Chapter 49
Chapter forty-nine
Jay
When I get back to my hotel room, my belly is full of takeout, and I’m beat from traveling so early this morning. I drop my keys on the desk, plug my phone in, and the screen lights up almost immediately with a notification.
Hudson
Dude, you need to tell Liv about California.
I stare at it for a beat, thumb hovering before I type back.
Jay
I will, when I’m home tomorrow. There’s still nothing to tell right now.
That much is true. Cole and Kate might’ve sounded enthusiastic today, but until something’s official, I can’t let myself run with it.
I’ve been here before, thinking I’m close, already seeing my name attached to something, only for the rug to get pulled out from under me. Hope is dangerous that way.
Still, I can’t help it. The interview felt good, and my gut is only giving positive feelings.
Bringing up Liv’s messages, I check to see if she’s replied to the one I sent earlier, and the second I do, the typing bubbles appear.
Liv
Hey, sorry I’ve been crazy busy today and I’m exhausted. I hope work was okay. Nick and I miss you xx
She sends a picture, curled on the couch in one of my old sweatshirts, the kitten sprawled across her chest. Her blue eyes are rimmed with tired shadows, but she’s still so beautiful it makes my chest ache.
I trace my thumb over her face on the screen like that could close the distance between us. God, I want to be there—her tucked against me, blanket pulled over both of us, the steady rhythm of her breathing sinking me deeper into her.
There’s no denying it anymore. I’ve fallen for her. Hell, I think I fell the second I saw her dancing barefoot in the rain that night—hair soaked, laughter spilling out of her like she didn’t care who heard. That moment’s burned into me. Every version of her since has just sealed it tighter.
Olivia Matthews isn’t just my roommate, she’s everything I didn’t know I needed. The exact kind of woman who sets me on fire while soothing me.
I send her a text back with hearts and an I miss you more, then throw my phone onto the bed and head for the shower. The water’s hot, but it keeps me grounded while my mind keeps drifting to her, to the interview, to what comes next if it actually happens.
I think about how easy it is with her. How she leaves me notes about how much she loves my cooking, how she always has to be touching me when we’re together, how she looks at me like I’m something permanent instead of a man constantly trying to prove he’s worth the space he takes up.
She already makes everything better, and that scares the hell out of me, because I’ve never wanted to need anyone before.
Heat billows around me as I press my palms against the tile, head bowed. I try to tell myself to stop, to breathe, to focus on what’s in front of me, the job, the possibilities—but she’s there, threaded through everything I want.
When I step back out, towel around my waist and head full of her, my phone’s buzzing loudly on the nightstand. I expect it to be Liv, or maybe Hudson again, but when I glance at the screen, my heart jolts.
Local area code.
“Hello?”
“Jay, hi, it’s Cole. Listen, Kate and I have been talking, and we want you on board. I wasn’t prepared to let you sleep through a night without knowing that.”
For a second, I think I misheard him. “Wait—what?”
“We want to make it official,” he repeats, amused. “You’ll start late January, early February, just before preseason. We’ll send over paperwork this week, but congratulations, man. You earned it.”
I sit down on the edge of the bed, towel still clinging to my hips, and drag a hand through my hair. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Say you’re in,” Cole chuckles.
“I’m in,” I breathe. My heart’s thudding so loud I can barely hear him over it. “I—thank you. Seriously. Thank you.”
“Go celebrate,” he says. “You’ve got a big few months ahead. You’re gonna be a part of our history now.”
When the call ends, I just stand there in the middle of the hotel room, phone still in hand, trying to catch up to what’s just happened.
It’s real.
I got it.
Relief and disbelief war in my chest because can this actually be real? I finally get what I’ve been chasing for months?
But then I think about her, and as much as this job feels like everything I’ve wanted, I can’t stop wondering if taking it means leaving behind something even bigger.
***
The flight is fast, a blur of bad coffee and restless legs. By the time I get to my car at the airport, I’m a mess, wired, exhausted, and running on pure adrenaline. My body is jittery with excitement but also with something else I can’t quite name.
Sleep completely evaded me after that phone call. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it all. California, the stadium lights, the work I’d get to do, the travel, the team. And Liv. Always Liv.
I spent half the night trying to figure out how to make everything fit.
