Page 32 of It's Always Us

“Yeah, or however you’ll date me, given our current unaccommodating and unique situation. I’ll call, video, text, write long love letters, whatever you want. I just have to get through the end of this season, and then . . . ”

Her eyes drop away and I realize what I said.Shit. I detest the distance between us.

“Lex, look at me.” She doesn’t. “Please.” It takes a second, but her eyes finally make their way to mine. “No letters. I want to talk to you. I want to see your face all the time.”

Her lips press together slightly, which used to mean she was thinking. “I guess I’ll date you.” A playful smile appears, and dammit, she’s going to kill me.

“You guess?”

“I mean . . . I already married you, so I’ll give dating you a go.”

I fall back on my bed and hear her laugh. It’s the first time I’ve heard that sound, and it’s so powerful it creates a burning sensation in my throat. I give myself a second and then bring the phone to my face again. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“You’re lucky I married you. I’m not sure your form of dating will work out for us. I’m not much of a talker.”

“Baby, I’ll just listen to you breathe on the other end of the line.” She has no idea how much I mean that.

“You’re still a flirt.” Her cheeks turn a bit pink, and this not being able to touch her thing is for shit. “Where are you?”

“I’m home. In my room.” I move the phone to show her my space.

“How is it living in the city?”

“I’ve gotten used to it. At first, I loved it. The constant busyness and hustle, but I miss the quiet and calm. I’m ready for a change.”

“What’s on your shoulder?”

I press on the ice pack that’s beginning to thaw. “Ice pack. My shoulder is shot. I have to have surgery as soon as the season’s over. I’m afraid I’ve waited too long.”

She sits on a stool, propping her phone on the workbench.

“Will you have that there . . . in New York?”

I remove the ice pack and prop my sore body against my headboard, not wanting to talk about this part but knowing we have to. “Actually, in Phoenix. I have the best surgeon, and Sean’s there. He and I will train together in the offseason once I’m ready.” I hesitate to share the next part, but I want to be open with her. “Rumors are the Kingsnakes might be interested. Their quarterback is done after this season, and it’d be a nice change. Playing with Sean would only sweeten the deal.”

She nods but doesn’t say anything.

“This surgery has to work, and I’ll have intensive physical therapy. I have to prove that I can still throw, or any interest will die. New York could be history, too, if they want to change things up.”

One cheek scrunches, creating a small crease to the side of her mouth that’s new. “Is this all why you and I would be a big deal? I’d make it appear like you weren’t taking things seriously.”

I weigh my head from side to side. “Lex, it’s all business. Each organization wants to have the best team, and the best teams have loyal and focused players. Getting married the night before a big game shows where my focus was. Any organization would lose its shit over that. If somehow it leaks, it leaks, and I’ll deal with it. Maybe it will be the end for me, and I will have lived the dream.” I wait for her to look at me. “I will never regret it, no matter what.”

“So, you’d be fine if your playing career was over?” Her question is blunt and hits hard.

I contemplate it to be sure I answer honestly. “Fine probably isn’t the right word. I don’t want to be done playing yet. I love it, except this, not being able to be with you.” I shrug and then wince. “It could be the end anyway if the surgery hits a snag or the pain isn’t better.” A fist presses down right in the center of my chest, and I want to be done talking about this, so I change the subject. “What are you working on?”

She rubs her forehead. “Dodge Ram with a bad fuel pump. The owner put dirty fuel in it and clogged it up. She’s going to have to sit for parts.”

“What else?”

She glances around her space. “A blown transmission with a bad torque converter. The guys pulled it today.”

The guys. I loathe them and their proximity to her.

“You still drive that old truck?”

She smiles. “She still runs like a dream.”

---