Page 112 of Playing for Keeps
“Really?” she whispers, her voice laced with disbelief.
“Really, baby.” I pause, hearing the doubt hiding behind her words. “I know you don’t fully believe me yet–”
“I do,” she interrupts. “You haven’t done anything to make me doubt you. It’s me. I feel like I’m the one messing this up.”
“No.” I shake my head. “You’re not messing this up. I know it’s hard to trust words alone, but I’m going to show you with everything I have that I mean every word. I’m not going anywhere. I promise you that.”
There’s a pause before she speaks again, her voice barely holding steady. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Wyatt. I just… I wish you were here.”
God, I wish I was there too.
After a few more minutes of talking, we reluctantly say goodnight. I stare at my phone long after the call ends, her voice still echoing in my ears. The cracks she tried to hide hit me harder than I expected, and the urge to go to her becomes impossible to ignore. She needs to know this is everything, not just in words, but in the way I show up for her.
I don’t even stop to think.
Grabbing a hoodie and my keys from the nightstand, I slip out of the nursery as quietly as I can, careful not to wake anyone. The house is silent, the lights off, and my heart pounds like I’m seventeen again, sneaking out past curfew.
I order an Uber and walk to the end of the street, needing the fresh air to keep my nerves in check. My thoughts are all her, curled up in my bed, wearing my jersey, the tremble in her voice when she said she didn’t feel like enough. Every smile, every glance, every second we’ve shared this past week replays in my head like a reel I never want to end.
When the car pulls up, I slide into the back, my knee bouncing the whole short drive to my parents' place. I have the driver stop at the end of the driveway, not willing to risk waking my mom, especially not the night before Nash’s wedding. If she catches me, there’s a chance I won’t make it through the front door.
I let myself in quietly, navigating the familiar space in the dark like I did as a kid. When I reach my bedroom door, I pause. There’s a faint sliver of light coming from inside, maybe from her phone screen. Hopefully, she’s still awake.
I push the door open, and her head turns at the sound. Her eyes widen for a split second before a smile spreads across her face.
“Wyatt,” she whispers, pushing herself upright against the pillows.
I don’t say anything. I just cross the room, kick off my shoes, and pull off my hoodie, dropping it to the floor. She lifts the comforter without hesitation, and I slide in beside her, pulling her into my arms like that’s exactly where she’s meant to be. She folds into me, her body pressing close like she’s been waiting for this all night.
“You came,” she breathes against my chest.
I press a kiss to her forehead. “You said you wished I was here,” I murmur. “I couldn’t stay away.”
She doesn’t answer, just tucks herself tighter against me, her breath finally steady, like she’s letting go of everything she’s been holding inside.
And as I lie there with her heart beating against mine, I know without a doubt I made the right choice. This is where I’m meant to be. Not just tonight. Always.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Ivy
Iwake up wrapped in Wyatt, our limbs tangled together, my head resting on his chest. There’s something about waking up like this that I can’t get enough of, and it’s fast becoming my favorite part of the day.
We didn’t say much after he showed up last night. We didn’t need to. Instead, he held me close until sleep pulled us under. But this morning, I want to talk. On the phone, he mentioned feeling lost before the auction, and I need to understand what that meant. He was there for me last night, calming all my fears, and I want him to know that I’m here for him too.
“Morning, baby,” Wyatt says, his voice thick with sleep.
I lift my head and smile.
“Morning.”
I press a soft kiss to his lips, and he rolls me onto my back, settling over me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Thank you for coming last night,” I say, my voice quiet as I gaze into his eyes.
He smiles down at me. “I’m always going to show up for you, Ivy. No matter what.”
“I’m sorry if I freaked out,” I say. “I didn’t mean to.”
