Page 19 of Run Game
“I’m not hungry,” I say, shoving away from the counter and storming toward the guest room. I hear Dalton’s footsteps behind me as I enter the room, attempting to shut the door. But he’s too fast, pushing firmly against me and barging in. “Get out.”
He stands there, unmoving as I pull the covers back and climb into the bed with my back to him. I’m hoping that if I ignore him, he’ll leave. I just need some time to think about what I’m feeling andwhy.Why I’m so fucked up that something as simple as another person pouring me a bowl of Lucky Charms triggers me to the point where I run away.
“Who did this to you?” he whispers. “I’ll fucking end them.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to find my strength. But it seems like the more time I spend with Dalton, the more I feel myself giving in to the idea of being taken care of. And that would be great if this were a real marriage that wasn’t ending in six weeks. But like every other relationship I’ve had, this one will be over, and I’ll be back on my own. I don’t need to fall deeper into this feeling of being cared for, just to have to let it all go again.
“Nobody did anything to me, Dalton,” I say, still facing away. “I don’t need anything. I can get my own food. I can take care of myself.”
I feel his weight as he sits on the bed behind me. “Iknow you can, but you shouldn’t have to all the time,” he says softly. “Look at me.”
When I feel like I have my shit together enough not to cry, I roll over. I don’t make eye contact, instead choosing to look at his hand, which is resting on his bent knee. I stay silent, giving him a chance to talk, so maybe he says his piece and leaves.
“It’s not really a secret that I’m glad we fucked this up the way we did,” he begins. “I know it’s not what you want, and I know you’re going to leave as soon as you can. I’ve accepted that. I’d spend a fucking lifetime undoing all the shit that people have done to hurt you. Proving to you that you’re worth so much more than you think.” He pauses, swallowing roughly. “But I don’t have that long. Please give me this, Dia. Just let me spend the next six weeks showing you what you deserve.”
I exhale a shaky breath. “Then what?” I ask. “Go back to being on my own, but knowing what I’m missing out on? No thanks.”
“Do you think you’re the only one in this thing?” he asks. “The only one who’s struggling? Because I’m being forced to watch my wife unable to accept a bowl of cereal from me because she thinks it makes her weak and dependent. I’m not likethem. I’m not going to hurt you. Just let me in.”
This man is practically begging to take care of me. Even knowing that I’m leaving him as soon as I’m allowed. Why can’t I give him this? Am I really that broken that I can’t suck it up for a little while and just be here with him after everything he’s doing for me?
I want to, so badly. But I justcan’t.
I roll over, giving him my back again. He apparently gets the message that I don’t have an answer for him as hestands up and quietly leaves the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving me wishing I was strong enough to give him what he deserves.
I wake abruptly when a severe hunger pain rips me from my not-so-peaceful sleep. I’m reminded quickly that I went to bed without eating a single thing all day. I check my phone to see that it’s after midnight, so I quietly open the door and pad down the hallway. Everything in the house is dark, which means Dalton must’ve gone to bed already.
When I reach the kitchen, the first thing I see is a small, rectangular piece of paper on the counter. I walk over, picking it up, realizing it’s the check from the sale of my ring. No idea how he was able to get more for it than he paid, but I don’t have time to think about it before my stomach makes a very loud, audible growl. I set the check back down, vowing to go to the bank tomorrow to open an account, and make my way to the cupboard. When I pull it open, my heart squeezes in my chest. The box of cereal has been moved to a lower shelf, obviously so I wouldn’t need help getting to it like I did earlier. The protein powder that was previously sitting on the bottom shelf has been moved up, since there’s a one-million percent chance I’ll never be reaching for that.
Fuck.
I was awful to him. And he didn’t deserve any of it. All Dalton wants to do is care for me and I push back every time he tries to.
But the truth of the matter is that I’m starting to crave it. From the moment he washed me in the shower, all I’ve been thinking about is how much I want to let him in. I know he’d be so good to me, treating me in a way that I’ve never experienced before…even from my very own parents. He’s already given me a taste of it in so many ways.
My biggest fear is that I’ll get used to it, and when he inevitably realizes how unlovable I am and leaves me, I won’t know how to go back to being alone. It’s taken me my whole life to get to a point where I feel like I don’t need anybody else. A Dalton Davis sized hole in my heart will surely leave me right back where I started.
But, for some reason, when I’m done eating and have cleaned up my mess, I find myself outside his bedroom door, the war inside me raging on as I quietly twist the knob and enter the dark space. Like a magnet, I’m pulled to the bed. Dalton lays on his side, facing the spot I previously slept in. It’s empty, save for his hand that’s stretched out, laying on the mattress. If I were there, it would be protectively wrapped around my waist.
That thought propels me forward, making me remove my clothes before carefully lifting his arm and sliding into the bed next to him. Before I even have a chance to settle in, Dalton’s arm loops around me, pulling my naked body into his. I exhale a contented breath, melting into him as his breathing evens back out behind me.
I know this is going to hurt in the end, but for some reason, I can’t stay away.
TWELVE
DALTON
“This all feels very sexual,”Dia says from behind me as I sit on the couch, watching the rerun of last night’s hockey game. My younger brother, Benton, just got called up to the Texas Thunder and although he didn’t see the ice last night, I still want to see what the team looks like. Currently, they’re warming up, with several players doing groin stretches on the ice.
I look over my shoulder to where she’s standing. I try not to react to the sight of her in only a pair of panties and one of my Blizzard t-shirts. “It’s notsexual,” I say with a scoff. “They’re just making sure they’re loose.” Just then, one of the guys drops down into a frog stretch and begins rocking back and forth. I’ve seen this a million times, since I grew up watching my brother. But now that I’m really looking at it…okay, itdoeslook sexual.
She rounds the couch, settling herself on the floor, much closer to the television than necessary. “Hockey players are so hot,” she says with a sigh. “The muscles. The fighting. Thestamina. I bet you they can go all night lon?—”
Before she can even finish her sentence, I’m up out of my seat hurdling the coffee table, and playfully tackling her to the ground. She laughs as I get her to her back, pinning her down with my thigh between her legs. She tries to buck me off, but I’m unmovable. “Is that so?” I ask. “That’s what you want? A man that will fuck that sweet pussy all night long?”
“Mhmmm…” she half hums, half moans as I shove my thigh up, wedging it against her core. I feel her hips flex, just slightly, as though she’s trying to create some friction against her clit. God, I fucking want her so badly, I can barely restrain myself. But after the other night in the kitchen, I vowed that I wouldn’t let my hormones lead me into making her think that’s all I’m looking for with her. I want Dia to know there’s more to this thing than just sex.
I’m not dumb enough to think we can navigate six weeks of marriage and living together without me needing to make sure she’s satisfied, but I can do that without fucking her. At least until she agrees to let me show her how good of a husband I can be.
