Chapter 21
KNOX
“Give me a few more reps,” my new physical therapist, Joe, urges me.
I grit my teeth and stretch the band to do some lateral stretches. I scoffed when I first saw the resistance bands I’d be using for today’s session, but I’m definitely not laughing about it now. Since the game two days ago I’ve barely moved my arm, and now it’s stiff.
I’ve decided that Joe is the devil. He pushes me to keep going, and by the time I let go of the band, my hand has gone numb.
I wish the same was true for the rest of my arm.
Every breath I take sends searing pain through my shoulder to the point I find myself growing lightheaded because I’m holding my breath.
Spots float in my vision. It’s going to be a harder fight to finish this season than I thought.
The sound of metal squeaks across the wood floor. I feel the back of a chair press against the back of my legs. “Sit down before you pass out,” Joe orders me.
I drop into the chair, the metal groans under my weight. Joe crouches down in front of me so he can look me in the eyes. “Okay, you’re done.”
In his hand is the bottle of pills Dr. Frost usually carries around. My leg starts to bounce in anticipation, knowing that I’m minutes away from the pain pulling its claws from my flesh. He shakes out one pill into my hand.
“Can you give me two? One doesn’t cut the pain because of my size.”
He looks at me contemplatively, but after a couple of seconds he goes ahead and shakes another pill into my hand. The truth is, even two won’t do it, but I know asking for anymore is going to raise red flags.
It isn’t like I want to get high. I just want to breathe without hot pain searing through my shoulder.
The escape from everything else is a nice bonus though.
My strained relationship with my parents, the breakdown with Madison, and my guilt over how things started with Sloane dissolves with the pills.
The sharp edges of life soften and the pain starts to recede. My mind swirls in a pleasant fog as Joe guides me into the back of my car. I lay my head back while my driver, Patrick, navigates the streets of Portland.
“Any plans tonight, sir?” he asks. I can see a look of concern on his face.
I guess two pills worked better than I expected. The last thing I want is to put the same look of concern on Sloane’s face, so I make an effort to pull myself together.
“No plans,” I finally answer him.
His mouth turns down, which makes me consider the night I had been planning.
It involved making dinner with Sloane, a rematch with Xander on his game, and a movie with Sloane after he went to bed.
Going over it in my head it sounds pretty dull.
Probably painfully dull for a twenty-one year old woman.
“I can see you have an opinion, so let me have it,” I tell him after a minute.
“Well, sir,” he hedges. “It’s Friday night, you have a beautiful girlfriend, why not take her out to dinner?”
“I’m supposed to be recovering, not going out on the town,” I remind him.
He looks back up at me in the rearview mirror. “I’m not saying go bowling or dancing. Even rehabbing you’ve got to eat.”
His eyes flick down to where my arm rests in the sling Joe forced on me. “You wear that out and no one is going to question why you’re not on the ice.”
“The other problem is I’m not supposed to be dating my publicist. There’s a no fraternization policy, and Sawyer will have my balls if she gets proof that we’re together.”
He nods. “So don’t be all over her. It isn’t weird for coworkers to go out to dinner if they’re the only ones in town.”
Could I be near her without touching her? If that night we snuck away at the club is any indication, it’s getting more difficult if not impossible.
Maybe it’s the painkillers, but the reasons that should worry me seem insignificant compared to making Sloane smile.
I decide right then that I’m going to take her out to dinner.
Before I can sober up more and lose my nerve, I call my favorite Italian restaurant, and make a reservation for later tonight.
I send a quick text to Sloane,
Get dressed up, baby girl, I’m taking you out tonight.
I know she won’t argue. I might be softening toward her, but that doesn’t mean our entire dynamic is suddenly different. Tonight, though, I’m going to do my best to be the man she deserves, even if I have to become someone else to give her that.
Cucina Rossi is a hidden gem in Portland.
It’s upscale and exclusive without being snobby.
It has a homey atmosphere with warm terracotta colored walls, ceramic accents, aged wood tables, soft lighting, and copper fixtures.
Despite its popularity with the local celebrities, it isn’t the type of place one goes to be seen, the opposite, in fact.
It’s where someone like me can go to have a good meal in peace without being hounded for autographs, or being photographed.
In spite of the fog created by the painkillers, I had enough foresight to remember that Sloane and I aren’t supposed to be dating.
My inhibitions are low enough that I don’t care enough not to take her out, but at least I’m making an effort to cut down on the damage control she’s going to need to do afterwards.
The hostess greets us warmly when I lead Sloane inside, and shows us to a table in the corner where we’ll have more privacy. From here, we can see the entire floor, which makes me feel better since we’ll be able to see if anyone is paying too close attention to us.
I brazenly take Sloane’s hand, and follow after the hostess. Once we’re alone I turn Sloane to face me. “You take my breath away, baby girl. This silver dress is killing me.”
