Chapter 18
CHECKDOWN: QB DUMPS THE BALL OFF TO A NEARBY RB WHEN DEEPER OPTIONS AREN’T OPEN.
Iwake with a gasp.
As I slowly come out of my sleep fog, I struggle to separate what really happened between me and Troy as opposed to what I dreamed last night. Falling back against my pillows, I let my eyes drift shut to remember every second of our first kiss.
After all, dreams are beautiful, but they don’t hold a candle to reality.
Part of me wants to stay caught up in the fantasy of that memory. But the realistic part of me, the woman who has been burned, is already asking what’s next?
Where do we go from here?
I roll to my side in the oversized bed and tug a pillow up against my chest. The fresh scent of linen reminds me faintly of Troy’s cologne I was up close and personal with not that many hours ago.
I knew from the moment I initiated our relationship change, from the second our lips met, everything would be different.
But what if it wasn’t the right thing? What if we were meant to remain friends?
The cautious part of me that’s still scarred from Bryce nudges into my halcyon bliss remembering the feel of Troy’s lips on mine.
My stomach twists at the idea. I clutch the pillow even more tightly at the thought of going downstairs to find he regrets what happened between us.
Aloud, I tell the empty room, “I like him. Not just the way he kissed me, but him. I’ve always liked him.” And that’s true. From the moment Troy and I met, there was this pull between us. At first, I attributed it to him being Bryce’s former teammate.
Now, I know better.
Troy is wonderful, has been from the moment we met and in every interaction thereafter. I grin remembering one night when he surprised me by arriving early and the two of us sat on the couch watching The Food that Made America.
“So, this is why I can eat my weight in chocolate chip cookies,” he muses.
I elbow him. “Nice to see Troy Walsh has a weakness.”
His eyes hold mine. I feel my heart trip even as he replies, “More than one, if you must know.”
That’s when he asks me, “What’s yours?”
Immediately, I answer, “Italian food.”
“Like pizza with mounds of toppings?” He wrinkles his nose.
“Oh, no. I’m thinking Chianina steak since they’re better fed than I am.”
His laughter rings out, and I’m transfixed. “You’re not wrong. What else?”
I think about it for a moment. “Fresh sauce, not the Americanized, dumped-from-a-jar, over-sugared variety. I think—”
But before I could continue, Bryce interrupts our conversation. “Let’s go, you two. If I leave you much longer, we’ll never get to this party on time. Besides, who cares about some Italian cow?”
A look of regret, followed by something I can’t name, flashes on Troy’s face, but he quickly masks it. He waits for me to stand before he takes to his feet. As we pass Bryce, he murmurs, “Your fiancée does. Maybe listen?”
It comes to me just then, Troy’s always had my back since the moment he entered my life. He’s been present, listened. He’s learned my likes and dislikes and gotten to know the real me.
I think back to everything I’ve learned about him and make a vow to myself to learn more.
Starting now.
With a sigh, I throw the covers back and force myself out of bed. The air is cool against my bare skin as I slip a sweater over my head to keep the early morning chill away before wandering to the window. Beyond the glass, the hills covered with grape-laden vines gleam under the morning sun.
I note the crew already hard at work, even at this early hour, and know Troy is out there with them—somewhere.
I just know it. Whether he plans on working with his people all day, I don’t know, but he’s too compassionate.
I can’t imagine him not checking in to ensure the people working for him have everything they need.
Because that’s who he is, I muse. A ping from my email interrupts my introspection. Moving over to my desk, I hope it isn’t someone trying to lure me away with a lucrative job offer.
Instead, I find something worse.
From: Bryce Parry
Subject: Can we talk?
My stomach knots. I’d made sure I blocked him which means only one thing; he created a new email address to break through my sanctuary after I prevented him from contacting me on every other social media platform I have.
Muttering, my hand stills on the touchpad.
“I should delete it.” But my hand hovers, because the foolish part of me that grew up with him as my friend, needs to know what he thinks he can say to make any of what he did right.
I tap on the message to preview it.
Maya,
Please, I need to explain. It wasn’t what you thought. Just give me a chance. I can’t stop thinking about you…us. I’d like to see if there’s a chance to fix things.
“Oh, please. That wasn’t even worth the energy it took to open it.
” Not after his betrayal. Not after how he made me question my self-worth even for a moment.
Now that I know how Bryce considered me a doormat to wipe his cleats on.
Without reading the rest of it, I press Delete before slamming the laptop shut.
Closing my eyes, I murmur, “Think of something that makes you happy, Maya.” Immediately, the memory of Troy’s lips on mine floods through the noise Bryce tried to reintroduce back into my life.
The way his arm banded around my waist.
The faint taste of wine on his lips.
The way I felt tingles race down my spine in a way I hadn’t in far too long. His kiss reminded me of the exhilaration I felt when I jumped out of the plane, something I thought I could conceive but was beyond my wildest imagination.
Terrifyingly perfect.
Getting ready to face the day—and Troy—I worry. Does he regret wanting to give us a chance? Opening my suite door, I head down the stairs before my courage evaporates before I’ve had my first cup of coffee.
I can’t deny the way my heart trips in my chest when I find Troy in the kitchen instead of out with his men.
The smile that erupts on his face eliminates every single worry I had.
Before I can say a word, he crosses the room with a mug of steaming coffee.
Handing it to me, his “Morning, Maya,” carries a warmth that brings back every single memory of what we did in this exact spot.
“Good morning, Troy.” My eyes hold his steadily. Who needs caffeine when my blood pumps courtesy of his presence?
He studies me for a moment, like he’s trying to read what kind of night I had. “You disappeared pretty fast after last night.”
“I didn’t disappear,” I counter, before I lift the mug he handed to me to my lips. Watching him fill a second one for himself, I inform him haughtily, “I went to bed.”
“Right after you kissed me.”
My pulse stutters in recollection. “You kissed me.”
The corner of his mouth lifts, that infuriatingly calm grin. “I did a damn good job at it, too.”
“Troy…” I set my mug on the counter. My gaze remains where it rests when I ask, “Was last night a mistake?”
He sets his mug down next to mine before stepping into my space, slow and deliberate.
“No.”
“That simple? Just no?”
“Do you think it was?”
I shake my head. “I just—I don’t want to lose you. Your friendship. I can’t imagine—”
“Maya.” His tone softens. “Stop overthinking everything.”
“How can I not? You treat me—”
“The way you should have been treated? Like someone who matters? Someone who has the possibility of meaning everything?”
Before I can comprehend the meaning of what he just said, his mouth finds mine again.
The kiss is softer this time. Instead of the fierce rush of passion, it’s steady and deep.
His hands cup my cheeks, holding me in place.
The tension I’ve been carrying since I woke up is replaced by hunger.
A sweet ache for more with this man—thoughts, laughter, and above all, time.
When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine. “How do you feel right now?”
I lick my lips. “You expect me to form a coherent thought?”
“Then don’t think.” He brushes his thumb across my lower lip. “Just spend the day with me.”
“Doing what exactly?”
“Come see what harvest is really about. Bring your camera.”
I’m about to protest that I don’t want to interrupt the flow of his employees when he brushes another kiss across my lips. “Come on, Maya. I promise nothing about this will be more complicated than what you want it to be.”
Somehow I know he’s talking about more than the afternoon. But I’m already too invested to say no.