Wesley’s Epilogue
Wesley’s Epilogue
Five Months Later
We don’t have time for this.
I’m very aware of that. The clock on the nightstand and the morning light creeping through the blinds are stark reminders that the world's still moving even when I want it to slow the hell down.
Nathan doesn’t care.
He hooks a finger in the waistband of my sleep shorts and tugs me back against his chest before I can fully sit up.
“We’ve got ten minutes,” he murmurs against my neck, voice still rough with sleep. “We can be quick.”
I laugh, breathless, the sound dissolving the second his mouth follows the line of my shoulder. “You said that last time.”
“And I was only slightly wrong.” He grins into my skin.
I should get up and be the responsible one. I should remind him he’s meeting his agent in less than an hour.
Instead, I cave.
Because even after five months, I want him as badly as he wants me, and because being tangled up in our sheets, all warmth and lazy touches, still feels too good to be true.
We don’t rush. He rolls on top of me, his body weight pressing me into the mattress. My body aches with need at the contact. His hands know where to go, tugging my shorts down my legs until the only thing separating us is his boxers, which are gone just as fast.
His mouth trails down my neck, and I lose myself in the feel of his tongue against my skin. He continues south until he teases my nipple, toying with the sensitive bud. My back arches up into him, his length pressing hard against my thigh.
I push him over, rolling on top of him, letting my hair cascade around us as I kiss him deeply, our hands roaming.
I sink down his body, gripping his cock and moving up the length of it until his eyes darken. My grin is playful as I lower my mouth and wrap my lips around him, swirling my tongue across the tip.
His hand moves to my head, grip tightening on my hair, as I work him over with my mouth. I take my time working him over until he groans, a gravelly sound from deep in his throat.
Only then do I slide up, lifting up enough for him to slide on a condom and line himself up under me. When I sink down onto him, I gasp, getting lost in the feel of him stretching me so perfectly.
He doesn’t give me more than a second of straddling him, hips moving with him deep inside of me, before he’s back on top of me, setting the pace.
Nathan loves it when I let go for him, when I let him have control.
I love it, too. Inside this room, on this bed, is the only place that I don’t overthink a single thing.
His brown eyes meet mine as he thrusts deeper into me.
“God, you’re fucking perfect, baby.” He leans down, kissing me slowly.
I wrap my legs around his waist, opening myself wider so that each thrust of his cock feels deeper than the last.
“You said we’d be quick,” I tease.
I’d known when he said it that it was a lie. We like to take our time.
“Forgive me, baby.” He thrusts fast and hard. “I lied.”
I moan against his neck.
He takes his time, fucking me at a slow and relentless pace.
I can feel every nerve in my body tightening, my pussy clenching him tighter as I get close to the edge.
Then, he brushes his thumb against my clit, sending me all the way over it.
The orgasm stretches all the way down to my toes.
He thrusts a few more times before coming and collapsing next to me.
I give myself two minutes, staring at the ceiling and catching my breath. There is nothing that compares to this with him. There never will be.
When my two minutes are up, reality taps me on the shoulder. Even amazing sex doesn’t stop my sense of responsibility from pushing me forward.
I groan and roll out of bed, tugging one of his shirts over my head. “Okay. Up. You cannot be late today.”
He props himself up on his elbows, watching me with that smug, lazy smile that still gives me butterflies. “You sure? Pretty sure my agent would understand.”
“Your contract is getting signed,” I say, pointing at him. “Today. You are not blowing that because you couldn’t get out of bed.”
He laughs. “Fair. But for the record, it’d be worth it.” He heads to the closet, pulling on dress pants and a collared shirt. “Besides, it’s only been a week since the season ended, so I’m sure ownership is still riding high.”
“Losing in the championships is still losing.” I grab my phone off the dresser.
He sneaks up behind me and nips at my ear. “It’s so hot when you do that.”
I giggle, turning to wrap my arms around him. “Do what?”
