Page 89 of Brace and Chase

“Ican’ttalk about Max yet, sweetheart,” he confesses with a pained expression. “I promised you I’d tell you everything when I could, but Ican’t.”

I want to scream“why?”at him, but I don’t.

He’s made himself clear, and the explanation is probably part of the problem he—for whatever reason—can’t bring himself to talk about.

I need to decide now if I can live with that, and then move on.

Which is what I should’ve done last week, but I didn’t.

I think about what a day without him by my side every minute would be like, and boy, that is one bleak day. There would be less laughter, definitely less orgasms, and lesslife.

“Okay,” I tell him simply, deciding I’m accepting this—him.

“Good. Now I didn’t mean to imply that youhaveto tellanyone anything,” he clarifies. “I want you to feel comfortable with maybe doing so, that’s all. If it weren’t for the fact that the team could be impacted if they react badly, then I’d tell them all in a heartbeat.”

“You would?” I ask in wonder.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffs. “Of course I would. Charlie Heart is myboyfriend.” His eyes are wide open as he waits for me to see how impressive that is. I don’t see it, but in any case I get stuck on that word.

“I am?” I ask, leaning back.

“Of course you are,” he shouts. “What did you think this was? I sucked your dick for fuck’s sake.”

I take his words in and then I have to snicker.

“Jesus, you’re ridiculous,” I say between laughs. He smiles, clearly pleased with himself.

“But I’m yourboooooyfriend,” he teases like a middle schooler.

“I guess you are,” I tell him softly, the smile permanently etched on my face now. I walk to him, take a hold of his hips, pull him to me, and capture his lips with mine for a slow kiss. Damn, I really want to go back upstairs and have him do those dirty things to me.

But then life barges into our moment once more.

My alarm that’s set for five minutes before we have to leave for the game goes off. Nik groans loudly and drops his head all the way to my shoulder.

He’s very dramatic, my boyfriend.

God, I have a boyfriend.

The striking realization stays with me while we get our shit together and manage to get on the road just a couple of minutes late.

We’re halfway to the arena when he speaks again, after taking a big gulp of his protein shake.

“So, can I know who you gave your tickets for tonight’s game to?”

“Oh,” I mumble, surprised by the question. I’d forgotten all about it. “Of course you can know. I gave them to my neighbors, Michelle and Kelly.” His brow furrows in concentration. I bet he’s trying to remember if he’s ever heard me mention them before. “They’re the ones I went to talk to when you went to Bear’s place for your fake traditional dinner,” I remind him.

“Ah,” he says with a nod.

“They’re cool,” I assure him. “And they don’t know I was talking about you, but if you feel good about it, we could ask them to come to dinner sometime next week?” Then I start word vomiting because my nerves get the best of me. “They work mostly weekends, but I don’t think we have a game on Wednesday, right? I can check with them, see if they’re free.”

I don’t shut up until he puts one of his big hands on my thigh.

“Why don’t you think about it this weekend, and if you want then of course I’d love to meet them. But your brothers are here, so let’s focus on that and on beating the crap out of Atlanta this weekend, okay?”

I suck in a lungful of air and nod.

“Okay.” I take his hand, maybe grip it harder than normal, and then bring it to my lips. “Thank you,” I whisper. And no other words are needed after that.

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