Chapter 31
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
Dawson
If you had told me four months ago that I’d be in nothing but a silk robe and boxers, with my girlfriend sitting in my lap as she gives me a manicure, I’d have told you you’d lost your damn mind.
But here I am.
In her bed, as she focuses very intently on my nails.
I don’t think I need a manicure, but she insists I do.
I don’t mind, though. I love how she wrinkles her nose as she picks and trims my nails and something called a cuticle.
I have no clue what it is, but she’s going to town as I admire everything about her.
I do this often, and each time, I find something new I love about her.
Today, it’s the fact that her hair doesn’t all curl the same way.
Some curls go in and some go out, but somehow they lock together to make her hair all bouncy and beautiful.
I drink in her jaw, how her lip slips between her teeth as she concentrates. With each movement, her own silk robe opens a bit to show a nice little peek of her fantastic boobs. I want to grab them, suck them, but I refrain since she has been very pushy about clipping my nails.
Fuck, I love her.
“Are you sure I need this?” I ask, only because I want her to talk to me.
While I love the comfortable silence, I love when she talks to me more.
We talk about everything and nothing. The last month has been almost magical, and I find myself still not believing this is real.
That I finally landed the girl of my dreams. The MVP of my life.
She gives me a side-eye, and I smile as she nods. “Yes. Don’t you get tired of me picking at your hangnails?”
No. “I don’t mind.”
She playfully rolls her eyes. “I know they get caught on your gloves.”
“They do,” I agree. “But if you like to pick at them, I want them.”
I love the way she snorts, shaking her head as she continues to clip them.
Her hair is down, all wild curls ready to wash.
I know her hair-washing schedule. Hell, I’ve even helped her with it.
Did I think that one day I’d know how to do a curl wash?
Nope, never thought I’d know anything about a woman the way I do Ambrosia, but here I am.
Loving every fucking second of it.
Since that first night we slept together, I haven’t slept in my own bed.
Why would I, when hers has her all cuddly and warm for me?
We’ve fallen into such an easy routine, it’s almost scary.
I do me and she does her, but when we can do us, we do.
I always thought it would be a pressure, a chore, to please the person I’m with, but with Ambrosia, it isn’t like that.
I want to please her, and there isn’t any pressure because we know the other one is busy too.
In a way, it makes the time we have together more precious.
It’s all too good to be true, but I refuse to think it’s anything but what’s meant to be.
Because she’s all mine.
I reach out with my free hand, pushing her robe open so I can see her heavy breasts and dusty rose nipples. She gives me a dark look and chastises me. “Dawson, I’m busy.”
“I’m just looking,” I tell her, and she grins so brightly, I want to tilt my face back to feel the warmth of it.
Fuck, she’s so pretty.
I want to say I didn’t get addicted to sex when I finally got a taste of it, but I did.
Or maybe I’m just addicted to her. I want her, always.
She kisses like a fucking dream. Her body is soft, and when I get inside her, I lose the small amount of control I have when it comes to her.
She’s a little vixen too, all moans and scraping those nails down my back.
We’re fucking hot, but it’s more than the penetration.
It’s the closeness. There is something about wrapping my arms around her, holding her to me, and just breathing her in.
I love it.
I fucking love her.
But I haven’t told her yet.
It’s been over a month since we got together, since I realized I had fallen for her.
Some days, I’m sure she’s right there with me, but then the next day, I’ll tell myself that it’s too fast for her.
That she’s still catching up to all these feelings I’m feeling.
It’s a wild thing to feel, when usually, I don’t doubt myself.
Usually, it wouldn’t matter if she liked me, but that’s not the case anymore.
It’ll fully break me if she doesn’t fall for me.
So, I keep on proving how much she means to me. It’s not hard; it really comes naturally. I just wish there were a way to know when she would fall. Or if she already has. I want to ask but then she’ll know I’ve fallen, and I’m too competitive for that.
Remember, we listen and we don’t judge.
“You’re so beautiful, Ro.”
Her lips tilt up, her heated gaze moving to mine before returning to where she’s working on my thumb. “You look mighty fine in that silk robe, hotshot.”
I grin at that. Her mom got me the same robe as Ambrosia when they came over unannounced, and I answered the door in said robe.
I learned very quickly that Ambrosia’s mom and aunt do not believe in boundaries or phones.
They come when they want, and it doesn’t matter what they catch us doing.
I don’t mind it, though. I’m used to the chaos that is families.
Louis still blows up my phone every night, asking where I am.
He has my location.
I must conjure him because my phone rings, but it isn’t Louis. It’s Jude. I answer and bring it to my ear as Ambrosia looks up at me. “Hey, Jude. What’s up?”
Her lips curve a bit as she goes back to my nails.
My uncle lets out a long breath before saying, “Chargers contacted me and told me they’re interested in you for first round.
” I’m stunned to silence. “It’s a rookie contract, but it’ll be more than the NHL since it’s the first round.
Looking at about fifteen million for four years. ”
“What are your thoughts?” I find myself asking, and Jude whistles through his teeth, a sound he makes when he’s unsure.
