Chapter 18 #2
“Is it the show?” he probes, trying to understand. “The other women here?”
She winces, as if he struck a nerve.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” he says earnestly, sweeping his fingers through her hair, arching her face up, hoping she can see the truth in his eyes.
“It’s always been you, Win. It always will be.
No other woman even exists in that way for me, not when I can be with you.
I would never jeopardize what we could have. I would never hurt you like that.”
“I know.” She reaches up to hold his hand against her cheek. “I trust you, Ty. Completely. I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about me.”
He frowns, not understanding.
“It’s just—” She sighs. “I spent my whole childhood letting people get the best of me. I didn’t fight back.
I hid. I was afraid all the time. I didn’t know my own power.
And I thought that changed when I moved to New York and built up my own life, but then I came to this show, and it took, what, like a week for me to break down and pack my bags?
A few mean words and I was ready to give up, to run away.
I thought I was stronger than that, but I wasn’t.
And who the hell knows what’s waiting for us when we get back home?
The viewers could hate me. Your fans could hate me.
Even if they love us together, there will be some people who don’t, who want to rip us apart, who will leave the nastiest comments and send the vilest messages.
You’re a public figure. It’s just part of your job.
And I want to believe none of it will matter.
I want to believe I’ll be able to handle anything, but what if I can’t?
I don’t trust myself, Ty. I’m not a safe bet. You might think I am, but I’m not.”
“Hey,” he soothes. “Shh. You are strong. You’re one of the strongest people I know.
You never let them break you. You never let them change you.
You never let them steal your joy. You’re incredible, Win.
And I hope you understand that if it ever came to that, I would choose you.
Not hockey. Not the fame. Not the money.
If what you needed was for us to move to some log cabin in the middle of the woods where no one could find us, I’d figure out how to chop firewood and hunt a deer and grow some fucking potatoes or something, whatever it took to make you happy. ”
“I would never ask you to give up hockey for me.”
“You wouldn’t have to ask.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know.” He brushes his thumb affectionately over her freckles. “Just like I know it would never come to that. Because I trust you, just as much as you trust me.”
Her expression warms, but a small shadow of doubt lingers in her eyes.
He hates it.
“Did something happen?” he asks, searching for an explanation.
She shakes her head. “No.”
“You’re sure?”
A sad little smile passes over her lips, totally unconvincing. “I don’t need you to save me anymore, Ty.”
“I don’t want to save you.” He takes her hand, squeezes her fingers as he holds them to his heart. “I want to fight with you.”
“There’s nothing—”
Her eyes go wide and she breaks off. Her gaze jumps to the sky overhead.
Every ounce of gloom disappears, as if a switch has been flipped, turning to pure radiance instead.
A wide smile overtakes her cheeks, this one full of unadulterated joy.
She fists his jacket in glee, arching into him as her chin lifts. He doesn’t want to look away.
“Ty!”
He holds off one more second, breathing in the wonder etched across her face, then looks up. Bright streaks flash across the silvery sky.
“Did you see that?” Winnie points.
He lifts his arm. “Look there!”
Spark after spark shoots through the midnight haze and disappears into the bright orange glow of a sun that refuses to disappear.
It’s the most otherworldly thing he’s ever experienced.
Logically, he knows they’re just rocks burning up in the atmosphere.
But it feels like some sort of mystical sign, as though the stars themselves are falling to Earth.
Day and night blend. Space and time cease to exist. It’s as if the very fabric of the universe is unraveling, as if the threads of fate are twisting and twining into something new—something made just for them.
Tyler holds Winnie close.
At first, they ooh and ahh and jolt and gesture. Then they settle, comfortable in the silence and in each other’s arms, content to just sit and enjoy the show. When the dazzling display begins to slow, he starts watching her instead. A far-off look fills her hazel eyes.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks softly.
She bites her lower lip, pulling it between her teeth as if trying to rein in the smile tugging at the edges of her mouth. He’s overcome with the urge to steal a taste, but once he starts, he won’t be able to stop. “I’m thinking about how I would draw us.”
“Do you do that a lot?”
“No.” She shakes her head as her sly grin deepens. “I mean, yes. But it used to be something that mostly happened when I was reading or daydreaming, you know? Not when I was just…living.”
“And that’s a good thing, right?”
She darts a quick, burning glance his way before turning back to the sky. “It’s a very good thing, Ty.”
He runs his fingers along her upper arm, unable to stop touching her. “Have you ever drawn me?”
Her cheeks flush bright red.
