Chapter 12 Roman #2
His eyes opened. Dark. Unfocused.
"I'm here," I said again.
Something cracked in his expression. For a second. His mouth opened as if he were going to say something—my name, maybe—but then he closed his eyes again and buried his face against my neck.
His rhythm turned erratic. He was close.
I stroked myself while he fucked me. The pressure built fast and sharp. My breath came in gasps.
"Fuck—Roman—"
He came hard, hips jerking, a primal sound tearing from his throat—raw and broken, like something he'd been holding back for weeks.
It pushed me over. I came between us, spilling cum across my stomach and chest.
Grady collapsed against me. Dead weight. Breathing hard, like he'd just finished a triple shift.
I wrapped my arms around him and held on.
I felt the exact moment his control began rebuilding itself. His shoulders tensed, and his breathing evened out.
He pulled out carefully and rolled to the side. Dealt with the condom. Lay on his back, staring at the ceiling shadows.
I turned my head to look at him. Reached over and touched his arm.
He flinched. Surprised. Like he'd forgotten I was there.
I didn't move for a while. Just lay there with my hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles.
"You want to tell me what that was about?" I asked quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"That," I gestured between us. "This. You've been somewhere else all night."
His jaw tensed. "I'm right here."
"No. You're not."
Grady turned his head to look at me. He looked at me with guarded eyes. Distant. The same look he wore when reporters asked questions he didn't want to answer.
"We just had sex, Roman. I'm pretty sure I was present for that."
"Physically, yeah." I kept my voice steady. "But you weren't with me. Not really."
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His back was to me with his shoulders tight.
"Something changed," I said. "After the game. After the scrum. You heard those questions and you—"
"I invited you here," he said, cutting me off. "That's not pulling away."
"No. It's not." I sat up, pulling the sheet across my lap. "But it's not pulling closer either."
He stood. Crossed to the dresser and pulled out a pair of boxer briefs. Put them on without looking at me.
He ran a hand over his face. When he spoke again, his voice was softer.
"You handled that media scrum well tonight."
"Grady—"
"I mean it. Those questions weren't easy. You could've said the wrong thing. But you didn't."
"I meant what I said. I'm not chasing your job."
"I know."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yeah."
The way he said it—flat and neutral—made my stomach drop.
I stood and crossed the room until I was standing in front of him.
"Then what's this about? Why does it feel like you're bracing for something?"
"You're reading into things."
"Am I? Every time someone mentions next season, you look at me like—"
"Like what?"
"Like I'm already gone."
Silence. He looked away and walked to the window, pulling the curtains back just enough to see the city lights below.
"You came to Chicago for a reason," he said finally.
"Yeah. I did."
"For the team. For the opportunity."
I stared at his back. "That's not what I said."
"You said you came for me." He didn't turn around. "But you also said you stayed for the team. Both things are true. That's what you told Seb."
"They are both true."
He let the curtain fall and turned to face me. "So when the captaincy comes, and you get what you came here for, the first reason will stop being true. You'll stay for the second."
The realization hit me. He wasn't afraid I'd leave. He was scared I only wanted him because of what he represented.
Access. The captaincy. Stardom.
"Grady, that's not—"
"It makes sense, Roman." His voice was calm. "You needed a team that would bet on you. A captain who understood what you could do and would leave the position vacant soon. I'm giving that to you. And now you're becoming exactly what you were supposed to become."
"You think I'm with you because you're captain?"
"I think you were drawn to what I had. What I could offer." He shrugged slightly. "That's not a criticism. It's context."
Context.
No choice.
He'd rewritten the entire story. Taken my confession in the hallway—I came to Chicago for you—and filtered it through his lens of ambition and power. Stripped it of everything I'd actually meant.
Of course he came for me. I was the captain.
That's what he believed now. It was what tonight was about.
No connection or trust.
Proof he was still on top.
Literally.
"You're wrong," I said.
"Maybe."
"I didn't come here because you're captain. I came here because two years ago, you looked at me like I was already everything I needed to be." I stopped. Took a breath. "Not potential. Not a bet on the future. Already enough. Exactly as I was."
He watched me and didn't interrupt.
"The captaincy?" I continued. "The team? That's all real, too. But it's not why I'm here in your bedroom."
"Roman—"
"You don't believe me," I breathed. "You think when the transition happens, I'll move on. That what I feel for you can't be separated from what you can give me."
The silence that followed was heavier than anything Grady could say.
I grabbed my jeans off the floor. Started getting dressed.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Home."
"You don't have to—"
"Yeah. I do." I pulled my shirt over my head and found my jacket. "If I stay, you're going to keep thinking this is enough. That sex and silence are the same thing as being together."
I walked down the hall and across the living room to the door. Stopped with my hand on the handle.
"For what it's worth?" I looked back at him. "I don't want your captaincy. I don't want your job. I only want you."
His expression didn't change, but his hand twitched toward me before dropping back to his side.
"I'll see you at practice," I said.
The elevator ride down felt twice as long as going up.
I walked through the lobby. Past the doorman, who didn't look up. Out into the cold.
After putting it in drive, I gripped the steering wheel of my car. Buildings streamed by. Elegant Chicago architecture. The streetlights bathed everything in gold.
I pounded the steering wheel when the realization hit. I was falling in love with Grady.
He didn't believe it, and I couldn't prove him wrong. Not with words or patience.
I drove through the city in silence and understood something I'd been avoiding since Denver.
Loving Grady Volkov would not be a sprint. It was going to be the longest shift of my life.