Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Hey, angel.” I buried my face in Bryn’s neck, inhaling her warm, amber scent. “God. I missed you.”
As soon as the team plane had landed, I’d sped over to Bryn’s house. I’d been gone for three days, but it could’ve been three years for how long it felt. Texting and talking on the phone had helped, but I hated being away from Bryn.
I’d barely gotten through the door, and then she was there, jumping into my arms, kissing me. I’d laughed and held her tight, my bag still slung over my shoulder as we devoured each other, rediscovering each other until I cast my duffel aside.
She slid down my front, my cock jerking to attention at the feel of her in those damn yoga pants. She’d been taking dance classes again, and I loved watching her grow stronger each week. But all I wanted to do right now was hold her. Her arms were wrapped around me, her cheek pressed to my chest.
“I missed you too,” she sighed. “So much.”
I didn’t want to let her go, but the dogs were pawing at my legs, begging for my attention. I cupped Bryn’s cheeks and gave her a quick peck before brushing her hair away from her face. And then I paused. Frowned.
Now that I’d taken a closer look at Bryn, she seemed exhausted. When we’d talked last night, she’d seemed fine. Same thing the night before. But the dark circles beneath her eyes spoke to a string of sleepless nights. I guided her over to the couch, pulling her into my lap.
“You look tired. Are you feeling okay?”
“I didn’t sleep well last night. I’ll be fine,” she said, but she didn’t sound convinced. I definitely wasn’t.
“Talk to me, Bryn,” I said in a gentle tone. When she tried to get up, I caged her in my arms. “Angel, please. Tell me what’s going on.”
She was silent for a moment, then she said, “Being away from you was harder than I expected.”
“It sucked.” I’d totally underestimated just how difficult it was for the guys on the team to be apart from their significant others.
“And I’m scared,” she whispered. When she met my gaze, it was with tears in her eyes. The effect was devastating. She was devastating. “I’m terrified because I’m so happy.” She choked on a sob. “I’m so happy with you, and I’m scared of losing you.”
I cupped her cheek, drying her tear with my thumb. “Bryn.”
I didn’t know what else to say. Her fears were understandable, considering what she’d been through. And I wasn’t willing to make a promise I couldn’t keep. Because none of us could guarantee that we’d be here tomorrow.
But I also couldn’t sit back and do nothing. I held her, trying to comfort her while brainstorming possible solutions. I’d tried to check in regularly during the trip. I’d shared my location with her on my phone. But I knew that no matter what I did, that fear might never go away, not completely.
“I’m glad you told me,” I said.
“I didn’t want to.” She tugged at the corners of her eyes.
I pulled back to look at her. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want you to be distracted this season. And we have so little time together lately, and I don’t want to spend it on…this.” She frowned.
“Angel.” I held her chin. “I’m just happy to be with you. I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to hold back or hide what you’re feeling. Not with me.”
“I know.” A tear slipped out, tracing its way down her cheek before I caught it with my thumb. “It just…” She sucked in a jagged breath. “I just want to be happy and live life. I was making such good progress. I was doing so well.”
I nodded, understanding her frustration. Her disappointment. I brushed her hair away from her face, wishing I could take away her pain. “Have you talked to your therapist about it?”
“Yeah. And she reminded me that grief and healing are nonlinear. We worked on some coping strategies to calm my anxiety when you have to travel.”
“That’s good,” I said. “I’m glad you reached out for support.”
I wasn’t surprised that Bryn had felt triggered by my trip.
I’d tried to check in when I could, but perhaps I’d underestimated how difficult this would be for her.
I hated it for her. Hated that every time we were apart for a night, she worried that something would happen to me, like it had happened to Derek.
“Is there something I can do to make it easier on you?” I asked, knowing this would continue to be an issue.
The team was on the road a lot. We had forty-one away games during the regular season, and we were usually gone more than one night.
But even if I didn’t have a job that involved travel, this fear would probably always be there, given what she’d experienced.
Hopefully, with time, it would get easier for Bryn.
For now, I would do whatever it took to help her through this. Flying her to every away game wasn’t feasible with her job, not to mention the dogs, her garden, and her dance classes. But maybe she could come to some of the out-of-town games.
“Come to my next away game,” I said. “Come watch us play in Seattle.”
