Chapter 37
Heather
I wake up slowly, dimly aware that something hard and uncomfortable is digging into the side of my head. Something plastic.
My phone.
I’m still holding it in my hand and pressing it against my ear.
The memory of last night’s conversation comes back to me and I start to smile—both because of how much Grant opened up to me and because of how desperate I obviously was to keep him on the line.
He must have waited for me to fall asleep first before he hung up. But as soon as the thought occurs to me, I hear his slow, steady breathing.
He never hung up at all. He stayed on the line all night and is still here with me now.
My heart does that familiar little flutter, and I know for sure that I’m smiling up at my ceiling like an idiot now, but I can’t help myself.
I turn over in bed carefully, then bring the phone to my other ear. “Grant?” I whisper, then try a little louder with, “Baby?”
The breathing changes and becomes less steady. “Hm?”
His voice is rough with sleep, and deeper than usual, and it’s doing absolutely unfair things to my insides.
“You’re still here,” I say softly.
“Yeah.” There’s a rustling sound, like he’s moving around. “I wanted to say good morning.”
My chest tightens. “You stayed on the phone all night just to say good morning?”
“Is that okay?”
“It’s…” I trail off, not sure how to put what I’m feeling into words. “It’s really sweet.”
“Good. And good morning, Hurricane.”
That special nickname never fails to send a rush of heat through my body. Even first thing in the morning. Even half-asleep. “Good morning.”
We’re both still in that drowsy space between dreams and reality. He tells me about the weird dream he had where all his teammates turned into actual aces from a deck of cards. I tell him about April’s latest plan to convince me we need a pet hamster.
“A hamster?” He snorts but sounds amused.
“She made a whole presentation. With graphs.”
“At nine years old?”
“She’s very determined.” I stretch, settling deeper into my pillows. “I’m afraid she gets that from me.”
“I don’t doubt that. It’ll serve her well in life.”
His voice is so warm and familiar that I could listen to him talk all day if we had time, but reality is starting to creep back in. He has a plane to catch, and I have to get April up and ready for school.
“What time is it?” I ask.
“A little after six.” He pauses. “I should probably get moving. I need to hit the hotel gym and then grab breakfast before I meet the guys.”
“Right. Yeah.” I sit up, already missing this easy, sweet, simple back and forth. “So I’ll see you sometime this afternoon?”
“As fast as I can get there. I’ll let you know if there are any delays.”
We say goodbye, and when I finally end the call, I sit there for a moment, staring at my phone screen.
Something is building between us. It’s bigger than just sex or convenience or even two people helping each other out.
And instead of being terrified by that realization, I think—for the first time in years—I might actually be ready for it.
That feeling stays with me all day.
It hums beneath my skin while I make April breakfast and lingers in the back of my mind during the morning rush to get her to school. It grows stronger with every hour that passes, and by the time three o’clock rolls around, I can barely sit still.
I pick up April from school and bring her home, and my heart is already beating faster at the thought of seeing him again. I seriously can’t wait to be in the same room with him instead of connected by a phone line.
“Can I watch a movie?” April asks as we walk through the front door.
“Sure, sweetheart.” I help her out of her backpack as a crazy, irresponsible, way-too-tempting idea takes hold. “Why don’t you pick something in the media room? I’ll bring you some popcorn in a few minutes.”
Grant’s home theater is ridiculously high-tech and luxuriously comfortable at the same time, but we’ve only ever used it all together a couple of times.
The living room, with its big screen TV and convenient location right off the kitchen and the main staircase, is where we usually gather in the evenings instead.
This will be the first time I’ve even hinted that April can have the full movie theater experience all by herself, so I know she’ll jump at the opportunity. Just like I’m jumping at the opportunity of having the next couple of hours alone with Grant once he gets home.
As I predicted, April lights up and takes off down the hallway, already calling out movie titles she’s considering.
I toss a bag of popcorn in the microwave and empty it into a big bowl, then take it to her in the media room, where she’s already watching the opening credits of an animated movie that I know for a fact she’s already seen at least six times.
Everything is better on that big screen, though, no doubt about it. I’m even tempted to stay and watch for a few minutes with her, but I have other plans that I need to set into motion.