Kendall and Delaney took Sloane shopping before the first away game she joined us on so that she would be ready to fill her new social media role for the team. I would thank them if it wouldn’t give me away. The satiny silver number she’s wearing makes her dove gray eyes seem to glow.
I pull out her chair and she sits down. After she’s placed the cloth napkin in her lap she brings those haunting eyes up to meet mine. “You’re being weird.”
“I’m trying to be nice and give you a romantic date,” I grumble, feeling dejected.
Her tongue swipes over her lower lip. “That’s the thing. Why? You’ve already got me. It isn’t like I can turn you down.”
This isn’t going the way I pictured in my head. “I don’t want to force you to be with me anymore. In a short time your internship is going to be over, and I don’t want us to be done along with it. I know I fucked up in the beginning, but I’m trying to make it so that you want to stay.”
She blinks and spends a painfully long few seconds studying me. “I do want to be with you. I’m still a little freaked out since you declared you wanted to get me pregnant so I’d stay. I have to say, I much prefer this route instead.”
I cringe. I’d hoped that was a dream, and not something I’d actually said. “I’m really sorry about that. I was out of it. I would never do something like that to trap you into staying with me. I do want kids, but I understand that you are young and not ready.”
“It isn’t just that. I’ve been raising Xander for so long, I just want some time to see who I am on my own.”
“Completely on your own?” My voice trembles as I force the words out.
She shakes her head. “No, just not as someone’s mother or—”
“Wife?” I ask.
She nods.
It’s not until that moment that I realize how far ahead I’ve let my mind wander about us. But, does it matter as long as she’s still with me?
“Is that a forever thing, or just until you’re ready?” I ask. This conversation is taking a weird turn, but our entire relationship is ass backwards thanks to the way I pushed her into being with me.
“Not forever. I want all of it. The big wedding, a couple of kids, but someday after I’ve traveled and grown into the woman I’m supposed to be.
In a lot of ways I feel so much older than twenty-one, but in others I know I’ve got a lot of life I haven’t experienced yet.
I want to feel the ground under my feet before I take that step,” she explains.
“Do you see any room for me while you find yourself?” I hate asking the question, but it’s damn time I start giving her a choice. Her being with me doesn’t mean shit if she doesn’t actually want it.
A shy smile curves her lips. “I feel like I’ve learned more about who I really am since I’ve been with you than I’ve had a chance to discover over the last seven years.
I don’t know everything about what the future is going to look like, but I want you there.
At least I do when you’re not being weird. ”
My mouth falls open. “I’m being weird? All I’m doing is trying to give you some romance.”
“That’s the thing. The last week or so you’ve been different. Why does everything have to change between us simply because now you care about me?”
I scoff. “Isn’t that enough? I more than care about you by the way. I’m not ready to use that word, and I don’t think you’re ready to hear it anyway, but I know I’m falling for you. I want you to feel that. Treating you like a possession doesn’t seem like the way to express that to you.”
Sloane starts to open her mouth, but our waiter chooses this moment to come over to take our drink order. I defer to her. I know better than to mix alcohol with the meds I took earlier, so I plan on drinking water, but I won’t deny her wine if she wants it.
“I’d like a sparkling water,” she orders. Smiling at her, I order the same.
Once he’s gone she returns to our conversation. “I liked the way you treated me. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but no one has ever been so crazy over me like you were.”
Before I realize it, I hear myself growl. “No one better think of you like that. You’re mine.”
She smiles wide, like I’ve just handed her a prize. “That’s better.”
“You want me to order you around, demand you suck my cock when I can’t take another moment not feeling those thick lips around me?
You want me to use your body like my personal toy?
I’m trying to show you that I care about you more than keeping you as some kind of fuck doll.
” Even if I still want those things, I want her even more. Can’t she see that?
“I know maybe the first time we were together it was more about your ex than feeling something for me, but are you saying that you didn’t start developing feelings for me any of the times you ‘used me’ as you call it? Not even when we snuck off at the nightclub?” she asks.
I can feel my forehead crease. This is not where I saw this conversation going.
We were supposed to maybe confess having deeper feelings, stare into each other’s eyes, and I don’t know, maybe skip off into the night holding hands.
We were not supposed to be talking about how much I like to dominate her, and it certainly isn’t supposed to be making me want to find a dark corner to do it again.
“Of course I started feeling things for you. I think I even did that first time. There’s something about you that calls to me.
You’re fragile, and yet strong. But that vulnerability calls to me in a way that makes me want to build stone walls around you and make sure nothing ever hurts you again.
It also makes me want to keep you locked away so no one else ever gets a chance to take you from me.
You turn me into a beast when I’ve tried so hard to be a good man that my family expects me to be. ”
“I don’t want who other people expect you to be. I think I want the beast anyway, because Prince Charming is boring.”
I hope she knows what she’s unleashing in me. Hearing her accept this side of me I’ve tried so hard, for years, to suppress is my undoing. I’m still not ready to say those three words, but I know now without a doubt that I’m in love with this woman.