Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Bellamy
I’m weak. Not because I’m feeling sick, but because even though I should tell him no and stay on my side of the couch, I cave.
I want what he is offering. I want his arms around me.
I tell myself that this is it. This is the last time I allow myself to indulge in what this man is offering.
It’s not fair to either of us to keep pretending this could be more.
My stomach rolls, and I bury my face in his shirt, breathing him in, hoping it will settle, and luckily, it does. It’s going to be a long damn time before I eat Chinese food again.
“You all right?” he asks, rubbing his hand gently down my back.
“I’m okay,” I whisper. His kindness brings tears to my eyes. Oh, how I wish that things could be different for us. Why does he have to be a damn football player?
“Can I get you anything?” he asks.
Just you. “I’m good,” I assure him. As long as I don’t move or think about food, the nausea stays calm.
He continues to rub my back, and my eyes feel heavy.
I try to fight sleep, but I can’t seem to stop it.
I’m too warm, too comfortable. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I’ve missed being close to him.
One night was all it took for feelings to take root, feelings I refuse to allow myself to act on, so I push them aside and give myself tonight as I drift off to sleep.
A soft curse and a thump jolt me awake. “What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice groggy with sleep.
“I dropped my phone. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” Reid replies softly.
“What time is it?” I ask, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“After two.”
My mouth falls open. “In the morning?”
“Yeah, you needed the rest.”
“You’re still here?” Why is he still here? He stayed while I was sleeping? Why would he do that?
“Where else would I be, Bell?”
My belly flutters, and this time, it’s not from the food poisoning; it’s from the man.
I secretly love the way he calls me Bell.
To everyone else, I’m Bellamy or Bella, but Bell, that’s just his, and it’s something for me to hold on to when he’s no longer around.
“Home, or at your cookout with your friends.”
Reaching over, his hand lands on my thigh, and he gives it a soft squeeze. “I’m where I want to be,” he assures me.
“You should go. It’s late, and you have to get ready for training camp.
” My words sound dismissive, and while they are, I don’t mean them to be harsh.
I’m falling for him. Who am I kidding? I’ve already fallen for him, but I can’t act on those feelings.
I can’t let this happen. I refuse to set myself up for heartbreak.
“I’m ready,” he assures me. “I’m packed, and the only thing I’m missing is time with you.”
“It’s late,” I say again because my brain is still trying to comprehend that he’s still here—wide awake, while I use him as my personal pillow. He’s here, and he’s telling me that I’m all that he’s missing. My heart wants to throw caution to the wind, but my mind tells me that I know better.
“Are you hungry?” He ignores my words, telling him that he should go. Instead, he tries to continue to take care of me. I feel my resolve softening, and I can’t let that happen.
“No, I’m going to go to bed.” Tossing off the cover I was wrapped up in, I stand.
My words are abrupt, but I need some separation.
My body is trying to betray me. “Thank you for coming to check on me.” I soften my tone.
I do appreciate him coming to check on me, and he stayed.
He had other places he could be, but he chose to stay here, on my couch, letting me use him as a pillow. I’m trying to wrap my head around that.
“You don’t have to thank me for coming to check on you when you’re not feeling well, Bellamy.” He tucks my flyaway hair behind my ear, and it’s hard not to melt. “I wanted to take care of you,” he says, his voice soft. His blue eyes, boring into mine, will me to trust him.
That’s part of the issue. I do trust him, but I shouldn’t. My mom trusted my dad, and look how that turned out. I can’t fall into the same trap.
“Be safe driving home,” I say, trying to keep my tears at bay.
I don’t know why I’m so emotional all of a sudden.
That’s a lie. I do know why. I don’t want him to go.
I want him to stay, but I can’t do this.
I can’t fall for a football player. I won’t be able to handle the heartbreak.
My dad leaving me for his job was one thing, but choosing a man who could potentially do the same thing… I just can’t do it.
I can’t knowingly sign up for a broken heart. It hurts too much already, and he’s not even mine.
Reid climbs to his feet. “Can I have a hug?” he asks, his voice sounding sad.
