Chapter 31
Emmett
“You good?” Kai asks as I bring the bourbon to my lips.
I relish in the burn as it slides down my throat. It’s both delicious and needed.
I know exactly where Reese ran off to. We’re at the stadium after all. But I’m not going to disturb her in her one safe space here. In the one place she can think clearly.
Instead, I’m going to down this drink and reminisce on what a fucking idiot I am for professing my unwavering desire to be with her while in the middle of all our coworkers.
I don’t answer Kai because I don’t have it in me to lie and I can’t exactly talk this out with him right here and now. Instead, I lean my forearms on the cocktail table and take another long swig from the glass.
“I’ll take that as a no, you’re not good, and you don’t want to talk about it.”
I lift an impressed brow in his direction. “You know me so well, honey.”
He chuckles. “I’m taking Mills home. She’s not feeling great.”
“What?” I stand up straighter. “Is she okay?”
“Sorry. Yeah, she’s fine. Just more exhausted than she thought she’d be. We came with Isaiah and Ken, but they’re not ready to call it a night just yet, so I’m going to get a rideshare for us.”
“No. No need for that.” I reach into my pocket, pulling out my keys. “Take my truck.”
“You sure? Do you want me to drop you off on our way?”
Glancing back at the door where Reese exited, I will her to walk back in.
Still, she doesn’t.
So, I finish the rest of the bourbon in my hand.
I’ve only had this and half a beer, and as tempted as I am to get a little buzz going so I can think about something other than what just happened on the dance floor, I know I need to stay sober so I can apologize for making a scene when she comes back in.
“I’m going to hang here for a bit,” I tell my future son-in-law. “I’ll grab a rideshare later, but thanks.”
He smacks me on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”
Over the next hour, I mingle with my coworkers. I catch up with some of my former players. I stare at the door, waiting for Reese to come back inside.
I know she went and hid in the dugout, but it’s been over an hour. She should’ve been back by now.
It’s then the sobering realization sinks in that she isn’t coming back to the party because she already left.
What is wrong with me? Why did I feel the need to tell her that here of all places? She preemptively asked me to stay away tonight. She essentially glued herself to her grandfather to ensure that I would.
And the second I had her to myself, I practically begged her to be with me. Threw my job on the line and everything. For someone who can usually read a situation through a clear lens, my feelings for Reese have me spinning out of control and ridding my brain of all rational thought.
I might not know what the hell I’m doing when it comes to Reese, but I do know if she’s not here anymore, then I don’t want to be either.
Making my rounds, I say a few goodbyes, congratulate Arthur one more time, then head out the side door to go home for the night.
A tinge of humidity still suffocates the air as I step outside, and the suit I’m wearing doesn’t help the situation. But it’s not nearly as bad as it’ll feel later this summer. I pull up the rideshare app on my phone, request a car, and stand on the curb as I wait for it to arrive.
A few minutes pass and a car pulls up along the curb in front of me, but it’s not the one the app told me to look out for. It’s a little red Porsche that’s far too pristine to be used as a taxi.
The tinted passenger window begins to descend and when I dip my head to look inside, I find Reese behind the wheel.
I know she has a couple of cars and apparently one of them is a Porsche. And unsurprisingly, she looks fucking unreal in it.
“Need a ride?” she asks.
I hold up my phone to show her the screen. “Just called for one.”
The unmistakable click of the passenger door unlocking fills the silence between us.
“Cancel it. I’ll take you home.”
That desperation to talk to her comes back with a thundering amount of hope that this could be my opportunity to do just that. It’s what causes me to cancel my ride and slide into the car with her.
It’s not meant for someone of my size, that’s for damn sure. But I can put up with a bit of physical discomfort if that means I might be able to fix what just happened between us.
Reese pulls onto the street and starts driving.
“I thought you left,” I say into the otherwise silent car.
She hesitates for a long moment. “I just needed some time to think.”
I watch her, and get the sense she’s thankful she has to keep her eyes on the road.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know, Em.”
This is the part where I should apologize for springing that not-so-little confession on her. But something about the way she’s slumped as she drives, and the exhaustion she’s experiencing from overthinking for the past hour, has me keeping my mouth shut and saving it for another time.
