31. Chapter 31
Dom
A knock breaks through the hum of the TV. I'm not sure what to expect— maybe Mariana is sending me a meal. Hell, even flowers, as a cheeky, spontaneous gesture. But when I open the door, it's her I see.
My lips part in surprise. "Aren't you supposed to be on your way back to Seattle?"
She smiles. Warmth bursts in my chest. It blooms through my torso, the moment my brain catches up to the fact that yes, she's here, at my hotel room's door, and I don't really need an explanation. The awe shining inside of me is enough.
"I am supposed to be going there, yes," she says. "But, at the last minute, Cora decided to be here for this game and I decided to join her."
There must be special lighting in the hotel's hallway I didn't notice before, because she glows, to the point I can imagine a halo around her.
I finally let go of the door and take a couple of steps toward her. My hands go into my pockets, and I give her a smile of my own.
"And what kind of visit is this?" I ask.
All sorts of possibilities run through my head, but I don't let them run too wild.
If someone catches her we'd get in trouble.
We're both under our own set of rules, designed to protect the players' ability to excel in games.
I'm not sure what would happen to her, but, me?
The coaches would penalize me somehow for the distraction.
Even if it is one of my friends catching us, I'd need plausible deniability.
It's better if this is a professional visit for some reason.
She smirks. "The kind where we probably don't want anyone seeing me here in the hallway."
Dammit. Like I could resist her at all.
"Fuck. Come in," I say.
The door isn't fully closed when her lips latch to mine. I bring her close. Take a deep breath and bring her slowly into the room. I make a point of moving at a languid pace, even in our kiss, enjoying the way our mouths and tongues move together.
"Be gentle with me tonight," I say. "I had to treat my shoulders after last time. The medical team wasn't happy with me."
"Did you tell them how…?" She caresses my chest.
"No, but they guessed."
"Oh, no." She giggles and pulls me closer to bed. "How embarrassing."
"I played it off cocky. None of it was major. I only got some minor ligament irritation. Worth it, if you ask me."
She laughs. "I bet you always play it off cocky."
"Tengo con qué, Duquesa." I kiss her jaw. "The evidence shows I have reason to play it off cocky."
I glance at my erection, clear in the way it tents my joggers, then at her. I raise an eyebrow, because enough said.
She chuckles and gets on my bed. "I'm here so you can show me the evidence, Dominic."
And I do.
We're still smiling an hour later when we get in the tub.
She's sitting in front of me, between my legs, and leaning on my chest. There's nothing fancy about the moment, with the bathroom's instant fan noise and the lack of bubbles or bath salts, but we set the mirror light to soft and pretend we're in candlelight.
And with the water so clear, I get to admire the hills, rounds, and swells of her body, and the dark brown tips of her breasts.
The smell of her hair products tickle my nose, and I take a deep breath.
My muscles melt in the heat of the tub and I relax into it. I pool water in the cup of my hand, then release it on her chest. The drops travel down her skin until they merge with their source.
In our post-climax bliss, it's easy to dissolve into the moment, and the ease with which we steal another hour together. It's always been like this. Creating secret spaces just for us. Falling into them as automatically as we breathe.
"If I got things right," I say in a low voice, "I'm your third hookup post-divorce. Right?"
It feels right to keep the ambiance soft for a second longer.
"What?" She chuckles.
"In the club that first night. You said you went on a couple fun dates, which I'm assuming means I'm your third hookup."
"Oh, that." She caresses my leg. "How many times have we had sex now?"
Nine times, but who's counting. Obviously me, but probably not her, so I don't reveal anything.
"I think you're asking the wrong question." I kiss the spot behind her ear. "The question is if you count it per person or per encounter."
"Mmh. Per person, I think. Then yeah. You're my third hookup. Why?"
"Porque la tercera es la vencida, baby."
"Oh my God!" she laughs. "And followed by a ‘baby’? Honestly, Dom."
"Fine." I chuckle. "I'll just use the other nicknames, then."
"I could do with no nicknames at all."
"Princesa. Mi reina. Duquesa. I'd do better keeping to the theme. Got it."
"Ugh, don't ruin the evening."
I chuckle. "Fine. I won't. It's such a nice, surprising evening we're having."
My arms find a resting position around her, and I graze at the skin of her belly with my fingertips. Despite the simplicity, it's a tender moment, and I smile. It feels right to have her against me like this. So close to me our breathing is in sync. Perhaps even our heartbeats are.
"Can you believe it?" She rests her head back on the crook of my neck. "After everything, and how angry we were when we met again… here we are."
Against all odds, Mariana and I are together once more, within a strict agreement.
It's the only reason this works. Without it, moments like this would override my pride, and I'd try to hold on.
But I refuse to put myself back through hell again.
I'll do much better if I can let go in peace this time.
Maybe I can be proud of how we're dealing with everything. This all proves I'm a better man than I was when we broke up, when I called her, and when she came back to my life. Now I can be pleased with that, as much as I am for the way I'm protecting my heart.
"Here we are." I kiss the crown of her head. "But looking back, I think there's one thing I need to admit. I'm not sure how angry you would have been, if I hadn't fought with you at that welcome party."
"I wanted to be cold." She sighs.
"I wanted to be unaffected. But then I saw you and you were not cold."
"And you were not unaffected."
"So I was angry." I gather her tighter in my arms. "It didn't last long."
My decisions may have been different, knowing I'd see her again, if I had accepted life would push me to her side again. Of all the predictions I had, I somehow didn't consider this. That we might end up in each other's arms again.
Now we're here, and I don't see how it could have happened any other way.
"It didn't last long." She sighs. "We always had a way to understand each other I never found anywhere else."
"And that's why we're here. Now I want every single moment I can get with you."
"Until we're done."
"And only because we won't fall in love again."
I say it for both of us to remember. Fine— because I need to remember. It's the key to fulfilling this arrangement and doing right by our past.
She takes a deep breath and speaks in the same soft tone. "No. We won't fall in love again. We can't."
"Then maybe, to each other, we'll just be someone we used to love, someone we're fond of, that we hear about sometimes because we share friends."
"Or maybe…"
She takes my hands and wraps herself in my arms. Tighter. I smile against her temple and breathe her in. Again.
"Maybe we could be friends," she says. "Casually checking in once in a while. 'Hey, how are you doing? How's life in Seattle? I'll be visiting Cora soon so maybe we can have dinner together and catch up.'"
"That would be nice."
"Yeah. That would be nice."
She leaves for her bedroom an hour later, and we're still smiling when I close the door behind her.
Acceptance lightens my limbs, and I'm grounded, even thankful.
This feeling— it's real affection. I can feel it again, now that I know it's chained deep into the soil and straight on the hard, rocky mantle.
I grin when I enter the field the next day. I get cocky, because she's up in a box with the other front office staff. I'll show off, because she's watching me play.
All the bliss disappears in a single second, sliced into a million pieces by the pain that shoots through me when I catch the ball and three guys tackle me at the same time. Something is very wrong.