Chapter 19
Sam
MY BODY IS a little sore this morning, but it makes me smile. I know we shouldn’t have done it – it was dangerous and reckless – but I can’t make myself regret it.
And I might regret that loss of regret, but…not yet.
I didn’t go up to his office for that to happen. But when he pulled me to him and I felt him hard against me, I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I’d spent too much time wondering. Too much time wanting and literally dreaming about him. So I didn’t stop it.
And the look on his face when I said the very thing I knew he was already thinking?
Priceless.
After a shower to wash the sleep away and a protein smoothie, I put on my usual uniform of leggings and scrub shirt, grab the smoothies, and make my way over to Ollie’s apartment.
You ready, little brother?
…
I watch the dots with a touch of amusement. When no answer comes, I type again.
Whose car is in your visitor spot?
None of your business.
Mmm, interesting. Male or female?
Also none of your business.
I grin.
So am I calling a rideshare and giving the driver this extra smoothie?
Ollie responds with a thumbs up, so I open the rideshare app.
The extra smoothie is still good by the time I get to the office, thanks to the cup I used. And since I’m feeling generous – two incredible orgasms will do that to a girl – I take the stairs up to Colin’s office instead of heading down to the workout facility.
I wave to Neesha when she glances up from her desk as I pass by. “Nice hair,” I tell her, pointing to the braids she’s rocking.
“Wig,” she says with a wink. “Much easier that way.”
I laugh. “I believe it.” I continue down the hall to the office at the end, already able to see his shadow from where he must be looking down at the pitch.
He startles at my knock, his face unreadable. “Sam?”
I raise the cup in my hand. “Smoothie?”
His forehead relaxes. “Oh. Um.”
I keep going. “I usually make an extra smoothie for Ollie but he was, ah, busy this morning and I took a rideshare in, and I didn’t know what to do with the extra so I thought you might want it. But never –”
“Thank you,” he interrupts. “That was thoughtful.”
I stare at him, then lower my voice. “Your face was between my thighs yesterday. Why are you being weird?”
He coughs, red splotches appearing above his beard as he pounds his chest.
I grin. “You okay there, Coach?”
He tries to glare at me, but all it does is make me smile wider. Finally, he calms down and exhales. “What’s in it?”
“Strawberries, banana, protein powder, chia seeds, a little Greek yogurt and honey to pull it all together. Want it?”
“I can’t.”
My face falls. I didn’t expect the outright rejection. Which is stupid. Why did I come up here?
He takes a step toward me, then seems to stop himself and reverse. “I mean, I’m allergic. To strawberries.” He shrugs. “Not that I wouldn’t love it. Thank you.”
I catch a whiff of his beard oil, a scent that I couldn’t have catalogued as intensely before yesterday. Eucalyptus and mint. The smell is heady, calming and energizing all at the same time. I find myself wanting a candle so I can have the scent any time.
Realization slams into me like an eighteen-wheeler. What we did yesterday actually meant something to me. I didn’t want it to, but it did. But Colin? He’s acting like it meant absolutely nothing to him.
As though I mean nothing to him. I’m an itch he needed to scratch, and now that he’s fucked me, he’s done. I’m an inconvenience.
What was that whimsical little thought I had about regret this morning? I clamber for it. I can’t regret it. I won’t regret it. I won’t give him that satisfaction.
He must see everything play out on my face, because he frowns. “Sam.”
I hold up my free hand. “Don’t.” I close my eyes, willing myself to forget the sorrowful expression he’s wearing. “My mistake. Clearly.” My voice cracks on the last word, and I’m pissed at myself for showing the vulnerability.
“Sam, I –”
If he says more, I don’t hear it. Because I’ve whirled away and am hauling down the hallway.
The rest of the day is a blur. I meet with my boss and formulate a plan for the beginning of the season, looking at the travel schedule and nodding in numb agreement at whatever he’s saying.
I lead a late afternoon yoga session for staff, a perk I began offering when I first started and has quickly become something the staff really look forward to.
And when the players descend into the room, I do my job, working to stretch one while encouraging another to put more weight on the machine.
The next day, I do it again. And the day after. And when Ollie asks me what’s wrong, I brush it off, telling him I’m on my period.
Kari pulls me out of the office for lunch on Friday, and once our meals are in front of us – Caesar salad for her, grilled chicken and steamed broccoli for me – she points her fork at my plate.
“Spill.”
I pop a piece of broccoli into my mouth and chew. “Spill what?”
“You’re eating the saddest meal on the planet and you’ve been moping around all week. What did he do?”
“Who says he did anything?”
A triumphant smile appears on her face. “That right there. He absolutely did something. Do I need to have a talk with him?”
I cut another piece of my sad chicken – she’s not wrong there – and eat it. When it’s clear that Kari will wait me out, I fold. “Fine. We had sex –”
“You what?” she hisses, her eyes going round.
I gesture at her. “This is why I didn’t say anything.”
She blows her bangs out of her face and attempts to rearrange her shock. “Sorry. Let me try again. Continue.”
I tilt my head. “If we’re going to talk about this, then I need my friend in front of me. Not the PR specialist for the Granite.”
She nods. “You have me.”
I raise a brow. “Really? Because literally every time the topic comes up, all you want me to do is pretend it didn’t happen. And believe me, I wish it didn’t. But here we are.”
Her face softens. “I’m sorry, Sam. You’re right. I have a shitty boss and it makes me…”
“Unhinged?” I supply helpfully.
“Strict,” she says, her lips quirking up. “But I’ll do better. I promise.”
My shoulders relax. “Thank you.”
“So?” she prompts. “Tell me everything.”
I take another bite of sad chicken and chew. “Do you know that I’m still not sure we’re even married?”
Her eyes narrow. “I thought you two talked about it.”
“Oh, we did. I don’t know if he even knows, to be honest. And at some point we’re going to have to figure that part out.”
“But that’s not why you’re eating sad chicken.”
I huff out a laugh. “Correct.”
“What happened?” she asks sympathetically.
And maybe it’s because Kari is never soft, but her question unlocks something deep inside me. I finally admit the very thing I’ve been terrified was going to happen.
“I think I have feelings for him,” I whisper, my lower lip trembling. “And I…don’t think it’s going to end well.”
She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “Lay it on me. We’ll figure this out.”