Chapter 48 Adrian
ADRIAN
“Stop snooping,” Sonya says, watching me go through her books. She’s crossing and uncrossing her arms, and then biting the edge of her fingernail like she’s nervous that I’m here.
Something tugs at my chest, because fuck. That’s how I feel. Like a bag of shaken-up nerves.
The last time we were together, we kissed. My life tilted on its axis. Then she ran away, and I’ve missed her like hell since.
“I can’t help myself, darling.” I’m forcing a teasing smile. “I want to know everything about you.”
It’s true. I’m memorizing the titles that she’s got earmarked, so I can buy them later to read. And then I stick my nose in one and inhale that nice old paper smell.
“Such a weirdo,” she grumbles, but with a buried thread of affection.
I swear I hear it, and it makes me hope.
“Are you telling me no one else sniffs your books? I, for one, am aghast.”
“Aghast, really?” Her shoulders drop as her arms settle, and she stops moving them around so much. “And no, that never happens. Because I don’t have guests over.”
“Not even Kavi or Quinn?” Or other guys?
“Nope. I meet them at their places or we go out.”
I’m grinning, ear-to-ear. But also I’m looking around, so my reaction isn’t so obvious.
There’s a small step down from the living room to the dining table, otherwise nothing else separates the two spaces.
Her kitchen is further back, hidden and painted a super dark blue.
There’s soft light coming from a window with this dangly black stained glass rose hanging from its ledge.
Most of her stuff is dark or textural, but also cozy.
I see a lampshade made of fringe, black-and-white checkered pillows, crimson red knobs on drawers, and lots of books on shelves.
This is her private sanctuary.
But she’s allowed me inside.
I’m so honored, I could turn into a puddle. Or go down on my knees again. But fuck, maybe that’s one of the reasons she freaked out in Oslo, so I resist the urge to do it again.
This matters so much. I can’t screw it up. I have to prove how much her trust means to me.
That’s why on the ride here, I read Team Nutcracker’s report.
Most of it I understand. As a top-performing athlete, I’m no stranger to working on the psychological as much as physical.
When I became captain, one of the first things I did was meet with the sports psychologist. We spent five hours discussing what leadership means to me.
Knowing Sonya, she’s not used to it. She’s struggling with those recommendations. I’m going to help her with that.
Turning away from her bookcase to face her, I say, “Hey. Thanks for inviting me.”
From the corner of her apartment comes a hiss.
“And for having Diana over, too,” I add. “When I came home from the trip, she was mad at me for leaving, and with all the training I’ve been doing with the team, I don’t want her to think I’m abandoning her.”
“But is she okay?” wonders Sonya, eyeing the spot under her table that my cat has claimed, hoarding toys and food with her.
“Yeah.” I smile. “She hates being anywhere new for about an hour before she gets comfortable enough to explore it.” I sigh. “But trust me, she gets even madder when I leave her behind.”
I go over to pet my sweet, adorable, cantankerous, high-maintenance cat, then get up and take out my phone. “I don’t know if you’ve had dinner, Sonya, but I can order us some food.”
“No. I…made food.”
I stare at her. She shifts weight from one foot to another, not making eye contact with me.
“You made dinner for me,” I repeat.
“Yeah. I have extra. You can help me eat the extra. No big deal.”
My chest flutters. “Did you cook before or after you knew I was coming over?”
Sonya scowls and points to her couch. “Sit. Or I won’t bring the pasta out.”
“Pasta?!” I gush.
“Boxed pasta.” Her voice echoes. She’s already gone, rooting around in her kitchen. “Nothing fancy. Not all of us have pro-chef cooking abilities, so don’t be disappointed if it’s barely edible.”
“I’ll eat absolutely anything you make me.
You have an open invitation to put anything in my mouth,” I promise, grinning as I take a seat on her couch.
Immediately, my body sags against the cushions.
As an athlete, my body sometimes feels like one big bruise.
But being here right now? It’s so comfortable and cozy.
Everything that usually crowds my brain has started to fade, like the deadline the GM is hanging over my head, how the players I trained with today are the most vulnerable ones to being traded, and that the Wings badly need to win again.
I’m humming to myself. The invisible knots of tension in my body are releasing. I want to savor being with Sonya tonight. There’s so much to learn about her.
Like, is that a black skateboard in the corner?
Does she ride? We could ride together, because it can’t be that different from skating?
If I can balance on ice, I can balance on four wheels.
Even if my contract might not allow it, I’ll find a way to skateboard.
