Chapter 61 Olivia
SIXTY-ONE
olivia
God, the intensity of the night! I was ready to crawl out of my seat and right onto his lap. Who cared who saw? Nate demanded from me in a way he hadn’t before—he demanded a future unapologetically—our future.
“It’s yours, Nate. My heart, my future. From today forward, it’s us against whoever the fuck tries to tear us apart.”
The warmth humming through my blood, part alcohol, part Nate’s energy.
“Are you expecting a fight?”
I winced at the thought of Jason’s words. We had ten years of history. Ten years of little jabs, of blatant insults aimed to cut me down. The man would use anything to hurt me. “Jason.”
“Here’s what I think will happen—he’s going to be a dick when he first finds out. I’m going to put him in his place, and then he’s gonna be just fine.”
“How do you plan to put him in his place?”
“The way men do—”
“You can’t hit him, Nate. He loves a good lawsuit. You’ll end up splashed across the news as an aggressor—what will that do when you’re looking to re-negotiate your contract? He will take advantage of everything he can to hurt me. And then Cooper is in the middle.”
“Then maybe we put him in his place by being happy? Live our lives without a single care about him?”
I nodded, but was distracted by a table of six young women out for dinner together. All of them were Nate’s age and stunningly beautiful. Jason’s reaction was a convenient excuse. Those women—they were what I feared.
“When I’m forty, and you’re thirty, are you still going to be satisfied?”
“How are we back here? Baby, this shit’s been settled.”
“It was settled enough for now. For the season. There’s so much that still needs settling.
It’s all fun and games to lie in bed, dreaming about a future—rings, babies, and promises of forever.
But it’s another thing to realize that my age will force us to move those timelines up, or lose the option entirely.
Are you going to want to deal with me having hot flashes and injecting Botox until my face freezes when you have dozens of beautiful women throwing themselves at you? ”
Dessert was delivered, and as I pushed it around on my plate, Nate sat across from me, stewing.
“This isn’t entirely fair. You’re making assumptions about me based on the actions of other men. Yeah—my teammates brought to light the worst of the worst this season. It destroyed families; it destroyed livelihoods. Shit, it killed the dreams of many fans, coaches, players, and even the new owner.
I don’t know how to prove to you with words that the man I will be tomorrow is the man who loves you today. I’ve only got action. If I have to keep proving it to you—I’m ready. I’ll do it. But don’t you dare inject an ounce of that shit into your face. Please.”
I swallowed. “Botox is your line in the sand?”
“Yeah. Because it tells me I failed.”
“How?”
“I failed in showing you how loved you are. Every goddamn inch of you. I don’t want you to change a single thing. Or feel as if any part of you is lacking. And I sure as hell don’t want you to think less of yourself because life happened and you’ve got a wrinkle on your face.”
“I want to believe you mean it.”
“Then believe me. Believe the man who has never lied to you. Believe the man who always has and always will do everything in his power to make you happy.”
The server interrupted and placed the check in the center of the table. I reached for it and slipped my credit card into the folder. Noting Nate’s discomfort letting me pay, I said, “Happy Birthday, baby,” when I handed them the check.
“Where to next?” he asked.
“I say we people watch, and then go back to the hotel.”
“How about we be the people that people watch?”