Chapter Twenty
The Weight of the World
Carter
It was a funny thing, being on break in the middle of the season.
I knew how to relax in the summer. I knew how to go on a vacation, golf with the guys, or spend an entire day on the water without a care in the world. When it was offseason, I could easily turn things… off — my brain, my body, my routine.
But in the middle of a season where we were in a race for the playoffs, I found it impossible.
I decided to stick to as much of a routine as possible. Instead of practice in the mornings, I woke up around six to jog or hit the bike. I got soft tissue work done and worked through any physical therapy I needed. Once a week, I went to Doctor Arman.
But every day there was this gap — the place where practice or travel or a game would typically go.
There was no practicing on break — league’s orders — and so I filled that time as best I could.
I did go for a round of golf with the guys, which was fun, especially since Aleks still really sucked and we all got to make fun of him for a few hours.
One day, I cleaned my house top to bottom. I had a housekeeper, but I really dug in, organizing and decluttering and all the things that usually went ignored during the season.
I took Zamboni on long walks around the Bay, everywhere from the Riverwalk to the Fort De Soto dog beach.
But most of the time those first five days of break?
I thought of Livia.
She was the first thing that popped into my head in the morning, and the last on my mind before I drifted off to sleep each night.
I saw her sultry eyes in the shower, felt her any time I wrapped up in a towel or blanket, smelled her when I lit a candle — vanilla and jasmine.
I heard her smoky voice on replay without trying, all the words she’d said to me the night I surrendered to her in a way I never thought I could.
“No one turns me on like you do. You know that? No one does this for me the way you do.”
I tortured myself wondering if it had just been talk; if she’d just been praising me as part of the play, or if she’d meant it.
Because if she did…
It lit me on fire to think so, to think that I could be something more to that woman than just a project and a paycheck.
Her sporadic texts had fed me in the days of not seeing her, though I wished for more. But two nights ago, the texts had stopped, all the banter gone and my patience along with it.
I had to see her.
And so, I found myself “coincidently nearby” her dental practice on Wednesday afternoon, about ten minutes before I knew she’d be done for the day.
She’d mentioned in an offhand comment during our date night that she took a half day in the middle of the week, letting her partner take over while she got caught up on admin or just fucked off for the day.
I hoped with everything I had in me that she was in the mood to do the latter.
The glass doors whispered shut behind me as I entered, the cool blast of air-conditioning cutting the humid sting of the afternoon. The faint smell of mint and something floral floated in the air, a perfect mask for the tang of antiseptic underneath.
Soft piano music played over hidden speakers, barely loud enough to compete with the gentle hum of a water feature in the corner. The reception desk gleamed white and gold, like it belonged in a luxury hotel lobby, and every chair in the waiting area looked too nice to actually sit in.
“Mr. Fabri,” Tasha said with a warm smile that morphed into a polite frown as she glanced at her monitor. She wore her usual fitted blazer over a silk blouse, nails painted a pearly nude. “I don’t see an appointment for you today…”
“I’m here to see Liv,” I said easily, or at least I tried to. My tongue tripped on the next part. “As a… friend.”
My heart rebelled at the use of that word, but I tamed it with a swallow and a straightening of my spine.
Tasha’s brows ticked up, but she reached for the phone on her desk. “One moment.” She murmured into the receiver, glancing at me with a knowing smirk I wasn’t sure I liked, then set it back in its cradle. “She’ll see you. Come on back.”
The hallway was hushed except for the faint whir of something mechanical in one of the closed operatories we passed.
The scent of mint got sharper the deeper we went.
I couldn’t help but look around the office with new eyes.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t been there plenty of times before, but I knew the woman behind the name more now, and I felt invigorated being in the place she spent so much of her time, in the practice she dreamed of opening for so long.
Tasha led me to the far corner office with a glass wall, blinds half-drawn. Through the slats, I caught a glimpse of Livia at her desk.
Her bun was sleek and perfect, every strand locked into place.
And that was the only thing about her that looked composed.
Her white coat hung on the back of her chair; the satin rose sleeves of her blouse rolled to her elbows as she scribbled notes over a stack of patient charts. Her jaw was tight, her brows pinched together, shoulders hunched over like they carried the weight of the world.
She didn’t look up right away when Tasha let me in and closed the door behind her as she exited. Livia appeared to be too focused on whatever was in front of her. And for a second, I just stood there in the doorway, feeling the knot in my chest tighten at the sight of her.
“Hello, Doctor.”
And even though Tasha had called ahead of my entrance, Livia still jumped as if I’d knocked a stack of books to the ground rather than greeted her in a soft, even-keeled voice.
She looked up at me and sighed like she was annoyed by my presence or her reaction to it or both. “What are you doing here?”
