Chapter 29
Bear
Only a couple of hours into the event, I have introduced Pen as my wife to half the staff.
At this point, I'm sure my brain has completely forgotten our marriage is fake.
Everything feels too real. Now I'm here pretending everything is going as well as usual, while trying to suppress the landmine that just went off in my chest.
As if I didn't just run my hand up her calf, discovering how soft her skin can be. Like my fingers weren't drawn to her like she's North and I'm South, and invisible magnetic forces took over me, demanding I touch more and more.
Man, I almost lost my mind. I'm not only thinking about my best friend in ways a friend never would. I'm also touching her in ways I shouldn't.
Now I'm thinking of that evening twelve years ago, when I kissed her after she cried in the backyard. Something happened that night. Whatever it was, it got swiftly packed away. Her laughter was the warning sign that had me hiding things in the shadows for a big chunk of my life.
Fuck. All of my twenties.
But the wedding kiss? Living with her? Sleeping with her? It's changing everything. It's making me fumble. I shouldn't have touched her leg the way I did.
Whatever I'm supposed to do with everything I'm feeling, it's not that.
"It was incredible," Pen says to the group around us. "If I had to pick one, I'd say the pipe organ was my favorite part."
With the dinner and ring ceremony over, everyone is free to mingle. Like usual, we gravitate towards our friends. Now, most of us stand together in our fancy clothes, in the same spacious event hall where they usually hold the winter gala.
The decoration is simple tonight. Most things in sight keep to a champagne palette.
A hundred lights shine on the domed ceiling, all in different sizes, echoing stars at night.
Alongside the strings of lights hanging on the walls like waterfalls, it's like the whole event was designed to make our championship rings shine.
I smirk and steal a glance at the large new piece of jewelry on my hand. I chose to wear it on my right middle finger. I can only see an edge of it— the big rounded corner, and a hint of what may be a hundred small diamonds. The rest of it is covered, because Pen holds that one hand.
"But you also bungee-jumped from a bridge?" Ames asks as if confused.
"That's quite the honeymoon," Evie says.
"Well, you know how it is between Bear and me." Pen smirks. "Since we weren't busy doing… things… we used the opportunity to get ahead with my bucket list."
"What's this about a bucket list?" Saint raises an eyebrow and stares from Pen to me.
"When we learned about my dad's condition," Pen explains, "we decided on a short list of fun things I've been meaning to do."
"Like getting married?" Logan asks.
"You know what?" Pen laughs. "Yes. That was part of it I guess. It's been a great distraction from everything, and my parents are having fun vicariously."
"So what kind of things are we talking about?" Dom grins. "A bucket list sounds fun."
"Get your mind out of the gutter," I say.
Or I might end up there myself. On our wedding night, she implied her full list includes things I'm not privy to. I haven't forgotten the passing comment. I've only tried not to think too much about it.
Pen shakes her head. "We're only doing the PG stuff on my list. Like the pipe organ, or how on the very first night we talked about it, Bear gave me a piggy back ride."
They stare at us in confusion.
"Is that… a euphemism for something? Do tell," Dom insists.
"Not a euphemism," I say.
My friends’ quips are usually fun, but I need them to stop. Or they'll put more thoughts in my head I don't know what to do with.
"I said only the PG stuff." Pen gives Dom a hard stare. "The sexy stuff on my list— well— I gave up on that when I stopped dating."
"But you're married," Saint smirks.
"Not that kind of marriage." Pen's eyes open wide, as if to stress the point. "We're not going there."
I'm not sure if she means going there in terms of talking about it tonight, or if she means she and I won't ever be going there. Regardless, her words confirm such a list exists… and now it's too late. I'm having thoughts I don't know what to do with already.
"Right, right," Saint says. "You did say you two are doing only the family-friendly stuff."
"And in terms of the fun stuff, that could be a great distraction—" Dom starts but he cuts himself off.
He stares behind me. We all turn at once to see Cora Sinclair, the new General Manager of the Strike.
Her confident aura didn't falter as Selena introduced her to a room full of people during the ceremony speeches, and it doesn't falter now. With a self-assured smile, she walks up to us like she owns the place.
