Page 71 of I Got You

I want all of this, but I can’t have it. I want Maggie, but I won’t be selfish, not with her. Having her means, I’ll eventually hurt her. How long would it take her to see I have nothing to offer? How long until she sees that I’m empty inside? Maybe she already does.

I rub a hand over my face and sit up, pulling my phone from the nightstand. I have three missed calls from Greg. He’s continued to call, and I know what he wants. I’m not paying. I also have a missed call from Maggie, and my empty stomach stirs with worry. I hit call back.

“Hello,” she whispers.

“Hey. I’m sorry. I just saw you called. Everything ok?”

“No.” I hear her pull the phone away to cough. “Grizz, I need you to get your big booty back here. I want you to lay your overly heated body near mine and read to me. I’m so cold,” she whines. “Liv’s sick too, but she’s not a hot box like you are.” She coughs again, and I feel awful I’m not there, but I can’t help my smile that I’m so glad she can’t see.

“Maggie, I’m sorry. I wish I could be there.”

She sniffs. If she’s crying, I won’t be able to stand it. “Do you really? I’d probably just cough all over you, and I’m sure I smell.”

“Yes.” Never in my life have I wanted to care for someone else, and I don’t know how to do it, but I don’t want to be here. I want to be there.

“Well, that makes me feel a little better.” She pauses. I’m ok, just listening to her breathe, and I know I have a big problem on my hands that I need to get a handle on fast. “Good luck today. I’ll be watching.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Ok.”

“Try to sleep.”

She laughs. “Yeah, right. Liv keeps kicking me.”

We say goodbye, and I’m ready to be on the plane back home, but I have a game to focus on and guys counting on me to help them get closer to the championship.

I climb out of bed and shower, allowing myself to think about Maggie for a few more minutes before I pull myself together and focus on the game. I need to go home with my head in check, things back in place, and any growing desires squashed and forgotten. Maggie is becoming way too important, and beware of danger signs are popping up everywhere. The problem is, with Maggie, I kind of want to ignore them.

∞∞∞

The wheels hit the tarmac, and I power on my phone to make sure I don’t have any missed calls from Maggie. Instead, I have another one from Greg, who left a voicemail.

I grab my bag and quickly make my way to my truck, listening to the voicemail from my dear old dad on my way home. It’s exactly what I expected, but his mention of contacting Maggie if he doesn’t get what he wants sets me on fire. He won’t be contacting Maggie about anything, ever. I’ll make sure of that.

I pull into the garage and enter a dark house, except for the flicker of the TV coming from the living room. Maggie is curled up on the couch with Liv, and the boys are spread out on the floor with blankets piled on top of them.

I crouch down in front of Maggie and just look at her. She has the blanket pulled up to her chin, her mouth is open, and her hair is falling out of her short ponytail. Somehow, I still find her to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. This little firefly is becoming very hard to resist.

After the win today, I relaxed on the flight back, reminding myself of all the reasons why letting myself want Maggie is impossible. There’s really only one. I don’t have what she needs or deserves. Looking at her, I know I’m going to have to tattoo that reminder on my brain.

I push a loose strand of hair out of her face, and she moves and stretches before opening her eyes.

“Hey. You’re home. Good game today.”

“Yeah. Do you want me to carry the boys to bed?”

She sniffs, and her nose is full of snot. “No. They’re sick, too. We’re all camping out here tonight, so I can give them more medicine when they need it, and I know they're ok. I have alarms set for each of them.”

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

“No.” She sits up a little to look around at all the kids. “I think we’re set for now. I’m glad you’re home.”

Me too. I stand. “I’ll be back.” I head to our room, use the restroom, and change into joggers and a T-shirt before returning to the living room. “Move over.”

“Shane, you should just go to bed and rest. You’re still getting over this.”

“Move over.”

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