We could have adorable skateboard dates on a seawall. How could she say no to that?
Her plants seem happy. Something smells like tea…I didn’t know she liked tea, but now, I’ll buy her some. A fifty-pack of different tea. Is that enough? A hundred. Two hundred.
This is nice…and I really like her walls. Could navy be her second favorite color after black…?
Fuck. Wait.
My eyes are drooping.
Why?
It makes no sense.
This past year, my body has been so overstimulated with worry that I’ve learned to function without regular sleep. Most nights, I lay in bed and fight to get a small bit of rest.
So why, just as I’m about to ask Sonya whether she needs any help, do I clock out and fall into a deep sleep?
Some awareness slowly dawns on me.
I don’t know where I am, but it must be the best place in the world. I’m floating, caught in this incredible carefree feeling.
Half-conscious, I think that whatever is happening I don’t want it to stop. I’m super comfortable and lying down on my side.
My eyes are shut and—
My shoulders jerk. Wait.
My head is not on a pillow.
It’s on a lap.
There’s a voice talking out loud.
“He keeps moving in his sleep.”
Everything hits me all at once. It’s Sonya. I’m in her apartment. So my head must be on her lap.
“He’s so restless,” she complains, swearing softly.
Should I tell her I’m awake?
I don’t know, but I stop wondering immediately.
Because fingers are threading through my hair, stroking it softly.
Fuck. Me.
I bite back a moan. My eyes stay clamped shut, and I try not to move an inch, even though it’s so damn hard to stay still. Pure wonder and joy radiate out of my every pore.
“Meow.”
That’s Diana.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got another hand to pet you,” says Sonya, shifting a little.
She’s on the couch, too? And my ballerina is going to pet my territorial, antisocial cat? Visions of slashing claws hit me all at once. I’m about to leap into protective action, when I hear the strangest sound.
A long, continuous, vibrating purr.
“You’ll wake him up if you get any louder,” Sonya chides.
“Meow.”
“You know, I must say I like this secret pact of ours. Pretend we hate each other in front of him, but bond behind his back.”
Sonya hums.
“Have you had enough food? Do you need anything else? Water? Just let me know, okay?”
I have no words. I’m melting in her lap. Because my cat and Sonya are friends?!
“I bet he feeds you fancy, super expensive kibble.”
I do.
“You think he’ll like my pasta?”
I want to scream yes! That I’ll blindly swallow anything she wants me to eat, and write sonnets about how it’s the best food I’ve ever had. Each and every time. I’m not joking. It doesn’t matter how it tastes, because it’s already fucking wonderful since she made it for me.
“He’s pushing himself too hard. I’m not surprised he passed out.”
Diana purrs again.
“You know what he needs?”
You, Sonya darling. I need you.
“Someone to coerce him into taking breaks. And yeah, that makes me a hypocrite because if I was given the same advice for myself, I’d bite the person’s head off…” A long pause. “But when I see him do the same thing, it annoys me. Like a lot. I want to shake him and tell him to slow down…”
She sighs.
“Because it’s obvious he needs to take care of himself better. To stop putting everyone else’s needs above his own. That it’s not a competition of who has the better heart,” she mumbles. “But if it was, he’d win.”
She waits a beat.
“I wouldn’t exactly admit that to him, but I’ll tell you, Diana. Your dad’s heart is too squishy.”
“Meow.”
“Good thing he has you. You’re more than a bit ruthless, aren’t you? That’s why we get along so well.”
Sonya sighs. “I should probably stop messing up his hair.”
Please don’t.
“Meow.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t stop petting you. But Adrian—doing this—I should stop. Soon.” Her tone goes wistful. “I thought he was having a nightmare. That’s why I’m doing this. And now I can’t seem to get up again, even though I can’t imagine what he’d say if he saw this.”
I would tell her that my heart is so full, it’s in danger of bursting. This is everything I’ve ever wanted for so long. I want to tell her how I really feel, but I’m terrified.
Because if she decides she doesn’t want me, I don’t think I’ll survive it. It’s going to rip my life to pieces. The hole she’ll leave behind won’t ever close.
But if she wants to take a chance on me? If she can imagine being with me? I’ll do everything in my power to keep her happy.
Because I’m in love with her.
I think I’ve loved her for a while, but I didn’t put a name to these feelings, thinking they would go away or fade. That I’ve never stopped thinking of her, always and without reason.
How I can imagine a million evenings exactly like this one, and if this is how our life is, the three of us on a couch together, I’m the luckiest man in this world.