“I’d love to, but…” She hesitated, and I took that as my opening to persuade her.
“The game is on a Saturday. You could fly up that morning. After the game, I’ll sneak you into my room.” I waggled my brows.
She laughed, and I could tell she was considering it. But then she said, “As much as I love that idea, it doesn’t solve the issue of all the other away games. I won’t always be able to attend.”
I knew that, but I also hoped this might help ease us into the transition of my being away.
“Bryn.” I cupped her cheek. “I know that, but I’d do anything to spend time with you. And I’d do anything to take away your fears, even if only temporarily.”
She kissed me. It was slow and tender, but it quickly turned passionate. Possessive. Hands and teeth and tongues. A claiming.
“Is that a yes?” I asked when we eventually broke apart.
“It’s a maybe,” she said, shifting so she was straddling me. “Can I think about it?” She swept my hair away from my face.
“Of course.” I kissed her temple. “Just know that I’d love having you there.”
She gnawed on her lip, and I could see the hesitation written across her features. I wanted to understand the reasons behind it, but more than anything, I wanted to assuage her fears.
“Are you worried someone will recognize you?” I asked.
“Actually—” She laughed, wiggling tantalizingly on my rapidly hardening cock. “I was thinking it might be time to launch our relationship.”
“Mm.” I grasped her chin, trying not to get my hopes up. All these months, I’d been letting her take the lead. I’d been trying not to push, but I was ready. I’d been ready. And her suggestion was making me even harder. “Is that so?”
She nodded, smiling as she ground against me. Bryn had been subtly posting pictures on her social media for months now. But this was the first time she’d given any indication that she was ready to go public with our relationship.
“What’s responsible for this change of heart?” I asked.
Bryn lifted her shoulder, a sort of nervous-playful energy coursing through her. “It’s time.”
Before I could delve into that, Bacon whined, pawing at the back door.
Damn.
Bryn groaned and moved to stand, but I said, “I’ll go.”
“I should start dinner.” She slid off me, but not before giving me one more kiss.
I stood, adjusting myself before removing my button-down shirt. When I glanced over at her, she was watching me with a dazed expression.
“Right. Dinner.” She nearly tripped over the rug on the way to the kitchen, and I tried not to laugh. “I’m going to work on dinner.”
I took the dogs out to the backyard, marveling at the lush space Bryn had created.
It was welcoming and vibrant—full of life.
I threw a ball to the dogs a few times and then gave them a cuddle before we headed back inside.
Bryn was standing at the counter chopping vegetables, and I stood there a moment just watching her.
The sun drifted through the window, dust motes floating in the air. She hummed softly to herself as she prepared the items for dinner. I smiled, feeling more at home and at peace than I had maybe ever.
She glanced up and caught me looking at her. She flashed me a lopsided grin, knife still in hand. “What?”
I stepped closer, and it felt as if my heart was going to burst out of my rib cage to get to her. “I love you.”
It wasn’t elaborate or planned, but it was genuine and heartfelt. And saying it felt more natural than holding it in any longer.
“I know.” Bryn set down the knife and wiped her hands on the towel.
I chuckled, some of the tension easing out of me. “Okay, Han Solo.”
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she came over to me. “I didn’t mean for it to sound cocky. I meant…” She draped her arms around my neck. “I meant that I feel your love. Every day. Because you’re always there, quietly supporting me. Loving me.”
I nodded, tilting my forehead to her. She used to believe that she’d already had her love story, but I hoped that was no longer the case. I hoped she’d realized that she could find love again—with me.
“And I love you. Not,” she added, toying with the hair at the nape of my neck, “because of what you do for me. But I love you because of who you are. Because of how I feel when I’m with you.”
I felt as if I were floating, relieved and so fucking happy. And then I hauled her into my arms, kissing her as I made my way toward the stairs. I planned to spend the rest of the night showing Bryn just how much I loved her.
Bryn stood in the entryway with Bacon and Biscuit, ready to send me off. She’d agreed to come to my away game, and it was the first game she’d be attending for me. Not for Derek. Not to represent his legacy. But because we were together. And now, everyone would know it.
She’d posted a picture the other night of the two of us and our dogs. And the internet had flipped out. The post had gone viral, and Kylie had been fielding requests for interviews from everyone hosting podcasts about navigating grief to morning shows.