Page 72 of Tempting the Goalie
“Maybe it’s not a good thing that you know me so well,” I state.
“It’s a very good thing. You won’t be able to bottle any of your feelings up. It’s good to talk it out. Now what’s bothering you, Isabelle?”
“When you say my name like that it sounds so sexual,” I tell him.
“And . . .”
“And nothing, I’m horny,” I admit.
“You always are.” He laughs. “But there’s more going on,” he insists.
I groan. “I’m worried about how things will be when we are back at school. We won’t have time to just be us.”
He gives me a pleased smile. “You don’t need to worry. I’m going to make time to be with you, and you’ll have to do the same.” He presses his lips together like he wants to say more, but he’s stopping himself.
“Okay, I can commit to that,” I say.
“But there’s something else that’s bothering you. I can feel it,” he presses.
I blow out a breath. “The conversation is definitely premature.”
“But it’s still bothering you, so spit it out,” he insists.
“Kids. I want them and you don’t,” I murmur. Not my finest moment with communication skills.
He frowns. “I know us being together means that you’ll want kids, eventually, but I can’t promise you I’ll want kids. I love Braden with all my heart, but the world can be cruel.”
“I know,” I agree, “but it can be beautiful and kind too.”
“Of course you would say that.” He smirks.
“It’s what I believe.”
“I know.” He takes me in his arms and spoons me. “I don’t ever want to live without you, but I know this is a sticking point for you.”
“We’re young and I’m not worried about it right now but I know myself, and one day I’ll want to have babies,” I say, even though the admission is hard knowing how hesitant he is.
He sighs. “You gave me time to come to the realization that I’m all in with you. Can you give me more time to figure this out?”
I want to say yes because he deserves the time, but the more time we spend together the deeper in love I fall.
“You’re scared I’ll never come around,” he says like he can read my thoughts by the expression on my face.
“The more time we spend together, the deeper I fall,” I confess.
He buries his face in my neck and whispers, “Me too.” I don’t feel myself fall asleep, but we drift off in each other’s arms. I wake with a startle around 2:00 am.
“Luc, get up.” I nudge him, and he groans. “Luc, you need to go.”
He shifts and rubs his eyes. “Sorry.” He stands.
I stand too. He stretches and yawns. “Hush.”
He winces and walks to the window and opens it.
“Love you, Mon coeur, have a good night,” he says.
“Love you too.”
