Chapter 4 #2
Gage rolls his lips together before continuing.
“Football is all I’ve ever known. I’m terrified of what retirement means and yet, part of me is looking forward to it.
I want to have hobbies. I want to catch my nieces’ dance recitals and watch my nephews play soccer on a random Tuesday afternoon.
I spend a lot of time with my family, Cal.
And still, it doesn’t feel like enough. I know what your career means to you, and I’d never resent you.
Not ever for standing up for your clients the way you have for me.
And while I can’t say there won’t be moments I won’t miss the hell out of you, because it always feels like a part of me is missing you, I promise I won’t be sitting around.
” He snorts, tilting his head toward the big house where his family is staying.
“You’ve seen the circus. They’d never let me just sit around. ”
That morsel of truth makes me smirk. “That’s true.”
“What was the next bit? Ah, resentment.” He gives me a long look. “Not gonna happen, beautiful. I admire and respect you too damn much. I’m also thirty-eight, babe. I know what I want. I want you. No other woman has ever come close.”
Holy shit. I gape at him. At how effortlessly he’s saying the words.
His grip flexes on the railing. “Don’t look so surprised, Calla Lily.
I’ve been waiting a long-ass time to fess up to you,” he says, reading my mind.
“It doesn’t much matter what I do next. If I play another year, it’ll be just that.
One more year. And if I don’t, I’ll be retired.
Either way, I don’t have much use for an agent anymore. ”
I swat at his arm, and he catches my fingers. Instead of releasing me, he threads our fingers together, until his palm presses flat against mine.
“And trust me, Callie, my satisfaction, as you put it, doesn’t deserve to be a topic in this conversation. There’s no doubt that you could straight up blow my fucking mind. Satisfaction is the least of our concerns,” he growls.
His tone causes my stomach to tighten and my nerves to escalate. Awareness sparks to life between us, as if his words called the feelings we’ve both been fighting out in the open.
The breeze whispers against my overheated skin. My fingers tighten on his hand. His jaw hardens even as his eyes go soft.
Gage straightens and with his free hand, he cups my cheek. His thumb brushes along my cheekbone and I sigh, turning slightly into his touch.
“How can you not satisfy me when just holding your hand feels like fireworks?” he murmurs.
“I know you’re scared, Callie. I know I’m laying it all fucking out.
But I’m a man who knows what I want. What I’ve always wanted.
I didn’t say anything before now because I knew you didn’t want me to.
Knew it would be a conflict of interest for you. ”
“It still is,” I protest, my voice warbled. My resolve weak.
“Yeah?” He tilts his head, holding my eyes. “I’m not gonna be your client anymore, babe.”
“Does that mean you’re retiring?”
“It means I’m taking my shot. Go out with me tomorrow night. A real date. I want to take you to dinner. I want to show you what this could be. What we could be. Give me a chance, Cal. Please.”
I stare up into Gage’s eyes and want to drown in them. Want to wrap my arms around him and let him hold me. Piece me together and show me everything flickering in the depths of his eyes.
“Tomorrow,” I murmur. “Okay, Gage. Yes.”
A smile cuts across his mouth. It’s bright and brilliant and takes my breath away.
“I never do this,” I repeat.
“I know, baby. But this, us, it was inevitable.” He says it with such confidence that a part of me believes him.
I’m tired of being wary. I’m tired of being lonely, of having to shoulder every burden alone.
But deep down, I know Gage has always been in the background, waiting in the wings, just on the periphery.
I’ve always been able to count on him and he’s always shown up when I needed him most, even when I didn’t reach out directly.
He’s right. Him admitting his feelings before now would have been a complication I couldn’t have handled. Not then.
But now, after these years of loss and grief, with him on the cusp of retirement…
“You’re catching me at a good time,” I admit.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he counters. “And I’m done letting the moments slip away.” He bends down and presses a kiss to my forehead.
I close my eyes as his lips touch my skin and reach for him. My hand clutches at the material of his tank, just above his hip.
“You’re tired, Callie.”
Again, he reads my mind because my body decides to yawn.
Gage smirks. “I’ll tuck you into my bed.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and steers me into his apartment. “You can snuggle up and sleep in tomorrow.”
“My phone…” I trail off lamely.
“Not tonight,” Gage says firmly, steering me toward the bathroom. He tilts his head. “Your toiletries bag is already on the vanity.”
I give him a smile. “You think of everything.”
“I like taking care of you,” he admits.
I dip my head to hide the emotion swelling in my eyes. It’s been so long since someone’s taken care of me. I’ve missed it. I hurry into the bathroom and ready for bed.
When I reenter the bedroom, Gage is pulling back the duvet cover to the king-sized bed.
I sit on the edge and look up at him. In this moment, I feel small. Vulnerable. Shattered.
And also wound tight in a way I haven’t felt in years.
Gage’s biceps bunch and the strong muscles in his shoulders tighten as he leans down to turn on the bedside lamp.
He must read the heat in my expression because he chuckles lightly. “You need to sleep, babe.”
I nod because he’s right. Between the flight, the wine, and the heady conversation, I’m drained.
I lay back in the bed, rest my head against the pillow that smells like Gage. Spicy cologne and clean soap. He pulls the covers up to my shoulders, flips off the light, and presses another kiss to my forehead.
His large hand strokes the top of my head, pushing my hair out of my eyes.
“Sleep well, Calla Lily.”
“Good night, Gage.” My eyes are already closing, my heart rate slowing. My mind drifts as relief wraps around my thoughts. I feel warm and taken care of. Safe.
A flashback to him caring for me after Grandma passed rolls through my mind again. Gage really has been there for me all along.
“Good night,” he whispers.
I hear the soft snick of the bedroom door as it closes and then, I sleep.