Chapter 66 Another Moment
Another Moment
Maisie
Istumble into the natatorium’s lobby and instantly find Connor.
It feels like there is an invisible string between us pulling taut.
I’m relieved to see him, but I don’t recognize the man he’s with.
The man looks angry. As I stride quickly toward them, Connor turns to face me with wild eyes. I skid a step.
My senses are on high alert. Something doesn’t feel right.
“What’s going on?” I ask as soon as I reach the two men.
Now that I’m closer, recognition sparks. They have the same eyes—except where Connor’s are warm, this man’s are cold and severe—and the same height and build. This must be Connor’s dad. Oh, hell no.
“This isn’t a conversation for your little girlfriend to be a part of. This is about your future!” The man raises his voice, and I instinctively shrink back for a moment before deciding no, he doesn’t get to talk to Connor like that—or me, for that matter.
I look to Connor. Something fiery yet broken lies in the depths of his eyes. Anger boils inside me, and I glare at his dad.
“You can’t talk to him like that!” Defending Connor—the man I love, but haven’t had a chance to tell yet—is as natural as breathing.
The man swings his disgusted gaze to me, and that snaps Connor into some sort of primal mode. He pulls me behind him before his dad so much as has a chance to say anything. Connor is protecting me from the man who hurt him most in the world. Something lodges in my throat.
“Don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Leave!”
“Is she why you quit? Did you let some woman get into your head and ruin your future?”
I reel back.
Connor’s jaw clenches. “She has nothing to do with it, Dad. This was my decision. We’re done here.”
“The hell we are!”
His dad grabs Connor by the arm, hard. I can see the moment Connor shifts, his fists clenching and his face twisting in rage, and I’m worried he’s about to do something he’ll regret.
I grab his other arm and pull him toward me with all my strength.
His eyes whip to my face, and the torment there is anguishing.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
He twists his arm to extricate himself from his dad’s grasp, then follows me toward the doors that lead down to the locker rooms.
“You can’t just walk away from me!” Mr. Bocelli shouts, and there is a desperation to his voice that almost makes me feel bad for him, knowing he just lost his last chance with his son.
Connor inhales sharply, but we keep walking until he’s out of sight.
We’re silent the whole walk, but Connor keeps peeking down at me, like he’s making sure I’m okay, even though I’m the one worried about him. He didn’t deserve to be treated that way. His dad never should have shown up without permission—and the way he talked to him? I wish I’d said more.
Quiet determination pulses at my temples. By the time we reach a quiet alcove on the main level, I pull him into an embrace. He squeezes me so tight, I’m worried he might dislocate something.
I peel back, but only so I can look him in the eye as I say, “I love you, Connor. I’m sorry for every day I didn’t say it out loud.
I love you, and I don’t want another day, another moment to go by without you knowing it.
You deserve so much more than what that asshole gave you. And I’m so, so sorry.”
A tear slips down my cheek. Connor stops it with the back of his pointer finger.
“Stop apologizing, love.”
Then, he’s kissing me. But he doesn’t just kiss me.
He kisses me like I’m the air he breathes.
He kisses me like he’s been underground and is seeing sunlight for the first time.
More tears fall from both of us, the salty taste tangling between our intertwining tongues.
He has my back pressed against the wall, and when he moves his knee between my thighs, stars burst behind my closed eyes.
I ache for him everywhere, and the heady combination of Connor—his smell, his taste, the feel of him around me—and admitting I love him has my whole body softening, careening toward him in a silent plea for more.
He pulls back, resting his forehead against mine, and the absence leaves my skin hot and scratchy. “I love you so much, and you have no idea what it means to hear you say it too.”
“I think I can hazard a guess,” I say, dropping another peck to his lips. That spurs him on, and we get caught up for another moment before he pulls back again. A little whine escapes my throat.
“I’m sorry I missed your last dive,” he pants. “How did it go?”
This man. He just went through all of that, and he’s still thinking about me. About my competition, my goals.
“I did the back three and a half,” I say.
He regards me with bent eyebrows. “You did? Why didn’t you tell me you were going to?”
Laughing, I say, “I didn’t tell anyone. I only told Coach right before warm-ups started. She was pissed, to be honest.”
“When isn’t she?” He laughs. “I’m so freaking proud of you, love. You’re amazing.”
Love. He called me that once before, and I secretly loved it. Now that our love is out in the open, I want him to call me that all the time. Although “Betty” and “My Queen” still have a special place in my heart. “And guess what?” I add.
“What?” He tucks me in closer.
“I placed fourth and qualified for the National Championship,” I whisper.
Next thing I know, I’m off the ground, flying through the air. He’s spinning me around in a hug, like you see in movies. My best friend. My love. My Connor. He’s simply the best.
When he lets my feet touch ground again, he still holds tight, saying, “I’m beyond proud of you. I knew you could do it. You can do anything.” He kisses me again, and it feels like floating on a cloud.
I love him. I love him. I love him. This is beyond different from everything that happened with Karsen. I can trust him with my heart. And while my heart might remain a little guarded for a while, that’s okay. Sometimes scars remain, but that doesn’t make me any less healed.
“Come on,” he says, taking my hand in his huge one. “This calls for ice cream to celebrate.”
A laugh jingles out of my throat, and I can’t stop smiling as I let him lead me out of the natatorium.