The ride is silent. Every red light we sit at makes the tension grow. This car is far too small for this much pressure to build.
She takes a turn in the opposite direction of my apartment, and that’s when I realize she has no clue where I live. I blanked on giving her directions, too preoccupied with her simply being here.
“I actually . . .” I throw my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m that way.”
“Okay.”
Reese continues to drive without looking for a place to turn around. Without even trying to.
I’m a smart enough man not to question her. Not tonight. She’s equal parts confident and uneasy as she continues on, and I can’t quite put my finger on what’s going on. She takes a few more turns, the route an ingrained path for her, until finally, she pulls up in front of a building.
Her building.
The valet pops out to park her car for her, but before he gets to the door, I turn to her.
“Not that I’m complaining, but I thought you said you were taking me home?”
“I am. I just didn’t say when.”
She passes off her keys to the valet, and heads to the main entrance of the building, expecting me to follow.
And like a fucking dog, I do.
I quickly catch up to her, and together, we cross the lobby to the same elevator where I kissed her for the first time. Standing next to each other inside, we don’t speak. The only sound is the instrumental music playing over the speakers.
It’s soft and calming, vastly contradictory to the war raging inside of me. The confusion. The want. The hope that if I’m not going home just yet, that’ll give us time to talk. Time for me to apologize.
The music doesn’t match up with the woman next to me either. She’s practically rattling with nerves, and they only seem to grow the higher we climb. More than anything else, that’s what has my attention.
“Reese, if you don’t want me to come up, I don’t have to.”
“It’s not that. It’s just . . .” She steels her spine as the elevator stops moving. “I’ll explain inside.”
She exhales a long breath as the doors open, then steps off into her condo, heading farther into the entryway. I take one single step into her place, but pause there, just on the other side of elevator doors, because I’m not actually convinced she wants me to be here.
The elevator closes behind me, leaving us alone. And finally, Reese turns to look at me.
“So, this is my condo.” She sweeps her arms out, and her voice is laced with faux confidence.
I quickly glance around. It looks exactly as I would expect her place to be. Expensive. Luxurious. And it practically screams her name with the neutral color palette.
“It’s beautiful.”
The statement is hardly out of my mouth before she starts trying to explain herself. “I know it’s indulgent and a bit over the top, but—”
“I like that you like nice things, Reese.” Her blue eyes meet mine, this fear of being judged so clear in her expression. “And I like that you like me.”
She sighs, her shoulders dropping. “I do like you, Emmett.”
“I know you do.”
Reese’s expression is full of apology, as if she’s the one who needs to apologize for leaving earlier when I was the one who ran her off.
She shifts on her heels as a pink hue flushes her cheeks. “No one else has ever been in this condo before. It’s another one of my safe spaces, I suppose. Another place I can hide.”
Oh.
Her nervous energy suddenly makes complete sense, and the gravity of what she’s telling me settles onto my shoulders. Her allowing me to see her home feels a lot like she’s allowing me to see her.
That realization changes this entire interaction. She’s not tense because I was too honest with her earlier. She’s nervous because she’s trying to do the same.
Suddenly, the five feet of entryway between us feels like too much distance.
“I’m sorry for running off earlier.”
“No.” I take a single step in her direction. “No, Reese. I shouldn’t have thrown all that on you, especially there.”
“It’s just that, I don’t have the luxury of letting my walls down in public, Em.”
“I know. I knew better than to do that, and I’m sorry.”
“So, I guess that’s why I wanted to bring you here. This place makes me feel safe to be myself.” Her eyes meet mine. “You make me feel safe to be myself.”
I want to cover the space between us, to take away the distance. But I can tell by the way she’s hesitating that she’s trying to conjure the words she needs to say to me.
And I want to hear every single one of them.
“You’re a safe man, Emmett. I know that might not seem like the most glowing of compliments, but I promise you, you being safe is everything to someone like me.”
Safe. Maybe if I were young, I wouldn’t love the description. But as a grown man who knows better, safe is the only word I want her to use to describe me. It’s the only way I want her to feel around me.
Her honesty has me frozen in the entryway of her condo, unable to tear my eyes off her and praying that she keeps going.
