Chapter 51
Teagan
Okay, so baking a cake may or may not be considered rest, but I was going stir-crazy after sitting on the couch all day.
And with the buzz of the Panthers winning the World Series, I needed to do something. Plus, Quentin cooks for me all the time, and I want to repay the gesture. Sure, I sucked at it the first time, but I made sure not to mix up the salt and sugar this time around.
I’m finishing writing the word “congrats” with orange icing when Quentin walks through the door. My decorating skills are crap, so it’s barely legible, but I’ve got no time left.
Quentin walks straight to me, determined in his steps and not stopping until we’re toe to toe. His hand cups my chin and he kisses me deeply and lovingly.
I sigh into the kiss, gripping onto the back of his head as I get lost in us.
“Mmm,” I hum between kisses. “Congrats on being a champion and pulling off a no-hitter. That’s amazing.”
“Thank you.” He smiles against my lips, pulling back to look at the cake on the counter. “Cute cake,” Quentin says, playing serious, but I see the smile he’s trying to hide.
“Listen, I didn’t have time to decorate, okay? Just eat it.”
His eyes widen as he takes a step back. “I did that last time, and it didn’t go so well.”
“That was banana bread. This is different. I promise I didn’t mix up the salt for sugar.” I pout, wanting to feed him like he always feeds me.
“How can I be sure you’re not still trying to kill me?”
“Because I love you too much.”
He smirks, looking proud of himself as he leans in to kiss my forehead. “I know you do. I just love hearing my girl go soft.”
“I am not soft,” I argue, but we both end up laughing because we know I turn into putty around this man. “Maybe just for you.”
“And that’s just how I like it.”
All I can do is smile wide in response, my cheeks heating. Quentin cuts a piece of cake and spoons it into his mouth. I watch in anticipation as he does, hoping it doesn’t taste awful.
He chews for a bit, then looks at me skeptically.
“Oh no, how bad is it?” I cringe.
“No, it’s actually good. I’m shocked, that’s all.”
“You jerk.” I shove his shoulder playfully. Quentin spoon-feeds me a bite, and I nearly moan around the spoon. It is good.
“Did you talk to Anna today?” he asks.
“I actually did. We both cried and bitched together. It felt very therapeutic in a way, you know?”
“Understandable. Nothing brings people together more than sharing a hatred for someone,” he says, and God, is he ever right.
“Exactly. Nina was able to get us a spot on the World of Women podcast, and we’re going to share our stories on that. They’ve got over ten million followers, so I think our story will get heard around the world. And Coach Samuels will run into hiding.”
“I’m proud of you,” Quentin says earnestly. “It’s not an easy thing to speak up against men in your industry.”
“Thank you. It’s not, but it’s important for me. I want to compete again, and this is the only way. Coach Samuels was never going to let me back on the team, and they’re the best gym in the country. I need to go back there, just not with him.”
“So, once Coach Dickhead is gone and the baby’s here. What’s your plan? I’m asking so I can support you along the way.”
“Quentin, you just won the World Series. Shouldn’t you be getting ready to meet the guys at a club or something? We don’t need to talk about me right now,” I say, not wanting to turn his night into being about my crap.
He gives me a ‘really?’ look. “You know I’m exactly where I want to be. I celebrated in the locker room, and that’s all I wanted to do. Because being with you is the real prize anyways.”
“God, you’re cheesy.” I laugh.
“I’m serious, though, Teagan. This is important, and I want to be here for you. I’m done with my career, and now my job is to take care of the home. Which is you and our baby girl.”
His stability grounds me, the way he’s so sure of us and everything, it gives me the confidence boost I need.
“Well, the plan would be to rest, of course, until I’m cleared to train.
I’m hoping to be back in the gym by early March.
And the first qualifying competition is in July.
If I place, I’ll have my spot back at the World Olympic Gymnastics Center, and if I keep placing at competitions after that, I’ll be set to go to the Olympics the following summer,” I say with so much hope in my voice.
I’ve never wanted it more, and I think it’s because now, it’s for me. And my girl. But for the first time, I’m included in my drive, for my reason to keep pushing.
“You’re going to come back better than ever. I know it,” he says knowingly.
“Fucking right I am.”
I smile to myself, knowing that somehow, this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. And within the next seventy-two hours, Coach Samuels will be begging for mercy.
Let the fun begin.