Chapter 38
GAME-CHANGER: KEY PLAY THAT SHIFTS MOMENTUM.
We’re finally back in our room, sealed away from the drizzle, the shouts, and the cameras that followed us back from Wembley. Instead of feeling exhausted, exhilaration causes blood to pump through my heart faster.
I want nothing more than to spend this energy in our bed, but I need to know where Maya’s at—especially with all her revelations during and after the game.
Even as I stare down at the crown of her head, she lets out a sound that’s half laugh, half snort.
Sitting next to her, I ask, “What’s that for? ”
“Well, I laid awake all night with a speech planned.”
“About?”
“Letting you know how ready I was for there to be an us. But I think I let my actions speak louder than words today. What about you?” She twists her head, and her blue eyes are sparkling.
I reach over and lace my fingers through hers. She doesn’t hesitate. I grin. She returns it. We both start laughing at the same time as recollections of things that happened flash through our heads.
Maya groans, “We’re trending on social media.”
“Under several hashtags, according to you, uvetta mia,” I remind her.
She giggles. Looping her arms around my neck, she admits, “I can’t believe I said half of that.”
“You mean the part where you verbally destroyed Bryce?”
Her lips twitch. “Yes.”
“You were perfect.” I fall back on the bed, pulling her on top of me before rolling her over to capture her body beneath mine.
“I’m mortified. I don’t want you to think he means anything to me because he doesn’t,” she emphasizes.
“That wasn’t you showing him emotion; that was you finally speaking your truth and walking away with your head held high.”
“It’s odd. At the moment, I didn’t even think it was essentially the same situation that caused this major milestone in my life. Noise, people, cameras—essentially the same setup as his house.”
I sway my head from side to side. “To a degree.”
“But instead of feeling humiliated, I feel like I just unloaded this burden I wasn’t supposed to be carrying.”
Her gorgeous blue eyes drill into mine. There’s a quiet vulnerability there. “Now, for the hard part.”
“What’s that?”
“Talking about us.”
“I meant what I said in that room. It’s about what you and I are starting. Together.”
My heart races against hers. “I know you did.”
“But moving forward with you…I want to take the time to build this the right way.”
My heart is going to beat out of my chest. “You want to build something?”
She’s exasperated. “No, I thought I’d just be your international booty call. For the love, Troy. What did you think I was saying earlier?”
I press my lips together, trying to hold in the laughter. Finally, I can’t hold it back. “I-international b-booty c-call?”
She rolls her eyes and shoves at my chest. “This is what I get for trying to have a serious conversation with you right now.”
I cage her in between my arms. “I’m listening. Swear.”
Her lips twitch. “I don’t want chemistry to feel like a promise.
I want to slow down, let the deadline we’ve been under fade away.
Dial back our adrenaline. We need to live with who we are every day.
We need to know every aspect of each other before we can call this what we both want it to be—so I can swear to you I’m all in the way you want. ”
Excitement hums in my veins. “It’s not going to change how I feel, but I know you need time.”
“I do.” Her eyes hold mine. “Because I already know I’m falling for you, and I’m not going to lie—it’s terrifying with how natural it is with you.”
She just stares at me, throat working. Then she leans forward, presses her forehead to mine. Her breath heats the air between us, even as her lower lip trembles. “Hey, hey. Everything’s going to be fine.” My lips brush hers—barely there, soft, hesitant.
A promise, not a possession.
Finally, she murmurs, “I believe in this. In us. We’re really going to make this work long-term, aren’t we?”
“I think,” I say, “that if we keep telling the truth like this, we won’t have to worry about the long-term. It’ll just happen.”
Her eyes close, and I feel the tension ease out of her. “You’re not supposed to make sense this easily.”
“I’m full of surprises.”
“I’m noticing that. Just for the record, your cooking is definitely in your favor.”
“Coming from someone who slaughters coffee, I had little doubt about that.”
She laughs softly, then curls closer. Her head tucks beneath my chin. We lie like that for a long time—both of us lost in our thoughts. Both of us are eager to be lit by the light of love even as one of us is wary of the flame.