How to take this dream without losing the one that’s already here.
The part of my brain that loves to fix things wouldn’t stop spinning scenarios—what it would look like if she came with me, if we made it work long distance, if I could somehow have both.
But beneath all that planning, a quieter truth kept whispering through the noise: I don’t want to imagine any version of my life that doesn’t have her in it.
By the time I hit the highway, the sun’s pushing through the fog, and my pulse hasn’t slowed. Every mile closer to home, the anticipation builds: how I’ll tell her, how she’ll light up, how maybe, for once, everything will feel like it’s falling into place. I have to believe it will.
When I finally pull into the driveway, the sky’s dimming into a golden dusk that makes everything feel calm. I grab my bag from the back seat and head inside, still buzzing with nerves and hope.
The second I open the door, warmth hits me. Not just from the heating, but something else—something rich and inviting, like spices and citrus and home. Candles flicker across the counters, light bouncing off the walls, and the table’s been set with actual plates, not our usual mismatched ones.
“Liv?” I call out.
She steps out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel, and for a second, I just look at her.
Hair twisted up, cheeks pink from the heat, eyes bright, and hot damn…
she looks… Fuck, I think I might be speechless.
Standing in front of me, she looks like a dream in a black minidress that glistens as she moves closer. My hands itch to touch her in it.
“You’re home,” she says, those blue eyes sparkling, and that alone undoes me a little.
“I am,” I say, still trying to find my voice. “And you… wow. You look incredible.”
She laughs quietly, the sound warm and easy, then closes the distance between us. Her arms loop around my neck, her body pressing close, and when she kisses me, everything in me goes still. It’s deep and familiar, her lips soft against mine, her taste pulling every ounce of tension out of my body.
When she finally pulls back, my forehead rests against hers. I breathe her in.
“You like the dress, then?”
“I like you in the dress, Liv. You’re stunning no matter what you wear.”
She hums and presses a chaste kiss to my lips again.
The faint scent of something that smells suspiciously like my favorite dish drifts toward us.
“What’s all this?” I ask, smiling.
Her lips curve. “Just a welcome home, and if you’re lucky, you’ll get the whole show after dinner,” she purrs seductively, and my dick thickens at the thought. Her hands run up my chest, tracking the movement. “You’ve been working so hard, I wanted to do something nice.”
It hits me then, how much she pays attention, how much she cares. I don’t know how to tell her what that does to me, how it feels to walk into a space that finally feels like mine because she’s in it.
“Liv, this is—”
She waves me off. “You can thank me by eating before it gets cold.”
“Deal,” I say, following her to the table, seeing everything laid out in Querida packaging. “You went to see Ana to get this for me?”
A flush lights up her face. “I did.”
The candlelight catches the faint line of her collarbone, her hair has come loose around her face, and that quiet certainty in my chest that’s been there since before I left makes my heart thump.
I want to tell her everything. About the job, how real it suddenly feels.
How every plan I’ve made in my head somehow still ends with her in it.
When she leans over the table, asking if I need anything else, I stop her and guide her to her chair.
“It’s perfect. Actually, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Her brows lift, curiosity lighting up her irises. “What’s up?”
“I, uh…” I exhale, wiping my palms on my jeans. “The trip, it wasn’t exactly for work. It was an interview, too.”
Her hand stills halfway to her glass. “An interview?”
“Yeah.” I huff a nervous laugh. “It was for a media position with a pro women’s rugby team.”
“In California?” Her voice rises, and the temperature in the room drops.
I nod. “I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure. It felt too soon to talk about, and honestly, I didn’t think I’d get it.”
The silence stretches long enough that the candle flicker fills the space between us.
Reality is, I knew it was a risk not telling her, but my pride couldn’t take another hit.
And if I’m honest, I didn’t want her looking at me like I was someone who couldn’t get it right.
Not when she’s the one person I want to impress.
“Jay, that’s amazing,” she says, but there’s a slight pinch to her brow. “You got it, then?” she asks, smiling, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. She lifts her glass, taking a long drink.
I nod. “They called last night. I’m still kind of in disbelief after how the year’s gone.”
Setting her drink down, her eyes drop to her plate. “Yeah, no, I know.”
I reach across the table, but she tucks her hair behind her ear, moving deliberately out of reach.