Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
T he bar smelled like citrus and cedar-wood, the fancy cocktail menu trying to class up what was essentially a high-end sports pub.
TVs hung silent over the dark wood paneling, looping highlights from European matches, and the leather booths were deep and worn in.
Late afternoon Portland rain tapped at the big front windows, casting a soft gray haze over everything. Matching Diego’s mood.
He took a long pull of his beer and watched the city blur through the glass. His phone buzzed on the table. Again.
A third message from Muriel about the fitting for his wedding outfit. Shaking his head, he switched over to read the string of texts that Kash had been sending him all day yesterday and today.
Got the sparkly shoes for Tia. Your credit card’s taking the hit.
Your mom just asked me if I know any hot nurses to set you up with.
She specifically said no doctors.
Apparently a doctor would be too busy to give you the time and attention you deserve.
Diego laughed at her long, grammatically correct texts, then scrolled down.
Muriel says you’re in charge of the open bar on the big day. Good luck.
Hey, you didn’t block my #, did you?
The texts are delivered. So prbly not.
Will you be home for dinner tonight?
Tia wants to know.
I’ll save you some of the tandoori chicken.
It’s not too spicy but perfect.
Hey, everything okay between us?
If it’s not, I’ll give you space.
But I’m here. If you want to talk.
Dr. Shah on call for you!
OMG, that sounds so cringe...too late to delete tho.
Like a besotted fool, he stared at the screen, re-reading her words like there was a hidden code inside. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
She was texting him, checking in. He could read the anxiety peeking through every text. She was worried he was mad. That he’d shut her out after what she’d said. Which, to give Kash credit, had been just the truth. She couldn’t lie, even to make things better for herself.
The ache in her eyes when she’d talked about her dad had tormented him for the rest of the evening. Even back then, she hadn’t been allowed to be a child.
The fact that she was kind of hyperventilating over him—even a little—felt absurdly amazing.
He didn't text back. Let her squirm for once. Although, he felt bad—he didn’t want to cause her even a sliver of pain.
“Jesus, kid. You got more silent sighs in that face than a whole goalkeeper lineup.”
Diego looked up as Hector Zamora, or simply Coach, slid into the booth across from him. Grayer now, thicker in the middle, but still sharp-eyed. Still watching him like a hawk.
The man had taken a chance on him when Diego was just sixteen, fresh into the youth team and cocky as hell. Gave him his first real shot. And now he was here in Portland, considering semi-retirement, last Diego had heard.
He had seized on the opportunity falling into his lap at the perfect moment.
“Sorry,” Diego muttered. “Head’s a little crowded.”
Coach nodded, waving over the server. “We’re all allowed a little fog. So, walk me through this thing again. You’ve got a team assembled, you’ve got Muriel’s money smarts, you’ve got the property?—”
“And the permits.” Diego smirked faintly. “Which were the worst part.”
Coach grunted in approval. “And you’re looking to train kids who can’t pay their way in. Make it merit-based?”
“Yeah. I want raw talent. Kids who get passed over because they didn’t show up in the right zip code.”
Coach sipped his old-fashioned. “You always were a bleeding heart. Glad to see you’re still giving a shit even after leaving the game.”
Diego let himself smile. “You in?”
“Half-retired. Still got a foot in Europe, but I’d love to offload the travel crap. Let me know if you want an old fool doing admin and scouting for you. No flights longer than six hours, though.”
“Done.”
They clinked glasses. The warmth from the bourbon chased away the chill in Diego’s chest. For a second.
“You miss it?” Coach asked.
He didn’t have to ask what it meant. To his own surprise, Diego shook his head. “No. I thought I would. But I don’t.”
Coach studied him for a moment. “Because you’re building something new and bigger. Because you’ve got a kid now. Because... something else?”
Diego exhaled through his nose and leaned back, one hand running down his face. “It’s Tia’s aunt.”
A slow grin spread across Coach’s face. “The one who’s nothing like Kat.”
“Did I say that?” Diego asked.
Coach nodded. “A long while ago.”
“She’s... everything,” Diego said, almost to himself. “And she won’t even admit we have something. Says it’s just sex. Keeps it locked down. And I can’t—” He stopped, shook his head. “The worst part is we’re committed to Tia, which means we’re always going to be in each other’s lives.”
“It’s not just a passing fancy?” Coach said, watching him carefully. “A way to lock her down along with Tia?”
“Of course not,” Diego said, hating even the idea.
“Don’t bite my head off, kid,” Coach said, chuckling. “You were always a relationship guy rather than a player.”
“Kash isn’t a convenience or a phase or an itch. She’s beautiful, strong, caring. She’s mine. Or should be.”
“I see. So you want to build a life with her?”
“Yes, Spend the rest of my life looking after her, loving her. As she deserves to be.” The words rolled off his tongue easily.
Saying it out loud hit different too. Like it couldn’t be contained anymore. Like it was out there in the universe, becoming a part of everything else.
The moment he realized he was in love with her, every little resentment and complaint had come surging up. As if he had a right to expect things from her.
Her lack of trust all these years was one thing. But her judgement of his character still stung. That she didn’t question Kat’s version of events even now. And yeah, it was unfair to expect that. Ridiculous even, given the painful history with her father.
Coach tilted his glass. “You know what doesn’t suit you, Ferrara?”
Diego raised a brow. “What?”
“This brooding shit. You were never the guy who moped on the bench. You were the one who took the damn shot or at least made a clown of yourself trying. So why are you sitting here waiting for her to shut you down before even taking the shot?”
“I don’t want to scare her off.” He threw back the rest of his drink. “You know what the worst part is? She might never need me like I need her. Not once she feels whole and free.”
“You’re playing not to lose,” Coach said, slamming the table. “That’s not you. You said she’s strong? Fierce?”