“Well, I don’t know, because they don’t want you to play hockey.”
I press my lips together. I don’t like that at all, but it’s understandable. “Figures, but sucks.”
“Yeah, we still have interest in the NHL, but not first round.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “Got it. Let me talk to Ambrosia.”
Ambrosia looks up with her brow perked, and I’m met with silence before Jude chuckles lightly. “You know, I would be upset by that, but even I can’t deny she’s a fucking winner. I like that girl a lot, and my kids adore her. Hadley asks every day when Ro is coming back.”
I smile. “Hadley is asking about you.”
Ambrosia lights up. “We should go over this weekend.”
I nod in agreement and then kiss her temple. “We’ll come over this weekend,” I tell Jude. “And I’ll have an answer by then.”
“Fantastic. The kids will be stoked, and I’m curious to see what you decide. Love you, kid.”
“Love you,” I say as I hang up and place my phone on the nightstand.
Ambrosia is still holding my hand, clipping, as she asks, “What did you need to ask me about?”
I lick my lips as my gaze travels along her jaw. “Chargers want to sign me, first round.”
Her lips curve up as she peeks over at me. “That’s incredible. I’m so proud of you.” I smile back at her, feeling the praise in every inch of my body. I don’t know why her being proud of me gets me going, but it does. She looks back to my nails. “What are you thinking?”
I watch her for a moment, gathering my thoughts. “I won’t go first round in the NHL.”
“Right. Is Jude still tracking second or third?”
“Yeah,” I say as my hand travels up her plump thigh. “If I go with the Chargers, it’ll be fifteen million for four years.”
She whistles as she shakes her head. I look down at my hand on her thigh, tracing the curves and bumps along her skin.
I wait for the anxiety of having admitted that number to her, but I don’t feel it at all.
I feel good, knowing I have her to talk to about it.
Before, I could never speak so openly about this with anyone else, but with Ambrosia, I know she’ll be there with me.
That one day, my money will be her money, and vice versa.
Or, at least, I fucking hope so.
“That’s a good contract and good money for a rookie.”
“Agreed,” I say softly, and I feel her looking over at me.
“What’s the holdup?”
I meet her gaze. “I wouldn’t be able to play hockey this season.”
Her eyes widen, but then she nods. “Makes sense.” She inhales, letting her breath out with a whoosh. “But sucks.”
“Exactly.”
“Could that be discussed? Like maybe do what you did with this football season, only play important games?”
I shrug. “I mean, my dad would be down, but the risk of injury is still there.”
“Yeah, and if they said that, they want you healthy for a reason. Maybe you’ll be a starter?”
“I don’t know.”
Our eyes lock as she threads her fingers with mine. Silence falls between us as we breathe in time with each other. She swallows before she asks, “Are you ready to be done?”
“No,” I admit honestly, and it’s so easy when it comes to her. “But what if that is a feeling that will never go away?”
Her thumb moves with mine. “But could the same be said about football?”
The question catches me off guard, but I know the answer. The words leave my lips before I can even process the thought. “I was ready to be done after the championship game.”
“Ready or expecting?”
“Ready.” I say it with more confidence than I feel. “Even with football still going until the bowl games, my training has already switched to hockey.”
She holds my gaze and then brings my hand to her lips. She presses a kiss to my knuckles, and then, against them, she says, “Then I think you have your answer.”
I do, and I wait for the fear of losing the sport to hit. I wait to feel like a failure or even like I’m giving up. But the only thing I feel is love for this girl. “You could broadcast in LA, though.”
She shrugs. “Sure, but this isn’t about me.”
“I know, but you’re a part of the decision for me,” I admit, my heart in my throat.
“So you’d want me to follow you?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You have dreams outside of me.”
“But like you said, you’re a part of my decision too.”
“Yeah, but just as you want me to be happy, I want the same for you.”
She licks her lips. “Which means we’d be apart.”
“I know,” I say, my heart sinking.
Her eyes search mine. “It won’t be easy.”
“I know,” I agree softly. “But it wasn’t easy to make you mine, and here we are.”
Her eyes sparkle as she leans in to kiss my nose. Against it, she repeats, “Here we are.”
“My NHL contracts won’t be as much,” I remind her.
“Good thing I’m not a money-hungry person then, huh?
” She kisses my top lip. “Money doesn’t bring happiness.
” I mean, it helps, but she’s right. “Making a lot of money but playing a sport you don’t live for—or making decent money for a sport you do.
I’d choose the latter, but as I’ve been saying from the beginning, the choice is yours. ”
She’s absolutely right. I could end up going fourth round in the NHL, making a few million, but I’d be playing the sport I’ve worked for. The one my heart belongs to. Football wasn’t my first love, and while I thought hockey was, I know it’s second to Ambrosia.
“Actually, it doesn’t matter what sport I play, as long as you’re cheering for me.”
I reach up with my other hand and cup her behind her neck. I bring her to me, pressing our foreheads together and staring deep into her whiskey gaze. “My happiness is right here, and everything else is just a bonus.”
And then I fuse my mouth to hers.