Chapter Twenty Carter #2
“Probably. My mom’s been asking about you since the first article came out.” I add pasta to the boiling water. “Fair warning, she’s going to love you. And she’s going to ask when we’re getting married approximately five minutes after meeting you.”
Olivia appears in the kitchen doorway, eyebrows raised. “Married?”
“She’s traditional. Ignore her.” I stir the pasta. “Unless you don’t want to ignore her. In which case, we can discuss it.”
“Carter Storm, are you proposing to me in your kitchen while making pasta?”
“No. I’m just saying, if my mother brings it up, I won’t hate the idea.” I look up at her. “But that’s way down the road. Right now, I’m focused on convincing you that moving in was the right choice.”
She crosses to me, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind. “I already know it was the right choice.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She presses a kiss between my shoulder blades. “This feels right. You feel right. Everything about us feels right, even when it’s messy and complicated and scary.”
I turn in her arms, pulling her close. “It’s going to be messy sometimes. My career’s ending. I don’t know what comes next. And there’s going to be games where I’m frustrated and impossible to live with.”
“I can handle impossible.” She tilts her head back to look at me. “As long as you can handle my stress-cleaning at three in the morning and my tendency to overthink everything.”
“I’ll love your stress-cleaning. And your overthinking.” I kiss her forehead. “I will love all of it, Olivia. Even the parts you think are flaws.”
“Even when I push you away because I’m scared?”
“Especially then. Because it means I get to remind you, I’m not going anywhere.” I cup her face. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m in this for the long haul.”
Tears shimmer in her eyes. “How did I get so lucky?”
“Pretty sure I’m the lucky one.”
The pasta timer beeps. Olivia laughs, wiping her eyes. “Saved by the bell.”
We eat at the kitchen island, talking about logistics. When she’ll start moving her stuff. What furniture we’ll keep. Whether we should turn the spare bedroom into an office for her or keep it as a guest room.
It’s domestic and mundane and absolutely perfect.
After dinner, we end up on the couch, Olivia tucked against my side, my arm around her shoulders. The TV plays something neither of us is watching. We’re just existing together, soaking in the peace after days of chaos.
“I should call Maya,” Olivia murmurs. “She’s probably losing her mind.”
“Do it later. Right now, you’re exactly where you need to be.”
She tilts her head up, studying my face. “What are you thinking about?”
“Honestly? How different my life looks now compared to a month ago.” I brush her hair back. “A month ago, I was just trying to get through my final season. Focused on football and nothing else. And then you showed up at that police station at four in the morning, and everything changed.”
“I was so annoyed with you that night,” she admits. “Thought you were just another player who couldn’t stay out of trouble.”
“I was trouble. Just not the kind you expected.”
“No. You were the kind that made me question every rule I’d set for myself.” She traces patterns on my chest. “The kind that made me want things I thought I couldn’t have.”
“And now?”
“Now I have them. Have you and I’m not letting go.”
I kiss her, slow and deep, pouring everything I feel into it. When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“Bedroom?” she asks.
“You sure? You’ve had a long day.”
“I’m sure.” She stands, taking my hand. “I want to celebrate. With you. Right now.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
We take our time, relearning each other after days of stress and separation. Every touch is deliberate, every kiss a promise. And when we finally come together, it’s not just physical. It’s a claiming. A commitment.
A choice to build something real, no matter what obstacles come our way.
Afterward, we lie tangled in my sheets, her head on my chest, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on her bare shoulder.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you too.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “And tomorrow, we tell Mark. Make this official.”
“He’s going to have opinions.”
“Let him. We’ve done nothing wrong. We’re two adults in a relationship. He’ll have to deal with it.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “What about your career? Once this season ends, what happens?”
“I don’t know yet.” I tighten my arm around her. “I’ve been thinking about coaching. Maybe staying with the team in some capacity. Or I could do something completely different. Broadcasting. Charity work. The options are pretty open.”
“You’d be a great coach.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. You’re patient with the younger players.
You understand the game better than anyone.
And you actually care about developing people, not just winning games.
” She shifts, propping herself up to look at me.
“Whatever you decide, I’ll support you. Whether it’s staying in football or doing something completely different. ”
“Same goes for you. If you want to stay with the Dragons, great. If you want to start your own PR firm, even better. Whatever makes you happy.”
“Right now? You make me happy.” She kisses me softly. “Everything else we’ll figure out as we go.”
“Together.”
