The Trade(129)

If he touches me, I’ll crack, so I say the only thing I can think to protect whatever shield I have left. “You broke me, Cory. More than Ansel did. I felt so worthless, like I was just a fling in your life rather than someone who actually mattered. You made me feel like I could be replaced in the blink of an eye.”

“You’re not, Natalie.” He pats his chest, right above his heart. “You’re so far deep in here, so far etched into my very being that you’re anything but replaceable. You’re goddamn indispensable.” He closes the space between us and cups my face, his thumb running over my cheek as tears fall in a rainfall of emotion. “I love you, Natalie. I need you. Please . . . fuck—” He chokes on a small sob and takes a deep breath. “Please tell me you still love me. Please tell me I still have a chance.”

Through blurry eyes, I stare up at him, and in that moment, I realize despite the anger that I’ve been harboring for the past seven months, it has nothing on the love for this man I’ve been trying to hide. He might have hurt me, but he also made me feel alive again for the first time in years. He brought back my smile, my laugh, my ability to enjoy life again. And maybe it’s time I drop the wall I’ve been trying to build, muster up my courage, and take the leap of love one more time.

Chest tight, my heart thumping against my ribs as nerves spread through my veins, I say, “I never stopped loving you, Cory.” I shake my head. “Never stopped.”

Before another tear can fall, Cory pulls me into his chest, lifts my chin, and presses his lips against mine. It’s a frantic kiss, scared and also desperate as we both cling to each other. His tongue rolls over mine, his teeth sink into my lip, his hands roam my back, and my hands go to the buttons of his shirt.

I start to undo them as he pulls my shirt up and over my head and unhooks my bra in a frenzy, before lifting me up and taking me straight to my bedroom. He lays me down, rolls my leggings off me along with my thong, and then disrobes himself as well until we’re both naked and rolling on top of my comforter.

He pauses for a second, bringing his hand to my face and staring at me in awe. He shakes his head as he presses a soft kiss to my forehead before saying, “I love you, Natalie. You’re it for me, the only thing I want in life and I’m so fucking sorry I ever made you feel less than you are, because you, my sweet, beautiful girl, are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I plan on spending the rest of my life proving that to you.” He kisses up my neck and then presses his forehead against mine. I cup his cheek, still loving the scruff on his jaw. “Please tell me you forgive me, that we can move past this.”

I reach up and press a gentle kiss to his lips as I spread my legs. I reach down and place him at my entrance, encouraging him to enter me. He does, in one long, smooth stroke. I choke on my breath for a second, forgetting just how big he is, but when I relax and remember how full I feel with him inside me, I know this is all I’ll ever need in life, this beautiful man.

Kissing him along his lips and then his jaw, I say, “I love you, Cory, and from here on out, we’re starting a new chapter in our life. You and me.” I grip his face so he has to look me in the eyes. “You and me.”

He nods, another tear falling down his face before he starts to move in and out of me, connecting us in the most intimate way. There’s a smooth stroke to his motions, a longing, tempting stroke that I haven’t felt from him before, as if he’s trying to imprint himself on me, as if with every pump of his hips, he’s saying, mine.

Mine. Mine.

And with every gasp that falls past my lips, I keep thinking, I’m his.

I’m his.





Epilogue





CORY





“I can’t wait to take you back to our room,” I whisper into Natalie’s ear as I hold the open back of her dress, where my hand hasn’t left since we’ve been on the dance floor. “This dress has made me hard all fucking night.”

Chuckling against my chest—because that’s how far she reaches even with heels—she says, “You know, for such an old man, you are quite virile.”

“Old?” I pull away to look down at her. “You know I’m anything but old, especially after the way I fucked you four times last night.”

Fact.

We had sex four times last night, and I still wanted her more. I haven’t been able to get enough of this woman since we got back together. After we made up, and I cried like a goddamn baby in her arms, so grateful that she gave me another chance, we came up with an action plan to get through the rest of the season so I could make time for her. It was something I was very concerned about the next morning when I considered our division win. We still had a long way to go.

We decided that she’d stay at my apartment during home games and when I was away, we’d FaceTime every night. I was consistent with my texting, ensuring she knew she was my number one even when I was doing my job, and she was so fucking supportive during the entire playoff and World Series run, that I don’t think we would have taken the trophy home if it wasn’t for her talking to me, relaxing me, letting me just hold her when I needed a break from the adrenaline pumping through me.

Yeah . . . we fucking won.

In the fourteen years I’ve been playing professional baseball, I can finally call myself a World Series Champion and fuck, does it feel good. It feels like a reward.