I nod, feeling the tears burn. I should say no, but I want his arms around me. “Yes,” I reply softly, trying to mask the sound of tears clogging my throat.
“Come here,” he says, sliding his arm around my waist and pulling me into his chest. He holds me tightly, and I’m about three seconds away from losing this battle with my tears. I can’t let him see me cry. “Call me if you need me.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, because even though I don’t want them to, his words mean everything to me.
He pulls back and presses his lips to my forehead. “Lock up behind me,” he says, kissing my forehead one last time, before turning and walking away.
I stand frozen as I watch him walk out the door, and as soon as I hear the click telling me he’s gone, my tears start to fall.
Why does the universe hate me? Why did this man drop into my life?
Why is he perfect for me? I drag myself toward the door, twist the lock, and turn off the lights before shuffling to my bedroom and crying myself to sleep.
“We shouldn’t be here,” I tell Amanda, as I pull my car into Corie and Knox’s driveway.
“What? Why not?” she asks.
“These are his people. I’m just making this harder for both of us.
” It’s been a week since training camp started, and Reid has called me every night.
He always sounds dead on his feet, but he calls me without fail before he goes to bed.
Every night, I tell myself that I’m not going to answer, but I crave his gruff, exhausted voice in my ear each night before I go to bed.
I keep telling myself I can’t have him, but there are two sides to every coin.
The other side is that I want him. His persistence is something no man before him has ever had.
He knows my hangups with his career, and no matter how tired or how long a day he’s had, he makes time for me, and that warms a part of my heart that’s been cold and jaded for far too long.
“It’s fine. We were invited. Besides, I’m pretty sure that Reid will be stoked to find out that you’re hanging out with his people,” she replies.
“I’m making this harder on myself,” I grumble.
“Finally!” Amanda exclaims. “She finally gets it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you pushing that man away when it’s obvious to anyone who’s looking that he’s head over heels for you.”
“He’s not.” Even as I say the words, there’s a tiny piece of me that says that’s a lie.
Reid has continued to show up, to keep his word, and he never stops asking to spend time with me.
I don’t know about head over heels, but our time together definitely affected him just as much as it did me.
He’s just allowing himself to act on it.
I, on the other hand, am scared to death to let myself believe we could make this thing between us work.
“Okay, queen of denial. I love you, Bella, you’re my bestie, my ride or die, but with this, when it comes to Reid, you’re wrong. You’re letting your parents' past keep you from what very well could be a fairy-tale future.”
“Fairy tales don’t exist in real life,” I counter.
“Uh-uh,” she says, reaching for the door handle and climbing out.
“I guess we’re doing this,” I mutter as I grab my keys, purse, and phone and quickly follow her to the front door.
Corie said to bring nothing but ourselves, that we’d order in, so here we are, empty-handed, getting ready to knock on their door.
I’m about to put myself further into his world willingly.
I’m itching to run, to race back to my place and hide, but I know that Amanda would never let me. I just need to suck it up.
It’s one night, right? What’s the worst that could happen?
Amanda’s hand is raised to knock when the door opens to three smiling faces. “You’re here!” Sloane and Rowan reach for our hands and drag us inside, while Corie bounces Camden on her hip. Their excitement makes me smile.
“Thanks for having us,” I tell Corie. Reaching out, I tickle Camden’s feet, and he giggles. “Are you crashing girls’ night, little man?” I ask him.
“He’s always welcome,” Corie coos, kissing his cheek. “It’s not Baker’s week to have him, but his mom had another photo shoot overseas or something.” Corie rolls her eyes. “And the nanny is visiting family this weekend, so I offered to keep him.”
“We fought her on it,” Rowan says.
“She won,” Sloane adds. “But that’s okay, because now we’re all here, and we can share him.” She takes Camden from Corie and kisses all over his tiny little face, making him giggle.
“We need some more ladies around this place,” Corie tells us. “Even the little men are taking over. Come sit. What can I get you to drink?” she asks.
“I’m okay for now,” I tell her.
“Amanda?” she asks.
“Maybe in a little while.” She smiles politely.
Neither one of us knows what we’re getting ourselves into, but I admit their friendliness and excitement to see us helps lessen some of my anxiety.