Page 52 of A Whole New Play

My stomach clenches with alarm.

He continues, “If I do that, will you agree to one of my ideas? I know you don’t like either, but I’d appreciate it if you’d at least be willing to compromise.”

I hate how he makes me sound like I’m being unreasonable.

Though, from his perspective, I suppose he thinks I am.

I cross my arms and think.

As much as I want to hold my ground and insist this accident doesn’t need to change anything, I can tell Carter won’t let that happen. He can’t let it happen.

If I don’t agree to move in, he’s going to stress about finding a way to make sure I leave his house before it gets dark. His focus will be diverted from football, and his career could be in jeopardy once again. Even though I know it wouldn’t be my fault, I still don’t want to feel responsible for that.

With a resigned sigh, I uncross my arms and say, “Fine.”

His back straightens. “Fine?”

I nod. “I’ll consider sleeping over at your house when I work late nights. Happy?”

“No.”

“What?” I glower. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“No, you can’t just say you’re going to stay over on late nights. I want to redo your contract to one for a live-in nanny.”

My mouth falls open. I snap it closed and shake my head. “That’s going overboard.”

“I don’t care,” he says with resolve. “I don’t want us to just say you’ll stay over at night and then you forget something at your place so you decide to drive home anyway. Call me paranoid. Call me controlling. I don’t care. This arrangement makes the most sense while I’m in season and playing late-night games. Not to mention traveling for away games. You’re staying at your dad’s place right now, so it’s not like you have to break a lease or anything. Moving in shouldn’t be a problem.”

Except for the fact we made out in your kitchen less than four hours ago…

I search his gaze.

I know he said to forget the kiss and that he wouldn’t cross the line between us again, but could he honestly do that? I’m not sure. But why does it sting so much to think he could?

Because you’re romanticizing your relationship with him when you have no business doing so.

I’m a fool.

Carter is a professional athlete. He’s handsome, rich, and surprisingly down to earth. He can have any woman he wants. He won’t miss the loss of one potential conquest. Especially not when he and I already hooked up before.

That’s not fair.

I acknowledge Carter’s promise to not pursue anything with me stems from his desire to guarantee my well-being. He’s putting my safety over his desire to sleep with me. He’s being a gentleman. I should be touched that he cares about me that much.

And I am… sort of.

Fatigue settles over me, and I suddenly lose the will to argue anymore. Carter’s points are valid, and he’s effectively solved any issues I have with moving in. At least the ones that I can share out loud.

No way am I going to tell him my ego has taken a hit from how easy it is for him to resist his attraction to me. Or how I fear I won’t have the same strength. That would be mortifying.

“All right.” I exhale. “You win. I’ll move in with you.”

Carter’s face floods with relief. “Thank you, Val. This arrangement will be the best for everyone. You’ll see.” He reaches forward and grabs my hand off the mattress, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

His touch sends sparks up my arm and into my stomach. Butterflies take flight.

I offer him a weak smile in response, but I don’t trust myself to speak.

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