“Together,” she agrees.
We drift off like that, wrapped around each other, the future uncertain but somehow less scary because we’re facing it as a team.
The next morning, I wake up to find Olivia already showered and dressed, pacing my bedroom with her phone pressed to her ear.
“Yes, Maya, I’m fine. Better than fine, actually.” She catches my eye and smiles. “I’ll call you later with details. I promise. Love you too.”
She hangs up and crosses to the bed, leaning down to kiss me. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” I pull her down beside me. “You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep. Too much adrenaline still.” She curls into my side. “I’ve been checking the news. The retraction is everywhere. Sports Insider issued a formal apology. And Jake Martinez was arrested this morning for fraud and defamation.”
“Good. He deserves it.”
“Carol called me. She wanted to apologize again for her nephew. I told her she didn’t need to. She did the right thing by coming forward.”
“She did.” I kiss her temple. “What time is it?”
“Seven-thirty. We should probably head to the stadium soon if we’re going to talk to Mark.”
“You nervous?”
“A little. But mostly I’m just ready to stop hiding.” She sits up, smoothing her hair. “Ready to be us. Publicly. Without apology.”
“That’s my girl.” I climb out of bed, grabbing clothes. “Give me ten minutes to shower, then we’ll go face the music.”
“There’s fresh coffee downstairs.”
“You made coffee?”
“Of course. It’s going to be my house too now. I need to know where everything is.”
The casual way she says it, my house too, makes something in my chest expand. This is real. She’s moving in. We’re building a life together.
Thirty minutes later, we’re in my truck, heading back to the stadium. Olivia’s hand rests on my thigh, and I keep one hand on the wheel, the other covering hers.
“Whatever he says, we’re in this together,” I remind her.
“I know.” She squeezes my leg. “I’m not scared anymore. Yesterday proved the truth matters. We can face anything as long as we’re honest.”
We pull into the parking lot, and I spot Mark’s car. Early, like always.
Inside, we head straight for his office. His assistant looks surprised to see us together but doesn’t comment. Just picks up the phone.
“Mr. Davidson? Carter Storm and Olivia Rivers are here to see you.”
A pause. Then: “Send them in.”
Mark’s office door swings open, and we walk in together. He looks up from his desk, expression unreadable.
“Storm. Olivia. I wasn’t expecting you both this early.”
“We wanted to talk to you,” I say. “Officially.”
“About?”
“Us.” I take Olivia’s hand, lacing our fingers together. “Olivia and I are together. We’re not hiding it anymore, and we’re not apologizing for it. If that’s a problem, if you need me to finish out my contract somewhere else or if you need to reassign Olivia—”
“Stop.” Mark holds up a hand. “Sit down. Both of you.”
We do.
He studies us for a long moment, then sighs. “Look, I’m not going to pretend this is ideal. Office relationships are messy. They create complications. But—” He pauses. “You two have been through hell this week. And you came out stronger. That says something.”
“So, we can stay?” Olivia asks.
“You can stay.” Mark leans back in his chair. “But there are conditions. Olivia, you’re no longer Carter’s primary handler. I’m reassigning you to work with other players. Someone else will manage his PR for the rest of the season.”
“That’s fair,” she says quickly.
“And Storm, if this relationship affects your performance on the field, we’ll revisit this conversation. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Good.” Mark’s expression softens slightly. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re good for each other. You balance him out, Olivia. Make him think beyond football. And Storm, you make her take risks. Push her out of her comfort zone. That’s not a bad thing.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Don’t thank me yet. You’re both still going to be under scrutiny. The press is going to watch every move you make. And if you screw this up, if either of you makes this organization look bad, there will be consequences.”
“We won’t,” Olivia says firmly. “We’ve learned our lesson about secrets. From now on, we’re doing everything by the book.”
“Good.” Mark stands, and we do too. “Now get out of my office. I have actual work to do.”
We leave, and the moment we’re in the hallway, Olivia lets out a breath she’s been holding.
“That went better than expected,” she says.
“Told you it would be fine.”
“You were sweating.”
“Was not.”
“Were too.” She grins up at me. “But we did it. We’re official. No more hiding.”
I pull her into my arms, not caring who sees. “No more hiding,” I agree. “Just us. Out in the open. Building something real.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Me too.” I kiss her, slow and sweet. “Now let’s go start the rest of our lives.”
And that’s exactly what we do.
Together.
The way it was always meant to be.
THE END