Eventually, her voice drifts up, sleepy, fragile. “Don’t let me ruin this, okay?”
“You couldn’t if you tried.”
“Even if I make you wait?”
“Especially if you make me wait.”
She smiles against my shirt. “You’re going to regret saying that.”
“Not a chance.”
Outside, the rain keeps falling. London hums softly below us, alive but distant. When her breathing evens out against my shoulder, I hear her whisper the truth she’s not ready to admit yet while she’s fully awake to acknowledge it.
“I’m already gone for you, Troy.”
Knowing I have to wait doesn’t scare me. After all, love—like football and wine making—takes constant diligence and persistence.
Neither intimidates me.
I wake to the sound of rain.
The first thing I notice is Maya is still curled against me—her breathing slow and even. The second is that we’re both still in the same clothes we were wearing yesterday.
Yesterday replays in pieces — the stadium’s roar, her standing toe-to-toe with Bryce in the locker room, the way her voice didn’t shake when she cut him down to size.
Then the quiet here together—her hand in mine, her body under mine.
Her words spill out in her sleepy daze like something she’d held too long. “I’m already gone for you, Troy.”
Her fingers twitch against my chest, brushing over my heart, and I swear it trembles. I reach up and nuzzle a wayward curl off her forehead, letting my thumb trace the apple of her cheek.
She shifts, a soft sigh slipping out as her eyes blink open—slow, heavy-lidded, that first moment when she’s still half-dreaming. Then she focuses, sees me, and smiles.
“Hey,” I murmur.
“Hey,” she whispers back, voice still thick with sleep. “You’re awake early.”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Thinking about yesterday?”
“Thinking about you.”
Her smile widens. “That’s dangerous.”
“For whom?”
“Probably me,” she says, sitting up a little, pulling the blanket with her. “You make it too easy to forget why I told you I wanted to go slow.”
“I didn’t forget,” I breathe. “I’m just enjoying the wait.”
Her brow creases, caught between laughter and disbelief. “No one enjoys waiting.”
“I do,” I tell her. “When I know the rewards waiting for me at the end.”
That earns me a soft laugh. Maya gathers her courage and brings up her whispered confession. “Last night, when I said I was falling for you…”
I feel a twist in my chest that’s part hope, part fear.
“I meant it,” she says. “Every word. I just…need time to trust everything that goes along with falling in love. For so long, I was focused on believing I was ‘in love’ with the wrong person. I need to appreciate what it means to know I am with the right one.”
“You already know,” I whisper. “You just have to trust in us.”
She smiles faintly. “You always say the best things.”
“No,” I murmur. “Just the truth.”
She leans forward. Her hands cup my jaw, and for a heartbeat we just breathe the same air. No noise, no crowd, no ex-boyfriend’s shadow stretching between us — just this.
When she kisses me, it’s not hungry or hurried. It’s gentle, deliberate. The kind of kiss that doesn’t demand anything except honesty.
It’s over too soon. She sits back, her cheeks flushed. “You really are dangerous, Troy.”
“How so?”
“You make patience look sexy.”
“Sorry, not sorry?”
She laughs before lying back down, curling into me again. Her head rests on my chest; her hand lies over my heart. “This feels perfect,” she murmurs.
I brush a kiss into her hair. “Then I guess we’re both in agreement.”
She hums her concurrence, her fingers tracing over my ribs in slow, absent movements. The city outside keeps moving, traffic stirring, rain tapering into mist. But in here, time slows to something only our hearts know the rhythm to.
Her voice is barely a whisper when she pleads, “Don’t stop making it feel like this.”
“I won’t,” I promise. “Even if you’re afraid and try to run from me.”
She smiles against my chest. “You really are in this for the long haul, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Because for the first time in my life, I’m not playing because love isn’t a game.”
She doesn’t answer, but I feel her smile, and that’s enough.
I hold her tighter as the morning brightens. The rain stops. The light shifts. And I realize I'm exactly where I’m supposed to be.