Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Blair
I’m in love with you.
Tyson just said that. Did I hear that right?
If I wasn’t sitting down, I’d probably be falling over at this point. The flush of confusion and excitement rushes over my face and I can no longer hide it. Wouldn’t matter because I’m sitting here with my jaw practically on the floor at this point.
Tyson loves me.
To ensure my mind isn’t playing tricks on me, in some sort of orgasm coma, I ask, “You love me?”
“One thousand percent.” He nods as if I asked if he needed water on a sweltering summer day. Not a single second of hesitation, his eyes bright and clear—just like his answer.
Warmth spreads through my chest, soothing the stress, the questions needing answers. The sound of the flames on the logs is the only thing between us.
“And I don’t want anyone else. I tried. But even just as friends, no one else measured up.”
His confession tickles something in my brain.
Tyson never really dated. Sometimes we’d go out together, where our casual partners may or may not have met up with us.
But there’s never been someone else with him at Thanksgiving.
Or other major life events. It’s always been me and him.
Part of me did wonder about the day he would call, tell me he met someone and he’d like to bring her home for the holidays.
It felt like that day was always coming, looming in the background, but maybe it didn’t have to.
“What are you thinking?” Tyson asks, picking up my hand and placing a soft kiss on the inside of my wrist. His words are soft, like I could fall into him.
“You never brought anyone else home. I sort of waited for the day you’d call, tell me about the woman of your dreams, and what that would mean.
” Pausing, I look at our hands, as Tyson rubs circles on the inside of my palm with his thumb.
“I don’t want to share you, Tyson. The thought makes my skin hurt. ”
“The woman of my dreams? It’s you.” He grins and the joy reaches his eyes, skin crinkling around them.
The weight of this circles me, pressing in from all directions. “I can’t lose you. There’s a handful of people in my life who are steady, a key part, and you’re one of them.”
“I promise, you could never lose me.” He reaches for my other hand and pulls me closer to him. “I know this is complicated and it’s not only my decision to make. And we have time. It’s not like we have to rush it.”
He means it. Only Tyson would confess his love for me and expect nothing in return.
Selfless to a fault, in a way that’s always made me love him the way I do.
Honestly, I don’t feel the pressure to make a choice.
Because there’s only one answer. We’ve been dancing around this for a decade and I don’t want to waste any more time.
No more dancing. No more almosts. No more wondering.
I stand in front of Tyson, only to straddle him, one knee on each side of his thighs. The grin he wears grows as each second continues. My fingertips push into his hair and I kiss him. His hands find my sides, gripping my rib cage before going around my back, pulling us closer together.
“I think we’ve held out for long enough,” I smile into him. “I want to be with you. Only you.”
He hugs me tight, kissing the crook of my neck. Being around Tyson always felt good. Safe. I knew he always had my back. But this is different. It’s like finding the missing piece of the puzzle sitting on your table for far too long.
“I know this is complicated. The team. The press. I don’t even know if there’s a no fraternization policy?
We have some time to think about what happens when we go back to New York, but what do we do when we’re here?
With your family?” I ask as Tyson continues to hold onto me like I’m about to slip away.
He pulls back and my fingers run alongside his jawline.
“Well, they know a little bit about this whole thing. Teague put the pressure on me the last time he was in town—trying to get me to make a move. I told my mom when I got home yesterday. We could show up, hold hands, and kiss on the couch and my family would simply scream internally, or maybe even externally. They’d keep it to themselves. ”
Thinking about Tyson moving around the kitchen with his mom, explaining the messy strings between him and me, makes me want to scream externally. A man who confides in his mom? Yeah, I’m into that.
“But, if we want to go back and act like we decided to stay friends, and that’s it, I’m cool with that.”
“I don’t want that.” I don’t mean to rush the words but it’s a gut reaction.
The thought of playing friends, like we’re playing dress up, isn’t what I want.
Knowing this is a safe space, with some people I love more than anything, I want to be ourselves.
“I want us to be honest with them. No more close calls and almosts,” he kisses my nose as an interruption, “just enjoying this time together.”
“That sounds fucking perfect.”
Tyson smirks into my mouth and lets out a small laugh between my lips. Pure joy. That’s what I feel. In this cabin, which I’ve been to for the last ten years, with the man who knows me better than some of my own family members, it feels like things are falling into place.
We kiss on the couch as the snow continues to fall outside. I don’t know how long we’re wrapped around each other, but my stomach growls.
“Now, tell me you brought some treats back from the bakery,” I whine playfully.
Tyson stands, picking me up with him—fuck, that’s hot—and says, “Of course I did. You thought I’d come back without something sweet for you? I know better than that.” He tips his head to the bag on the kitchen counter. “I know you, Blair Miller.”
And he kisses me.