Chapter 25 Sloane
SLOANE
Oliver followed me into the kitchen, and I couldn’t explain how comforting and safe I felt with his presence. My heart fluttered as I started my espresso machine and poured the ground beans into the scoop. “How do you enjoy your coffee?”
“However it’s presented to me. Prefer it black usually.” He leaned against the counter, the towel hanging off his hips. I don’t think I’d ever get over how handsome and fit he was. My face flushed as he caught me grinning at him, and I busied myself with the coffee.
He chuckled softly and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the island counter. The position only showcased his biceps even more. “I don’t drink caffeine often though. Maybe a few times a week.”
“Because of your heart rate?”
“Yeah. Because of that.”
The machine whirred, the dark liquid coming out into the mug, but I faced him, arms crossed as a thought hit me. “Oliver, wait, you held me in the shower. Are you…are you feeling okay?”
“Love that you’re doing a wellness check on me now, but yes, I feel fucking incredible.”
“Are you sure?”
He pushed off and took my hand, then placed it over his warm bare chest. Despite everything we had already done together, an intimacy existed here that had my breath catching in my throat. “Feel my heart beat, Sloane. When I’m around you, it’s consistent, strong, safe.”
I took a second and counted his beats. They were steady. How could this sweet, kind, resilient man feel this way about me? I didn’t get it, and an unwarranted blush crept up my neck.
“What’s this blush for, baby?” Oliver ran his finger over my neck, his lips curving up into a half smirk. “We almost destroy a hotel room, then really enjoy your shower, yet you touching my chest makes you blush? Fascinating. You are fascinating.”
“You are so forward and open with your feelings about me. I’m not used to this level of honesty,” I said, my stomach clenching from even sharing that with him.
“And my honesty makes you blush?”
“Apparently.” I rolled my eyes and started the second espresso, handing Oliver’s his on a cute little plate. “The espresso machine and accessories were the first real gift I treated myself with when I moved here. I splurged on them, and I never splurge.”
“Jordan bought three versions of the same car but in different colors so he could pick what to drive based on his mood.” Oliver’s eyes crinkled on the sides. “Noah bought a food truck, which only lasted six months before he sold it. We all have our moments.”
“What did you buy?” I leaned against the counter, admiring him. His muscles constricted when he laughed, and I swore my blood heated being around him. “What was your thing?”
His smile faltered a bit as he gripped the back of his neck. “Not to be a downer, but my parents needed financial help, so I sent most of that paycheck to them.”
“Oliver,” I said, quite possibly falling for him even more.
He held up a hand, slightly shaking his head. “I have zero regrets about it. My sister wanted to head to this university that was expensive, and I’d do anything for her. I’m happy I could help.”
“Is that…” I swallowed my question, careful not to blur the line that we crossed already. I cleared my throat and added some foam to my own espresso, already coming up with a plan for rules. We couldn’t talk about work together. And we couldn’t be together at work.
“Hey, ask what you were going to.”
A gentle hand landed on my shoulder, kneading me through the robe. He spun me around, a soft, curious expression meeting me.
“Sloane, you can ask me anything. I need you asking me questions so you don’t connect dots that aren’t there.” He sipped his drink again, his eyes widening. “Damn, this is good.”
“Yeah, I have an affliction for certain types of beans. You’ll learn soon enough.”
“Honestly can’t wait to learn every fucking thing about you,” he whispered, and my heart tripped in my chest.
I didn’t mean my comment that way. I meant he’d learn about what coffee beans were the best—not…
damn it. This man. I ducked my head, fighting a smile as I led us to the couch.
I set my cup down and took the towel off my head, letting my hair air-dry.
Oliver watched me with the same transfixed smile, like he thought everything I did was amazing.
Eventually, that would stop. It had to. I wasn’t that interesting.
“Okay, rules,” I said, but Oliver frowned. “What?”
“Ask the question you wanted to, please.”
“It was nothing. I think we should talk about rules on how this could work.”
His nostrils flared, and he leaned back on the couch, his expression tighter than before. I hated seeing him upset or annoyed or anything besides his smile, and I clasped my hands together.
“Rule one,” he said, holding my gaze. “We don’t hold back anything out of fear. You want to know something, you ask it.”
“Oliver,” I rasped out. “It was—”
“To answer your half-question, yes, my motivation to be here and fight through whatever the hell is going on in my body is for my family. My sister has one more year left of school, and sure, she’s pissed as hell at me for playing, but she doesn’t know I’m the reason she gets to go to her dream art school. ”
I closed my eyes, letting that sink in. I wasn’t Doctor Mercer here, I couldn’t be. I was Sloane, and I hated pressure of responsibility he wore like armor. “Do you even want to play football professionally?”
“I’m good at it.”
“Yes, you are, but that wasn’t the question.” I spoke softer, gentler. I wanted to curl up next to him and hug him, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate that. It wasn’t pity but the need to care for him. “Just because you’re good at something, doesn’t mean you need to keep doing it.”
“I like playing. I love the guys, the team. The sense of family you don’t find anywhere else.
It’s all I ever prepared for. I like feeling needed on the field.
” He shrugged and took a sip of the drink.