Diego nodded.
“And she likes how you handle her—ahem—on the field?”
Diego gave him a look, flushing slightly. “Coach?—”
“I don’t need the details. Been married thirty years however, so I know that part is important. Anyway, listen. If she’s half the fighter you say she is, then show her what she stands to lose if you walk away.”
“I don’t want to manipulate her,” Diego said.
“You’re too honorable for this shit, kid,” Coach said, with thundering laughter. “I was on the phone with your Mama not a week ago and she was asking me if I knew of any eligible ladies for her soccer star.”
Burying his face in his hands, Diego groaned. Ever since Muriel had begun her manic wedding prep, his mother was extra motivated about getting him hitched.
“Use your Mama’s eagerness to get you settled as fuel. Ask Muriel to invite a couple of her friends. You know the pushy, handsy ones that always liked you, even before your star blew up?”
“Make Kash jealous, you mean?” Diego asked.
“No, make her see what she’s got to lose. Let her fight for you,” Coach said, eyes sharp. “Maybe that’s the way this has to go down with her, you know? Instead of going to your knees and asking her, you let her claim you.”
Diego sat back, the gears in his mind turning. The weight on his chest lingered, but the air felt clearer somehow. The idea of Kash claiming him made his knees weak, his breath short.
“That’s an idea,” he said slowly.
Coach clinked their glasses again. “Now that’s the kid I trained. Go play the damn game.”
* * *
The house had gone quiet, finally.
It was just past midnight on Tuesday, before Kaif and Muriel’s wedding on Sunday. Kash had worked a long shift at the hospital—mostly admin and a late consult that had dragged on.
As she sat curled on the worn sectional in the front lounge, dressed in soft sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, the night pressed up against the big picture window beside her. The dim table lamp cast a honeyed glow across the room. Her tea had gone cold long ago.
She hadn’t meant to wait for Diego to come home. But here she was. Something in her refused to settle without talking to him.
It had been two days since the incident with Josh and their subsequent ‘fight’, if it could be called that, and she was certain he was avoiding her.
He hadn’t answered a single one of her stupid, desperate texts. Both related and unrelated to the wedding.
And now, she was regretting taking the rest of the week—leading to the wedding—off. Not if he was going to barely look at her.
Surprisingly enough, his anger didn’t feel like an unwanted weight. Whether casual dating or a serious relationship, she’d always been the one to keep chugging away at what needed to be done, without wasting time on hurt feelings, hers or her partner’s. Maybe because she’d never trusted them enough.
Maybe because she had assumed that something about her would make them leave.
Even with Simon, it had been one version of her that she had let him see.
With Diego though, everything felt upside down, inside out. Like his anger with her was also a sort of claim on her, even if he hadn’t let it spill. Like he had some, unnamed expectation of her that she wanted to fulfill with every fiber of her being.
She wanted to clear the air and cajole him, make it up to him. Make him happy. Which was a strange concept for her, one she had no clue where to begin. She knew how to be responsible for someone else, both adult and child. How to shield them from the world’s ills.
It was only with Tia, who had stolen her heart as a minutes-old baby she’d held to her chest while Kat had been out of it, that she fully opened her heart. And to make a child happy—all one needed to do was to love them unconditionally.
But how did one go about making a grown man happy? A man who had everything he could ever want—millions to boot apparently—and needed nothing from her.
A sudden visual of him fucking her mouth came at her and she shook her head. Sex, as glorious as it was with Diego, wasn’t the answer she was looking for. She needed to do something, anything, to show him?—
The front door opened with the faintest creak. She stiffened, pulse quickening.
Rain misted in behind Diego before he shut it. A gust of cold air curled around her bare ankles.
He stood there, broad shoulders framed in the soft hallway light while his face lay in shadows. Jet-black hair shone with beads of rain, shirt slightly damp with drizzle, the sleeves shoved up to reveal his forearms.
Even in the relative dark, she felt his gaze land on her as if it were a laser beam, pulling her into a different gravity. “Is something wrong? With Tia?”
Kash shot to her feet, the fluffy blanket around her unraveling as quickly as she was. “No. Just couldn’t sleep.”
His jaw tightened.
“I mean, I didn’t want to go to bed without seeing you. I know I texted a lot and bugged you and—” she hesitated at his remote expression. “Just to make sure everything was okay between us. I wasn’t like waiting to ask you for…” her cheeks heated as she completely lost the plot. “For like sex or anything. I mean, not that I would say no if you?—”
The words died in her throat as he walked toward her, more and more of his features illuminated by the night lamp next to the couch.
Something hungry and hot flickered across his face. “You wouldn’t?”
“No.”
“If all I want tonight is to fuck you until my brain glitches, without a word, you wouldn’t say no?”
Kash stared at the sharp cut of his jaw. The way his rain-damp curls clung to his forehead. The wild thrum inside her chest rose so fast it made her dizzy. “I wouldn’t say no,” she said, her stomach flipping over and over.
When he reached her, he held out his hand.
She grabbed it so fast that she nearly smacked herself in the face with it. Her fingers closed around his.
She lifted them to her mouth, the warmth from his powerful frame embracing her. His fingers tasted of rain and smoke and whiskey as Kash kissed the tips.
“You said no words, but I have to say this. So that you can have me however you want.” She leaned in and the slight graze of his stubbled cheeks against hers made her toes curl. “You have blanket consent for anything, Diego. For tonight. For any other night. You could barely wake me up in the middle of the night before you thrust that big, beautiful cock inside me and I’ll still enjoy it. I’ll still want it. I’ll still crave for more, for you.”
If Kash thought her big declaration would get her something in return—even one of his taunts—she’d have been disappointed.
He was in a strange mood.
But he had still come to her and that was more than enough.