I crossed to the chair on the other side of her desk and took a seat, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee as I recited the words I’d acted out in my head a dozen times now.
“Well, I was just in the area, and I remembered that you had a half day on Wednesdays. I thought I’d come by and say hi. ”
She blinked at me, eyes drifting to where I’d crossed my legs before they found my gaze again. “By all means, make yourself comfortable.”
“I brought cookies,” I said, holding up the brown box in my hand. “Bake’n Babes. You said they were your favorite, yeah?”
Livia softened, just marginally, like she was surprised I remembered. And then she shook her head, getting right back to the task in front of her. “I don’t have time for this, Carter.”
“You don’t have time for a Fruity Pebbles cookie?” I mused, pulling one from the box. “Because I have sources that say it’s impossible to be stressed with one of these in your mouth.”
“Who says I’m stressed?”
It was my turn to blink at her. “Oh. Yeah. My apologies. You don’t seem stressed at all.”
She glared at me for half a second, and then her shoulders deflated, and she sank back in her chair, flicking her pen onto the desk and pinching the bridge of her nose. She sat like that for a moment before thrusting her other hand out toward me and gesturing for the cookie.
I grinned in victory as I handed it to her.
When she unwrapped the monstrous thing, she took a bite so large it didn’t make sense biologically for her mouth, and then she moaned, sinking farther into her chair.
“Besh fuhgging cookiesh eveh.”
I chuckled. “I’m sure I agree with whatever you just said.” I paused, frowning at the exhaustion that settled in on her face as she took another bite. “Busy week, I take it?”
She shrugged. “Not busy, per se, but hectic. I had back-to-back complex crown or bridge cases that both needed unexpected adjustments. One of our VIP clients insisted on a same-day slot, despite how we insisted that it would be impossible.”
“One of my teammate’s wives, perhaps?”
She didn’t answer, but the look she gave me told me I’d hit the nail on the head. I chuckled.
“And I’ve been avoiding my part of the end-of-year reporting, but now have no choice but to tackle it if we’re going to file on time.” She took another bite of the cookie, letting her head fall back against her chair. “And I’m just so… tired.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Not sleeping well?”
“Not with my mother calling me every night.”
I stiffened at the mention of her mother.
We hadn’t talked about her family much since the night of our date.
She’d mentioned that the drama was still hanging around at the game before we went to her place last week, but she’d made it clear she didn’t want to discuss it, that what she needed was a distraction.
Was her telling me this now an invitation to ask questions?
Because I had a billion of them.
“Your sister’s wedding,” I mused.
Livia nodded.
“Are you ever going to tell me why this is such an issue, you attending one of the biggest days of your sister’s life?”
Livia strained with the effort to bring her head upright again. “It’s a boring and tragic story.”
“I like tragedies. Big Romeo and Juliet fan here. And I think it should be up to me to decide if it’s boring or not.”
She groaned, shaking her head as she wrapped up the rest of the cookie and set it on her desk. “I don’t know, Carter. I’m not really the talking type.”
“Maybe you could try it. For me,” I added.
Stupidly.
Like this woman would be tempted to do anything for my sake alone.
For a moment, Livia seemed to consider it. But she shook her head again and picked up her pen. “Not today.”
I couldn’t fight the flood of disappointment that overtook me, but I battled through the rush of water, undeterred.
“That’s fine,” I said, standing. I rounded her desk and took her pen from her hand.
“Hey!”
“But I think you’re done working for today.”
She cocked a brow at my audacity, the Domme inside her firing up instantly. “Oh, is that so, Rookie? Since when do you call the shots?”
“Since I walked into this office and saw my girl stretched past her limits and drowning.”
Livia opened her mouth, but her brows softened, and not a single word came out.
“Nothing has changed. You’re still the one who leads when it comes to us. But…” I leaned a hip against her desk, close enough to catch the faint trace of her perfume. “Maybe you could let me take the wheel for a little while — just enough to get you out of your head.”
Her eyes narrowed, but not in that sharp, cut-me-down way she had. This was softer. Cautious. “You want me to… give you control?”
“Not all of it,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Just a piece. Give me the part of your world that’s weighing you down right now. Let me carry it for you for the rest of the day. I’m not here to boss you around. I just…” I trailed off, shrugging. “I just want to help you breathe again.”
For a long moment, she studied me, her pen still laying where I’d set it down. I could see the war happening behind her eyes — one side all logic and walls, the other tempted by the promise of letting someone else hold the rope for once.
Finally, she tilted her head. “What do you have in mind?”
The way she asked it wasn’t pure suspicion. There was a thread of curiosity in there, too.
I grinned. “I guess you’ll have to say yes to find out.”