“I graduated with a degree in business administration, but I figured when my body gave out, I’d make that switch. ”
“Why wait until your body gives out? Why not choose that path when you’re feeling okay?”
“That is the question I can’t seem to answer. I don’t know.” His posture went rigid, and the humor lines around his eyes were gone. “I made it this year, Sloane. I’m starting, and my numbers are fucking good. I’d be a fool to throw that away out of fear.”
“Even though you could take it too far one day?”
He nodded.
I exhaled, leaning farther into the couch and putting a little distance between us.
That complicated things a bit. He was willing to push himself to the point his body or heart could give out.
“Well, that’s not exactly the most reassuring feeling to have as someone who agreed to give this a try with you. ”
“Sloane…please. You said you wanted to talk about rules, and I think we should. One of my first ones is to not talk about my health when we’re together. There is a team of people, including you, that watch and monitor me. If there was a reason to be concerned, we both know Ivy would raise hell.”
My throat tightened. I didn’t like the idea of not talking about his health.
Did that mean I couldn’t ask how he was feeling?
Or bring him something if he was hot or cold?
Our relationship already had to be in secret, and this was another restriction to add.
My skin felt hotter as I adjusted my position.
If this was his rule, then I’d have to follow it. Even if it really hurt.
“Okay,” I said, not looking at him. I stared at my bare coffee table.
I needed a plant there or something so the place didn’t seem so boring.
Yeah, focusing on decorating was the mature thing to do because his rule upset me.
If I was going to do this, I was going to be honest. I shook my head, my voice coming out stronger.
“Actually, no. I’m not going to do this with you if I’m cut off from something that I view as really important. ”
His blue eyes widened, his jaw tensing. “You’re not going to do this?”
“You heard me.” I stood, feeling emboldened.
“I want this, I want you, but when I mentioned rules, I meant at work. The place where I could get fired. Because make no mistake, Oliver. I’m the one taking the risk here.
Not you. If someone were to find out, I’d lose my job, not you.
So yeah, I’m not gonna risk it all if you’re going to cut off a huge part of yourself because it makes you uncomfortable. ”
My pulse raced at the base of my neck, my adrenaline coursing through me from standing up for myself and stating what I wanted. My life was about what other people wanted, not me, and it felt good. Terrifying, but good.
“Sloane—”
“Don’t use that tone with me. This is nonnegotiable.” I took a shaky breath. “If you want to leave, I understand.”
“I’m not leaving.” He shook his head, a small smirk on his face. “Unrelated to the topic, I wanted to say you are really hot when you get bossy. We might need to revisit you being the boss in the bedroom.”
“Don’t flirt with me right now.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He set his mug down and clasped his hands, resting his elbows on his knees as he held my gaze. “I shouldn’t have demanded that. It isn’t fair to you or whatever this is between us. I won’t hide how I’m physically feeling from you.”
“Okay.” I sighed, not quite believing how fast and easily he changed his mind. I kept my arms crossed, my stomach still flipping with uncertainty.
“Can you sit back down with me? I’m not digging this arms-crossed, distance thing right now. I hurt you, and I want to make it up to you.”
“You didn’t…I guess, maybe you did.”
I sat on the edge of the couch, but Oliver grabbed my robe and tugged, moving me to sit on his lap. His scent and arms engulfed me, and he brought one hand to my cheek, his fingers running over my bottom lip. His touch made me all warm and safe at the same time. “What are you doing?”
“I’m an idiot.”
“Uh, why?”
He stared at my mouth, then eyes as he exhaled softly. “You are the one risking it all. I know how much your career means to you, and I swear, Sloane, I will make sure nothing happens to your job. The least I can do is open up to you about what is risky for me.”
“I appreciate you saying that.” I smiled into his palm, still nervous about how quickly that was resolved. I wasn’t used to it. “So at work…we can’t touch. No flirting. None of the bedroom eyes. You have to treat me like you would Benson or Mac.”
He cringed. “Not even in your office?”
“When the door is shut and locked, maybe, but you have to let me lead. I’ll be incredibly nervous and uncomfortable, worried about being caught.” I intertwined our fingers, knowing he liked the extra touches. “We’ll basically be dating in secret.”
“Are you okay with that?” He played with the ends of my wet hair, where the curls started forming. “I love your hair. I fucking love these little curls.”
“Thanks, but yeah, what choice do we have? It’d be a breach of the code of ethics for my practice, on top of the Rampage handbook that restricts relationships between staff and players.””
He shrugged, pulling me against his chest in a hug as he leaned back into the couch. “We always have a choice, but I think we take it slow. Get to know each other, truly. Not hold back. We hide it at work to protect your career and see what happens. Think you can do that with me?”
“Yeah, I think I can.”
“Now, tell me about your family and why you stayed another night.”
And so I did. I told him everything—my conflict with my parents, my brother, that he wanted to talk again. Oliver listened, assured me, and only gave advice if I wanted it.
We hung out the entire day. Ten hours of chatting, laughing, cooking together. Then, instead of him leaving, he stayed the night with me again and showed me over and over how much he enjoyed hearing me come.
He said we’d take this slow, but nothing about him felt casual or slow. I hoped wherever this ended up…neither one of us ended up hurt.