Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Dylan
An hour later, I’m on my couch in a pair of sweatpants while Eden sleeps in my bed.
I took her into the shower after we made love. I washed her under warm water as she hummed a song that we danced to the other night.
I stood and stared at her, basking in the rawness of her beauty, in the softness of her soul.
I’ve never met a better person than her.
She makes me want to be a better man.
I scoop the ring into my palm. I turn it to the left and then the right. The clear stones catch on the soft rays of light coming from the lamp in the corner.
Pride bubbled in my chest when I threw the winning touchdown during that game.
I looked over to see Coach on his feet, his hands in the air, and his beautiful daughter by his side.
She was only sixteen that day.
Too young for me to touch and too innocent to want to touch me.
She offered her palm in a high five when she hit the field in celebration with her dad. I curled my fingers around hers to savor the contact for just a few seconds.
Her eyes widened when I did it.
A flush of pink tainted the perfect skin of her cheeks. The color a match to the T-shirt she was wearing.
I knew that day that she had never been touched. I knew from the scowl on her dad’s face when he caught me with her hand in mine, that I wouldn’t be the guy who took her to bed for the first time.
He saw me as his son.
It was a line I couldn’t cross. My respect for him back then trumped my need for her.
He’s gone. She’s here, and I need to level the playing field.
“Hey.”
Her voice breaks through the memories. I turn to see her standing next to the couch. The band T-shirt covers her body.
I laugh. “I thought you hated that shirt.”
She skims the bottom hem with her fingers. “On you, I do. I kind of like it on me.”
“Keep it.”
Her head shakes, sending her long hair skimming over her shoulders. “I’d rather keep the jersey. We can negotiate for it, can’t we?”
I pat the couch next to me, wanting her beside me. “It’s yours.”
“Really?” She claps her hands together. “You don’t want it?”
All I want is her forgiveness and a chance to spend every day I have left on this earth with her.
I take in a deep breath, warning myself to slow the hell down.
There are too many factors at play. I can’t control it all, but I can control something.
She lowers herself to the couch, tucking one leg beneath her. I get a flash of the blue panties she was wearing earlier.
I could go at her again. I want to, but there’s something I want to do more. There’s something I need to do more.
‘The ring,” She looks down at my palm. “I remember the day you won it.”
This is it. This is the moment when I take the opportunity she’s unknowingly handing to me. I turn to face her, resting an arm over the back of the couch.
I stare at her face, knowing that she may never look at me like this again.
“Eden, I need to tell you something.”
Her brows pinch at the stress woven into my tone. “What is it?”
I suck in a long breath, hoping that it will calm me. It doesn’t work. “It’s about the night we graduated.”
Her expression lifts. “The night I found your ring.”
The night I let you down.
The need to touch her is strong, but I resist. I want her to process this on her terms, in her way. She doesn’t need to comfort me now. I’m the one who has to let her experience this and absorb it.
“You were never supposed to get in that car with Clark.”
Her eyes search my face. “What do you mean?”
This may very well be the defining moment of my life.
Coach is dead. I could keep this buried for eternity. I can’t be that man anymore.
Eden deserves better.
“Coach asked me to drive you home that night.” I keep my eyes pinned on her face. “I didn’t follow through. I let you down. I let your dad down.”
Time slows as she takes in each of my words. A string of emotions passes over her face. Surprise, then confusion. Finally, sadness settles there.
A tear wells in the corner of her eye. “You didn’t let me down. You didn’t let anyone down.”
“I sure as hell did,” I say without thinking, knowing that there’s a lot more to this story to tell.
I can’t spring it all on her at once. This is a starting point.
“Before I left for the party, my dad and I talked about how I would get home,” she says softly. “He brought you up.”
That’s news to me. When Coach asked me earlier that day to drive Eden home, he told me to keep it under wraps. He didn’t want her to think he was trying to control her every move.
“He was worried that Clark would drink too much beer.” She sighs. “When he picked me up that night, he promised my dad he wouldn’t drink. My dad told me I could go home with him as long as he didn’t have a drop.”
That explains why Clark had a bottle of water in his hand all night.
“You had to go to the airport.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Clark was sober. You didn’t let me down, Dylan.”
Relief should be washing over me, but there’s another chapter to this story that needs to be told.
“Let’s not talk about this now.” Her lips find mine.
I kiss her softly. “Eden.”
“Shh.” Her fingers skim over my mouth. “Less talking. More kissing.”
I nip at her fingers. “We can kiss later and talk more now.”
She brushes a path over my eyebrow with her thumb. “I have to go soon. I need to catch a flight in the morning.”
“Back to Buffalo?”
Her gaze drops. “Yes. Court at nine and then I’ll stop by my office there.”
Jealousy worms its way into my vision. I push it aside because I won’t waste the time I have with her talking about another man.
My questions about Chet Richmond need to be put on ice for now.
“When will you be back in Manhattan?”
“Tomorrow night,” she answers quickly. “I wouldn’t miss our court date for anything.”
That’s going to happen the day after tomorrow. I need to see her again before we go head-to-head to fight over the remains of the Alcesters’ shattered marriage.
“We’ll meet for dinner.”
I don’t phrase it as a question because I don’t want to give her the option of saying no.
“A drink?” she counters. “I have some prep I need to do before I beat you in court. I’ll meet you at the Tin Anchor at eight. Do you know it?”
I represented the owner of the pub in a custody case.
“I’ll be there at eight.”
She plants one last, long, lingering kiss on my mouth. “I need to get dressed.”
“I’ll help,” I offer, gliding a hand up her bare thigh.
“Why do I feel like you’re offering to undress me instead?”
“Because I am.”