“Go all competitive athlete on me.” He gives me a quick kiss, pushing me backwards toward the bed. “Makes me want to lay you back down and show you exactly…”
“Nope!” I cut him off, ducking under his arm and down the hall. “Now, we really don’t have time. The moving truck is going to be here soon with my stuff.”
He only had to ask twice before I agreed to move in with him. Maybe that’s insane, but after spending almost every night together when we weren’t on the road, it just made sense.
Our new place isn’t flashy like his penthouse; there is no rooftop infinity pool or modern fixtures. It’s a penthouse at an older complex. It has creaky hardwood floors, a weird built-in bookshelf, and actual art on the walls. It feels lived-in and permanent, like someone plans to stay.
And we both do.
“Leaving my place still feels weird,” I admit.
Nathan stands and wraps his arms around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. “You’re not really leaving it. You left most of the furniture for your dad. And with your sister transferring to the university here, you’re bound to have endless family dinners there.”
I smile, warmth spreading through my chest. “I know. It feels like closing a chapter.”
“Or starting another,” he says quietly.
He has a way of calming my anxiety and quieting the pressure that used to overtake me. I sink into him, grinning.
My dad’s going to be a fifteen-minute drive away, and my sister’s starting fresh. For the first time in a long time, my family feels like it’s moving toward something instead of being stuck in the past.
“I’m actually excited,” I say. “I get to have them close without being stuck in all the hard memories.”
He presses a kiss to my temple. “You deserve that.”
I turn in his arms, looking up at him. At the man who chose me publicly, stubbornly, for real. At the life we’re building without pretending it’s temporary.
“And what about you?” I ask
“We’ll see how lunch goes.” He huffs out a laugh. “I can’t believe my parents actually offered to take me out to celebrate my contract extension.”
“I’m glad they are coming around,” I say, nudging him toward the door.
“Only because of you.” He gives me another kiss, our hands lingering on each other.
“Go sign your contract, superstar.”
He grins.
My phone starts ringing. I see the screen and freeze.
Coach Folley.
Nathan notices immediately. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t respond, already having answered. “Hi, Coach.”
Nathan hovers, suddenly very alert.
“Wesley,” Coach Folley says, all business. “I’ll get right to it. We finalized the roster this morning.”
My throat goes dry. The hallway feels too narrow. I’d given up hope for this call. The roster is always finalized right around now, at the end of June, but I assumed most already knew if they made it.
I have mentally prepared myself for the disappointment. There are other years and opportunities. This won’t make or break me.
“You’ve been selected for the National Team roster.”
For a second, I don’t breathe.
“Oh,” I manage, which is wildly inadequate for the moment I’ve been working toward since I was a kid kicking a ball against a cracked driveway. “Thank you. I… Thank you. You won’t regret this.”
“I know I won’t,” he says. “Look, I have more of these calls to make. Someone will reach out for a more detailed conversation. Enjoy the moment. You’ve earned it.”
The call ends just like that.
I stare at my phone as if it might explode.
Nathan’s voice is careful now. “Wes?”
I look up at him and promptly lose my mind.
“I made it,” I choke out, hands flying to my face. “I made the team. Oh my god. I fucking did it.”
He crosses the space between us in two strides, pulling me into his arms like he’s afraid I might float away. “You did it,” he says, voice thick. “Holy shit, you did it.”
I laugh and cry at the same time, words tumbling over each other. “I tried to stay calm and professional, but I blacked out a little and…”
He kisses my forehead, then my cheek, then my lips, grounding me. “I am so proud of you.”
Emotion swells in my chest, too big to contain.
I picture little-girl me, dreaming of the U.S. Women’s National Team as if it were something magical and far away. All of the sacrifices, the tunnel vision, and the belief that I had to do it alone or not at all brought me right here.
And then I look at Nathan.
At the man who chose me despite my mistakes. The man who chose me for me alone. He makes this feel bigger, brighter, sweeter.
Having him here doesn’t take anything away from the dream. It completes it.
I lace my fingers through his. “On to the next big dream.”
He grins. “Good thing I’ve had a lot of practice chasing after you.