Page 137 of Against the Clock

“I want to hold your hand so bad right now,” he says, and a regret-filled chuckle leaves his mouth. The sling holding his left arm in place rustles as he readjusts himself on the seat. “You asked me: what happens after football? And I’m not going to lie, Kelsey, that question has scared the hell out of me for years now.”

I tear my eyes from the road and look at him again, the lump in my throat slowly dissolving. “I’m sorry,” I murmur.

“No. No, Kelsey, love, don’t be sorry. Don’t be sorry because you helped me find the answer. What comes after football?” He laughs, and it’s deep, full of emotion. “The answer is you, Kelsey Cole. We do. I’ll finally have time to do all the things I haven’t had time for, or haven’t had enough time to do well. You’re the answer to a question I’ve been asking for years, so don’t you dare apologize for that.”

“Damn it, Daniel Harrison,” I say, laughing as tears start to streak down my face. “I’m trying to drive over here.”

“You’re doing a great job,” he says soothingly. “Don’t forget it’s the next exit.”

I give him a rueful look. “I know.”

“I had a feeling backseat driving would stop you from crying.” He laughs again, the sound hitching as he sucks in a breath.

“Aren’t you the master of reverse psychology?” I mutter, narrowing my eyes at him in concern.

I push the signal lever up, and the truck ticks as I merge into the exit, slowing it as we round the curve and make our way to the back road where Daniel lives.

“You know, I might need some help getting around the house with my arm so messed up.”

“Oh gosh, I hadn’t even thought of that,” I say, worry for him spiking again.

“Yeah, you know, someone to help me pull the covers up in bed so I stay warm, or make sure I take my medicine at the right times… make sure I’m clean, give me a sponge bath.”

I snort, and sure enough, he’s laughing silently, his mouth twisted to the side as he tries to hold it in.

“Are you asking me to give you a sponge bath?”

“There is nothing I would like more than a sponge bath,” he says. “Well, actually, I can think of a couple things I would like more.”

“Oh yeah? I have no idea what those could be.” I turn onto the long drive to Daniel’s house, the spotlit trees glowing as we pass them.

“Well, the first on the list is you moving in with me,” he says breezily.

The truck bounces roughly and I take my foot off the accelerator, trying to compute what he’s saying.

“So you’re asking me to move in and give you a sponge bath?”

“I was kidding about the sponge bath. Unless… you’re into that.”

“But the moving in part?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around it.

“Kelsey, I would marry you in a heartbeat if I thought you were ready. So yes, yes, I am asking you to move in with me because I don’t want to wake up again without you by my side. I want to go to sleep with your body curled up next to me. I want to watch you wake up over coffee in the mornings, I want to make you laugh when you get home from work. I want you, here, with me for as long as you’ll put up with me.”

“Daniel…”

“You don’t have to answer now,” he says smoothly, misreading me entirely. “I know I’m moving fast. I know it’s probably too fast. But I’m old enough to know what I want, and it’s you, Kels. You.”

“Yes,” I say breathlessly. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

He does a fist pump, then grunts. “Are sponge baths off the table? Because that might be more of a serious question than I thought.”

I laugh. “I think I can probably give you a sponge bath or two.”

He waggles his eyebrows at me. “I’ll make it up to you.”

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