She reaches us and we make room for her. She smirks in Dom's direction.
The tight end smirks back. "Still dressing to kill, I see."
Cora puts her hands into her forest green pantsuit pockets, and the gesture casually opens her blazer. It reveals an intricate black bodice I don't inspect too closely, but Dom seemed to expect.
"Dominic Wright," she says. "Haven't seen you in a long time."
"Never watched my games, then?" He shakes his head. "How sad. To think that at one point I thought of you as family."
"Surely we were far away from that? I didn't realize you planned to marry my sister back then."
"How's Mariana, by the way?"
Dom puts his hands into his own pockets, mirroring our new GM. His tone is casual, but I know him well enough to identify the tension around his eyes.
Pen and I exchange a quick look. This is juicy new information about our friend.
"Stressed, I'd say." Cora's mouth pulls to the side. "She's getting a divorce."
Dom barely moves, but the air around him seems to buzz. The tension on his face reaches his eyes. His mouth presses into a thin line.
Cora laughs. "Oh, how I hoped I would get to be the one letting you know."
"Is she okay?" This time, Dom's tone aims for neutral.
"You should ask her," Cora tells him. "She's going to join me and come work for the team, too. She'll be on the foundation side. Community engagement and charity work. Selena wants her to expand the department."
Pen and I glance at each other again, but it's different this time. Cora's words get her wheels turning, just like mine do.
Social workers could fit in that expansion. With Pen's experience, this might be an opportunity worth looking into.
"I see." Dom rubs his lips together. "Well, that's all good, and I don't mean to be rude. We know who you are, but you don't know all of us— at least not in person. Unless you've changed, you've read our rep sheets already."
"So you remember me better than I imagined." She grins at all of us. "Happy to meet you all in person, of course. You and your guests."
We get the hint.
Logan shoots a hand forward. "Logan King, QB, and this is my fiancée, Evie."
Evie shakes Cora's hand. "We met in passing the other day."
"Yes, of course," Cora says. "I remember."
The rest of us take turns introducing ourselves.
"I'm Damián Acevedo, kicker, and this is my wife, Natalia."
"I'm Leon Karlsen, center." I shake her hand as well. "And this is Penélope. My wife."
There it goes. Another detonating cord in my veins, sparkling as it goes for the gunpowder in my heart. Just because I used the title outloud.
"Gael Santiago, wide receiver. This is my girlfriend, Amelia."
Cora smiles at the pair of them. "I remember the kiss at the championship game."
Saint chuckles. "Yes. Historical moment."
Ames laughs.
Dom stares at Cora, unwavering. This is all very interesting. It opens the door to a hundred questions about Dom and his past. About this Mariana he may have dated in the past, and who's coming to work for the Strike.
Eager to check if Pen is thinking along the same lines, I gaze at her.
She smiles, and I forget all about it. The whole room turns bright. Everyone else disappears. She squeezes my hand twice and, in morse code, that's an I.
I…
I…
I… feel too much. My breathing quickens. Something in my chest turns tender. My heart stutters. Such a common gesture, creating a commotion inside of me.
The need for more. So much wanting. And a tug-of-war I may lose.
All I do is gulp, squeeze her hand just once, and pretend I'm listening to the ongoing conversation around us.
God, I was never meant to be looking for signs between us, dreaming that she may feel something new for me, too. She's told me over and over again she's done with romance. Who cares if she touched me in a different way before the party, or if her eyes had a new glint to them. Arousal isn't love.
I held her as she made the decision to give up on what I want most. I told her I'd support her.
To change my heart now after all these years and ask something else of her makes me another guy she can't trust. I can't do that to her.
If she walked away from me after that, after all that I know, all that I've seen— I'd deserve it.
To seek something different with Pen would push me into the category where the worst kind of men live.
I can't lose her. She means too much. That leaves only one option— to hide these feelings in the shadows of my conscience. I'll live it in silence until I conquer it. The glow of my friendship with Pen will keep it away. At the end of the day, that's the one thing I'm not willing to risk.