
No matter the place, the setting, or our surroundings, this man settles me.
He is the very definition of safe—a physical and mental dwelling where I can just be.
It should scare me how much his arms feel like home.
But from the beginning, there’s been a natural reciprocity to the way we lean on and care for each other.
If my home is inside him, I’ll do whatever I can to be that safe place for him in return.
We’re two of only a handful of people still waiting when Kendrick’s voice echoes down the long hallway that leads to the locker room.
“Will you come up to the Nest with me tonight?” Kylian whispers, his voice nothing but a rasp.
He’s always bone-tired after a game. Mentally spent.
Physically exhausted. Masking does that to him—mimicking social cues and presenting himself a certain way with the coaches and players, while also tuning out the sensory overload that is all things college football in the South.
He’s burned out, exhausted, and often agitated after a game.
As much as I crave his proximity, he doesn’t sleep well when he’s not alone.
“You need sleep,” I remind him with a gentle squeeze around his torso.
“I need you, Jo.”
Pulling back, I regard him for a moment, taking in his bloodshot eyes and the lines on his face, then nuzzle into his chest again and nod.
Tonight’s party is sure to be chaos, given that it’s Shore Week and the Crusaders won by the very skin of their teeth.
I wouldn’t mind a few hours of quiet to hide away from the world myself.
“I’ll come up until you fall asleep,” I compromise.
“Then you’ll come back up in the morning and let me eat your pussy for breakfast.”
I crane back in his arms and laugh, only to smack my hand over my mouth when I register the seriousness in his gaze.
“Is there something funny about me wanting to start my day with my head buried between your thighs?”
“No,” I squeak, warmth tingling through my core at the prospect of what he’s promising.
“No, what?”
I bite down on my bottom lip and give him a coy smile.
“No, Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs, lowering his head to whisper directly into my ear. “Don’t you dare come up to the Nest wearing his jersey. You and I both know exactly who you belong to when you crawl into my bed.”
A breathy whimper escapes me. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good fucking girl.” Kylian weaves his hand into the hair at my nape, tilting my head back and kissing me. “You did so good tonight, baby. You did so good for Decker and this team. Good girls deserve all the rewards.”
I’m so wrapped up in his words that I startle when Locke wraps his arms around me from behind.
“Hot Girl,” Locke murmurs, kissing my neck, even while my mouth is still inches from his best friend’s. “Sit with me on the boat?”
I nod like a bobblehead, basking in their combined affection, at their willingness and eagerness to comply with almost any request. The sentiment is only compounded as I catch sight of Decker and Kendrick making their way over to us, ready to head home.
As a unit.