“I think that might be your superpower. Being safe.”
Her ocean eyes are soft but look like they might well up at any moment, and I have a feeling whatever she’s about to say could make mine do the same.
“You make your players on the team feel safe enough to come to you with whatever they need. You made the Rhodes boys feel safe enough to think of you as both a father and a friend. You made Miller feel safe enough to know that she was going to be loved by you when she lost her mom. And Claire . . .” Reese smiles sadly.
“You made her feel safe enough that when it was her time to go, she knew she could leave her daughter with you. I can’t imagine the relief she must have felt, knowing her daughter would be safe with you. ”
It’s hard to breathe. I’m unable to swallow past the lump in my throat. It’s more overwhelming than I assumed it’d be, being seen in this way by someone you desperately want to know every part of you.
“And me,” Reese continues. “You make me feel safe enough that when I’m around you, I can take off my armor.
Even when I have to continue wearing it around everyone else.
When I’m with you, you allow me to shut off my brain because it feels safe enough to know that everything will be taken care of, and I don’t have to be the one to handle it. ”
She swallows, seeming like she’s on the verge of crying, and it’s then I realize I’ve never seen her cry. Even over the past week, while she was being torn to shreds, she didn’t cry.
Reese straightens her shoulders, and boldly says, “My heart has waited a long time to be wanted by someone like you, and that terrifies me.”
And now I’m positive all the oxygen has left the room. I certainly can’t seem to find any.
“Why does that scare you, Reese?”
“Where do I start?” She breathes a sad laugh.
“Anywhere. Start anywhere. Just tell me everything.”
“Well.” She gestures in my direction with frustration.
“I’m scared because I tried and failed to stay away from you.
I’m scared of what the headlines would say if anyone found out.
I already feel traumatized from this last week as it is.
I’m scared for your job, regardless that you say you’re willing to lose it.
But I’m not willing for you to lose it. And I’m scared that the one thing I’ve ever wanted, which was this career, feels overshadowed by how much I want you. ”
Those final three words play on a loop as I take a step toward her.
“I’m scared of this career slipping through my fingers before it’s really even begun, which is also exactly how I feel about you. And most days, those two things don’t feel like they can coexist, so that’s scary too.”
She takes a breath, recomposing herself.
“But the thing that scares me the most is knowing that there was safety and security in not looking for someone to add to my life. I truly was fine being alone because turning off the desire to find a partner meant that I turned off any chance that someone could let me down again. I wouldn’t have to question someone’s motives for wanting to be in my life.
So, the thought of switching that back on is . . .”
“Scary,” I finish for her, taking another step in her direction.
“Terrifying.”
“Don’t think you’re alone in that. You terrify me just the same, Reese. I’ve only ever wanted one other person in my entire life, and I lost her. Wanting someone again, opening myself to possibly losing you is fucking petrifying.”
Her head tilts, brows pinched. “Emmett.”
“But my fear doesn’t stop me from wanting you.”
She swallows hard. “Neither does mine.”
I take another step in her direction, risking it all when I ask, “So what are we doing, Reese?”
“I don’t know.” She throws her hands up in defeat.
“I have this internal war raging inside me at all times. I feel calm when you’re around, but also like every inch of me is on fire.
You’re both safe and simultaneously the most terrifying person in my life.
I have never been so unsure about what to do while also being so steadfast and certain about you.
I have no idea what I’m doing, while at the same time knowing exactly what I want.
And, Emmett.” Her shoulders drop, every inch of her giving up the fight. “I want you.”
It’s overwhelmingly surreal to hear that you’re wanted by a woman who doesn’t need anyone.
“Say that again.”
Her eyes narrow with confusion. “Which part?”
“The last part.”
“I want you.”
“That’s the one. That’s all that matters.”
I close the distance between us, standing right in front of her.
Hopeful and vulnerable and terrified blue eyes look up to meet mine. “What if we risk everything and we don’t work out?”
“But what if we do?”
The words sit in the small amount of empty space left between us.
“Emmett,” she whispers, so clearly exhausted from overthinking all night. “I’m tired of fighting this.”
“Yeah, baby. Me too.” I drop my forehead to hers. “So, let’s stop fighting.”