Chapter 37
Iris
I change positions on our couch, trying, and failing, to get comfortable.
I’m watching a dishy, trashy, addicting show that’s right up my alley—and yet, my eyes are glazed over. My concentration nonexistent. I’m restless. Jittery. Lonely.
It’s been four days since the Crusaders debacle in Baltimore, and Roman is not, in fact, “good as new,” as his father promised he’d be by now.
On the contrary, whenever my boyfriend comes home every night from the Thunderbolts’ training facility, always much later than usual, he’s simply not himself.
He’s quiet. Distant. So intense, it’s stress-inducing to be around him.
I don’t even know why he comes home, frankly, since all he does when he’s here, besides sleeping, is watch game footage.
With Maverick still in Vancouver with Vanessa, I’ve kept myself busy at the ranch and with friends.
Also, by bingeing shows like this one. But I can’t continue like this.
All I want to do is support Roman and make him feel better, any way I can—but even so, I can’t allow him to ignore me forever.
Sorry, that’s not the relationship I signed on for.
We haven’t even had sex since the loss! Granted, that’s probably mostly due to Roman’s crazy schedule this week.
I’m almost always asleep by the time he gets home.
But is it crazy to think he might have woken me up for sex at least once this week?
He’s done that before, even after that other loss, so he has to know I’d happily choose sex with him over sleep.
Too good to be true.
The Voice of Doom is no longer whispering that horrible phrase into my ear.
This week, the voice has been screaming it.
Constantly. Does Roman blame me for that horrible loss in Baltimore?
Is he second-guessing his decision to invite me to live with him?
I’m well aware he’s never had a girlfriend during football season before, and he’s one hell of a superstitious motherfucker when it comes to football stuff.
So, could it be Roman’s decided I’ve somehow brought him bad luck or caused him to lose necessary focus?
As my thoughts spiral into another full-blown panic, Roman unexpectedly waltzes through our front door in a Thunderbolts T-shirt and gray sweats, looking freshly showered and perturbed.
“Hey,” I murmur, sitting up on the couch. “You’re home early.”
My heart is thundering.
This is it.
I’m going to talk to Roman today and tell him everything I’ve been thinking about on a running loop.
It might piss him off and push him away even more, but I simply can’t live like this.
If we’re not going to make it, then I’d rather find that out now than let this drag on for the rest of the season.
“Yeah, Coach made me leave early for some ‘rest and relaxation,’” Roman murmurs with a scoff. “He’s forcing me to take the rest of the day off, whether I like it or not.”
I clear my throat and pat the couch next to me. “Can we talk for a minute?”
Roman’s features soften. “Of course.” He strides over and sits down. But before I say a word, he leans in and kisses me deeply. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve been a total dick.”
My heart rate quickens. I croak out, “You blame me for the loss.”
Roman pulls a face like that’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard. “Of course not.”
Tears prick my eyes. “Then why have you been acting so pissed at me?”
“What? Iris, no.” He runs a hand through his dark hair. “I didn’t want to be a cranky dick around you, so I kept my distance while I worked some things out.”
“If you think I prefer you icing me out and acting like you want to break up with me to you being a cranky dick, then you’re sorely mistaken.”
His face drains of color. “I . . . I’m sorry. There’s not an ounce of me that’s thinking about breaking up with you, Iris. I didn’t realize that’s the impression I was giving.”
Tears flow down my cheeks. “You’ve barely looked at me, let alone talked to me. We haven’t had sex. You never ask me about my day or how I’m doing. Of course I’m thinking you might be second-guessing your decision to invite me here. What else could I possibly think?”
Roman looks utterly devastated. “I thought you understood . . . I’ll never, ever second-guess you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Didn’t the horse ranch tell you how I feel about you?”
“I mean, yes. It did. At the time. But people change their minds. Sometimes, they do something over the top without thinking it through and then regret it later on.” I can’t stop my chin from trembling.
“Baby.” Roman wraps me in a hug. “My love, I promise, what I’ve been going through has nothing to do with you. It’s all in my own head.”
“It does have to do with me, though, because I love you, through thick and thin. Because we’re teammates, whether you win or lose.