“That often, huh?” He smirks. “Lots of Mrs. Tyler Briggs scrawls in those notebooks of yours?”
“There may be a few…”
He can feel his lips shift into a shit-eating grin, but he doesn’t bother to fight it.
She rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to look so smug.”
“I feel smug.”
Tyler pulls one of her legs over his hip so she’s straddling him. They’ve been out here for a while. The cameras must be gone by now, and if they’re not? Well, he’s lost the urge to care. If someone wants to look, let them. She did call dibs, after all.
“You know, I’ve been following you on Instagram for a while now,” he says slowly, his large hands traveling up her thighs.
She watches him through narrowed eyes, highly suspicious.
And rightfully so, as he palms her ass and slides her forward.
She gasps as her center connects with the part of his body currently surging to life. “Any chance you’ve drawn me like that?”
A wicked gleam enters her eyes. She grabs his shoulders for leverage and leans close, pressing her breasts flush against his chest. With a seductive rock of her hips, she runs her tongue up the side of his neck and murmurs, “Maybe.”
He drops his head back with a groan. “Fuck, Win.”
“Is that what you want to hear, Ty? That I’ve pictured you inside me?”
“Yes.”
“That I’ve imagined my hand wrapped around you?”
“Yes.”
“That I’ve visualized us up against your locker?”
“Yes.”
“On your floor?”
“Yes.”
“In your bed with my legs spread wide?”
“Hell, yes.”
She punctuates each vision with a pointed roll of her hips.
He slips his hands beneath her jacket, running his fingers up the burning skin of her back.
She shivers as the frigid night air seeps through the opening.
But she doesn’t stop. She eagerly finds his lips, no longer interested in speaking.
He loves her like this. On top of him. Commanding.
In charge. Fully secure in her hold over him.
It’s sexy as hell. She should be this confident all the time. If it were up to him, she would be.
A thought permeates his lust.
Maybe it is up to him.
Maybe if he can just show her how utterly obsessed with her he is, if he can prove to her that nothing else matters—not the show or the fame or other people’s opinions—maybe she’ll finally see herself the way he does.
Perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
Tyler unzips her jacket, letting it fall open like a curtain around them just in case the cameras are still rolling. He keeps one hand behind her back to hold her steady and drops the other toward the seam of her very thin pajama pants. As soon as he finds the right spot, she gasps into his lips.
“Ty!”
He pulls his head back, looking into her eyes as he slowly circles his thumb. “I love you, Win.”
She opens her mouth as if to speak but gasps instead. He loves the way her lids grow heavy, the hooded passion in her eyes as she holds his gaze steady. She puts one hand against his chest, bracing herself as her breasts heave.
“What if—”
Her eyes suddenly shut and she cuts off, gripping his shoulder tighter as he applies a little more pressure. He doesn’t care if anyone sees. She shouldn’t either. She’s fucking glorious.
Her arm quivers.
He keeps pressing, circling, pinching, as her thighs clench tighter and the muscles in her back start to spasm beneath his palm. Her head bows.
“Ty,” she pants.
“Please, Win.” He rises up, kissing her neck. “Let me see you come undone.”
“Ty.”
His name on her lips is hardly more than a puff of air, but it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.
She runs her fingers through his hair, searching for a handhold.
Her nails dig in like claws as her entire body goes taut.
He keeps his mouth to her throat, smiling against it when he feels her pulse jump.
Her hips jolt as her orgasm hits. He doesn’t stop.
He keeps circling, gently easing her back down from the high.
When she collapses against him, he slips his hand free and wraps it around her as he cradles her against his chest, not letting anything go any further.
This was about her, not him. All he wants now is to hold her.
Tyler glances down, memorizing the rosy hue of her cheeks, the black tendrils curling around her head like a halo, the plump swelling of her lips, the deep sated evergreen rimming her irises.
He’s imagined this moment a thousand times, imagined so much more, but he never imagined it would hit him like this, as if his whole future, his whole world, were coming at him all at once.
He can’t lose her.
Whatever it takes, he won’t.
Tyler presses a soft kiss to her temple. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Still half in a daze, she rolls her eyes with a soft smile. “You’ve been concussed one too many times for me to believe that.”
He laughs and drops his head back against the chair, following her lead.
If she wants to keep it light, he will. For now.
But he’s going to make it clear, today, tomorrow, the next day, and every day after that she’s the only woman he sees.
Which is why, even as he returns his gaze to the sky, he can’t stop himself from adding, “Really, though. You are.”