Love. Huh. That was something I never thought I’d have again.
“You’d have to come down as soon as possible,” Coach presses, not seeing the battle going on in my head. “We need to see how you’re doing, get you back into the playbook, shake off any rust.”
I nod, but my thoughts are so far from this field I need a passport to catch up to them. This should’ve been an easy decision. I’d spent months dreaming about this moment, clawing my way back from injury, determined to prove everyone wrong. But now, when it’s all within reach, the pull isn’t as strong as it used to be.
Because back home, there is something—someone—I’m not ready to walk away from. The thought of leaving Bex, putting miles between us just when we are starting to find something real, makes my chest tighten. Which, considering it’s been one kiss, sounds crazy but it’s not. I’ve waited since I met her for her to be back in front of me. I added her to the list of people I started to push away when I thought I wasn’t good enough anymore. Then, she gets delivered to my doorstep—well, next door, but close enough.
No matter what, it’s something. It’s fate.
“Think about it, Austin,” Coach bellows, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “But don’t take too long. We need to know where you stand.”
Where do I stand? Right now, it feels like I’m stuck between two lives—one filled with the roar of the crowd and the thrill of the game, and the other with the quiet promise of something deeper, more lasting.
I’m just not sure which one I want more.
I’d gotten out of the meeting with enough time to get to the airport and run to my plane. It was good timing, really, because once I landed in Charlotte I had a few texts come in from Bex. She’d arranged for Mrs. Rosenblatt to get her new carpet today but, as the Gods of carpet-laying would have it, almost everything had gone wrong.
I scroll through texts updating me of the workmen’s arrival with the wrong carpet, to their arrival with the right carpet, only to unroll it and find out they don’t have enough. Then, apparently, there was a flat tire. It’s all too much.
I don’t bother getting in touch. Glancing at my watch, I realize if I step on the gas, I’m close enough I know I can get to the building and go see Mrs. Rosenblatt myself and smooth things over.
It’s almost five o’clock when I park my truck on the street outside of Mrs. Rosenblatt’s. When I knock on the door, I’m as surprised to find Bex there on the other side as she is to see me.
“Hey,” she says with a smile slowly creeping across her features. “Did you come straight here after you landed?”
I hold up my phone. “Seeing all these texts, you bet I did.” I squeeze her arm and slide past, walking toward Mrs. Rosenblatt. She had been one of our first tenants and one that needed a little more hand-holding than the others, but she’s always been nice to both me and to Levi.
“Austin, you didn’t need to come,” Mrs. Rosenblatt coos when she sees me. “Bex here has done her best today.”
My eyes flick to Bex, who takes a small bow. “She’s great. I bet she already has a new date on the books this week for your real carpet to be installed?”
“That’s what we were just finalizing,” Bex speaks up. She pulls out her phone, tapping a few buttons. “I included you on the calendar invite for this week. The guys will be back the day after tomorrow to install.”
“They promised if they have any other issues, you get it free,” Mrs. Rosenblatt says, wiggling her eyebrows.
“You like a bargain, don’t you?” I tease.
“Oh, you know it.” She holds up crossed fingers. “Here’s hoping they forget something else. I’ll get you a deal yet.”
Cracking up, I turn and look at Bex, who is already putting her coat on. “We’ll get out of your hair, Mrs. Rosenblatt.”
“It was nice to see you, Austin,” she says as she follows us to the door. “Thank you for having Bex here to help me today. She’s been a delight.”
My eyes lock with Bex’s and, as if it has a magnet embedded inside it, my pinky slowly reaches out and takes hers, our fingers intertwined and linked in the most subtle of ways. Right here in the open, yet we’re the only ones who know it’s happening.
“Yes,” I say without taking my eyes off Bex. “She is a surprise to me, too.”
Bex blushes as Mrs. Rosenblatt pats my butt, making me jump in surprise. “Well, go on. You two get some rest, and you,” she says, wagging a finger in Bex’s direction, “I’ll see you soon, yes?”
“You got it,” Bex acknowledges with a giggle as the door closes behind us.
Leaving us, toe to toe, facing one another alone. Under the weight of her stare, my body begins to twitch on its own. Her hand rests on my forearm, and my skin, while protected from her touch between layers of clothing, still feels electrified, as if her touch was a torch and she was setting me on fire.
I drag my eyes to hers, a sensation deep inside of me beginning to fill my belly. Excitement. Anticipation. Want.
“How was your trip—” she begins to ask, but I go blank. I thread one of my arms around her, tucking my arm in the warmth that lies between her jacket and her sweater, clutching the fabric as I bring my mouth down, slanting it across hers. She tastes like hot chocolate and blueberry muffins, both signature recipes coming from Mrs. Rosenblatt.
The kiss starts slow, almost hesitant, as if we’re both testing the waters. But then I deepen it, pulling her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. Her lips are soft and sweet, and she melts into me, her hands gripping my jacket as if she’s afraid to let go. My thumb grazes her cheek, tracing the curve of her jaw as I tilt her head slightly, allowing me to explore her mouth fully.