I give her a kiss on the head and tell her to call for me if she needs anything, then leave her to watch the movie and quietly shut the theater room door behind me.
My hands are shaking slightly as I climb the stairs to Grant’s room. This is crazy. Maybe too bold. But that feeling from this morning—that warmth, that certainty—is still there, pushing me forward.
I find one of his jerseys hanging in his closet. It looks brand new but still smells like him, and has his name in big letters across the back.
Perfect.
I pull off my shirt and jeans and slip it on, knowing from the last time I wore one of his jerseys that it will fall to mid-thigh, like the shortest of short skirts.
Also perfect.
Then I position myself near his bed and wait.
I only have to wait a few minutes before I hear the front door open, followed by the sound of his keys hitting the entry table.
“Heather? April? Anyone home?”
I have to bite my tongue not to answer. Luckily, he doesn’t waste time looking around downstairs. I hear his heavy footsteps on the stairs, getting closer by the second.
When he finally appears in the doorway, he drops his bag and goes completely still.
His eyes sweep over me, taking in the jersey, my bare legs, and the way I’m standing here waiting for him. Something dark and hungry flashes across his face.
“What are you doing?” His voice comes out rough and strained, like it’s taking all of his concentration to keep from moving.
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. “I was thinking maybe I should wear this to your next game.”
“You look fucking amazing.” His jaw tightens. “But it’ll take about five seconds for people to figure out there’s something going on between us.”
This is it. The moment where I either pull back to my comfort zone and protect myself, or I take a leap of faith.
I force myself to hold his gaze, even as my stomach twists into knots. “Yeah, I think you’re right. But maybe that’s okay.”
The silence stretches between us, and for a terrifying second, I worry that I’ve pushed too far or wanted too much, too soon.
Then he crosses the room in three powerful steps and pulls me against him.
His mouth crashes down on mine with a kiss so deep and consuming that I feel instantly reassured even though he hasn’t said anything out loud yet. I melt into him, clinging to his strong shoulders as he walks me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed.
When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathing hard and fast.
“You really want people to know?” he asks, pressing his forehead against mine. “You want them to know you’re mine?”
“Yes.” For once, I don’t feel like I need to hesitate or overthink my answer. “I want that.”
He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, I can see a glimpse of the raw vulnerability that he normally keeps hidden so well. “I’ve wanted that since the first time I saw you in the stands.”
“Grant—”
“I’m serious.” He frames my face with his hands and brushes his thumbs over my cheekbones. “I didn’t know how to want someone this much. I didn’t even know it was possible. But then there you were, and everything changed.”
My chest feels so full and tight that it’s almost too much. “I was so scared. I’m still scared.”
“Of me?”
“Not you. Just… this. Of how much I already feel for you.” I reach up and cover his hands with mine. “But I don’t want to be scared anymore. I don’t want to hold back.”
“Then don’t.” He kisses me again, softer this time. “Wear my jersey. Let everyone know. I want the whole damn world to know you’re with me.”
I smile against his mouth. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
He lifts me onto the bed, following me down and settling his weight over me. But instead of tearing the jersey off, he just looks at me wearing it with a sort of awestruck reverence that makes me feel emotional right along with him.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he says quietly. “Seeing you in this.”
“I think I have some idea.” I can feel exactly what I do to him, pressed hard against my thigh.
He grins, and it transforms his whole face. “Yeah. I guess you do.” He looks back over his shoulder at the open doorway. “Where’s April, by the way?”
“Watching a movie downstairs in the theater room.”
“Smart.”
I feign an innocent smile and half-shrug my shoulders. “A mom has to take her opportunities where she can find them.”
“I know that’s right.” He gives one more look over his shoulder before turning back to me. “Well, I don’t want to push our luck too much, but maybe we can stay like this for a little longer? Just lying here together for a few more minutes?”
“Yeah, I’d like that. A lot.”
“Good.” He kisses me again, then leans in close to my ear and whispers, “Me too.”
The next evening, I stand in front of my bedroom mirror and smooth down the jersey one more time. I’m a ball of nerves, but I’m also more excited to go out and be seen in public than I’ve been in a long time.
Tonight is the night. No more hiding. No more pretending this is just casual.