” I lean back from our hug and look into his dark eyes.
“I loved you before I knew you played football, remember? And you loved me, even when I was at rock bottom. All I want to do is love and support you through tough times, the way you did for me, but you won’t let me.
” I wipe my tears. “If I’m being honest, I’m tired of this relationship always being a one-way street. I want to be there for you in return.”
“A one-way street?” Roman says, like the words are unfathomable. He takes my hand. “Iris, you give me far more than I could ever give you, just by being here and being you.”
I scoff. “Except when you lose a football game?”
His jaw tightens “I didn’t simply lose. And it wasn’t a football game. It was far more than that.”
I exhale. “I understand that’s the narrative you’ve been telling yourself. But there’s a schedule of games, right? And it’s an objective fact that was merely one game on that schedule. Correct?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not? It can be, if you let it be.”
He pats my thigh. “I love you, sweetheart, but you simply don’t understand.”
I take a deep breath to calm myself. “I don’t pretend to understand football the way you do.
But here’s what I do understand: I can’t continue like this.
I’m fully prepared to let you have space to work through your emotions and prepare for the next game on the schedule.
But giving you space and being ignored and shut out are two very different things. ”
“And rightly so,” he mumbles. He hangs his head and sighs. “I don’t know how to do this, Iris. It’s all new to me—juggling a relationship and my responsibilities during the season.”
“Do you want to juggle those two things?”
He looks up, his dark eyes wide and anxious. “Of course, I do. You truly doubt that?”
My chin trembling, I nod.
Roman looks pained. His shoulders droop.
“I can’t believe I’ve let you doubt my feelings for you for a nanosecond.
That’s inexcusable. Please, forgive me, Iris.
” His dark eyes look downright panicked at this point.
Good. I’m not a sadist, but Roman looks exactly how I’ve felt for quite some time now, and it feels good to know I’m no longer alone here.
“It’s not a matter of me forgiving you,” I reply evenly. “It’s a matter of us figuring out a way to do this, going forward. Together. A way that works for both of us.”
Roman nods. But a moment later, his face contorts, like he’s on the cusp of losing control of his emotions. He hangs his head again. Remains silent for an eternal moment. But finally, he murmurs, “I’ve really been struggling. That’s the truth.”
Finally. A breakthrough. I grip his forearm. “I know you have, my love. That’s been pretty damned clear. But I can’t help you if you won’t let me. If you don’t confide in me and lean on me. Let me in, Roman. That’s all I want.”
Roman lifts his head, takes a deep breath, and exhales it with puffed-out cheeks.
“I don’t even know how to do that, honestly.
I love you so much for wanting to help me, sweetheart, but nobody can.
It’s nothing against you, personally. I’ve been to loads of sports psychologists over the years, including twice this week, but there’s no advice in the world that’s going to help me crack this fucking nut.
” He bangs on his head with his knuckles, a grimace on his handsome face.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me sometimes.
I tell myself not to let one mistake get to me; I tell myself not to listen to the negative chatter about me.
But that’s all easier said than done when the whole world is watching and reveling in your failure. ”
“You didn’t fail. You had one bad game, along with every other player on the team. It happens.”
He shakes his head. “The whole world was watching and rooting for me to fucking fail. And I did. And now, that game is what I’ll always be remembered for, above all else. I’ll be remembered as a choker.” He swallows hard, clearly trying to stifle the emotion that’s crept into his voice.
I squeeze his forearm in my grasp. “No, my love. The best is yet to come.”
His chest heaves. “What if the haters have been right about me all along? What if I really am nothing but a loser, a choker, an overpriced, overhyped egomaniac who’ll never deliver when it matters most?”
An idea strikes. With full authority and confidence, I grab his hand and hold it firmly in mine. “Go put on some jeans and sneakers, baby. I’m taking you to the horse ranch for the rest of the day.”
Roman exhales. “Baby, no. I’m sorry. I need to watch some more game films and—”
“No, you don’t. Coach told you to take the day off.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts. Coach Hardy knows better than you. And so do I. Go on.” I point toward the staircase leading to our bedroom upstairs. “Get dressed, love. You’re coming with me. For the rest of the day, your ass is mine.”