The Trade(74)
Realization of what I’m saying crashes over her face as I feel the edge of my control start to slip. I didn’t want to have this conversation with her. I wanted to be able to distance myself after the trip, bury myself in training, maybe only run into her occasionally where the pain wouldn’t be as much.
But she’s persistent.
Still holding my hand, she scoots even closer and reaches out to touch my cheek. Even though I tell myself not to, I melt into her touch, reveling in it one more time.
“You’re not a man you have a fling with. I learned that pretty quickly,” she says softly. “You’re the man you hold on to, cherish, thank whoever is listening that they’re a part of your life. You’re special, Cory.” Her thumb drags over my bottom lip. “And that scares me, because I wasn’t expecting to meet a man like you, a man who is relationship material.”
I nod and then slip her touch from my face. Looking at her hand, I say, “I like you, Natalie, I really do, but I also know when the timing isn’t right, and right now it’s not. You want what I can’t give you and you can’t give me what I want.”
“And what exactly do you want?”
I lift off the couch and say, “Doesn’t matter.” My heart ratchets in my chest as I feel every last inch of this painful conversation. What I wouldn’t give to take her back to my bedroom, spread her legs, and fuck her with my tongue again, taste her sweetness, and then spread it all over my dick, only to fuck her again. But with nothing between us, nothing holding me back. I want to get lost in her tight pussy, in her soft skin, in her infectious smile. I want to be able to wake up next to her, kiss down her neck until she’s awake, ready to take me all over again. I want to take her out on dates, take her to all the goddamn events I attend, then hold her hand when I’m tired and exhausted and ready for the season to be over. I want her comfort, her laugh, her entire body saved for me and only me.
Walking to the window that overlooks Lake Michigan, I pull on the strands of my hair, trying to figure out a kind way to ask her to leave—something not insulting but will get her to leave me alone to my own draining thoughts.
I wrack my brain for something, anything, just as Natalie’s warm hands presses against my bare back. I stiffen to her touch. When did she get up? Her other hand runs up my stomach, and I stifle a groan from the way her palm feels sliding up my abs to my chest until she gently turns me around to face her. Both hands on my chest now, she blinks up at me, her eyes so impossibly huge in this moment that I can’t look away, even if my heart is begging me to.
In the softest voice, with her fingers caressing my skin, she asks again, “What do you want, Cory?”
I try to look away, but she forces me back to her with the touch of her fingers to my cheek.
I roll my teeth over my bottom lip, feeling my will slip. I’m trying to shield her so she’s not exposed to my crazy, inconvenient feelings. But maybe the only way to get her to leave is to scare her into it. She’s not ready for what I want.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “I want you. All of you.”
“Okay.”
I shake my head. “You don’t get it, Natalie. I want it all. I want your lips, your attention, your body. I want it all for me. I want to be able to fuck you whenever I goddamn want.” Growing stronger in my words, I take her cheek in my hand and say, “We would date, exclusively. We would get to know each other on a deeper level.” Clearing my throat, I add, “You would be mine, no one else’s. What I want is simple. I want you to be my girlfriend, not a fling, not a one-night stand, not a guy you occasionally come to for sex, because even though my body is telling me it can give you that, my heart is not that strong.” I rub my thumb over her cheek. “I didn’t think I wanted a relationship, especially not during the season, not until after I retired, but then I met you and something inside me changed. Something inside me started to yearn for what my sister has, for what my friends and my parents have. Someone to be by my side during the toughest parts of my life.” Her eyes search mine and I feel like I’m saying way too fucking much but at this point, I can’t stop myself. “This past season was the hardest one of my career. The blow of being traded to a team who hates me really fucked my mental game. Going into this season, I need to be mentally there and starting a relationship is a bad idea, but also . . . if I did start one, I know with you . . . it would be easy.” Surprising myself, I repeat, “It would be so easy with you.”
I take a deep breath and step away, turning my back toward her.
“It’s not what you need right now. What you’re looking for, and I know that. That’s what I’ve tried to hide but last night, fuck, my will snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed one moment to feel you against me, to see what it would be like if I did give in and have you for a second. Fuck, it made me want so much more. So I bolted. It’s why I’m trying to keep my distance now.”
When I finish, I wait for her to say something, but when she doesn’t, I realize, maybe I did speak my mind too much. But it’s better she hears it now rather than later. This is what I want.
“I get where your head is at,” I say, continuing because the silence is killing me, but I keep my back turned toward her. I can’t sacrifice the pain in my chest to grow even more if I look her in the face. “You’re twenty-six, fresh from what you presumed would be a life-long relationship, and you want to explore what else is out there. I don’t blame you, but I also want to be honest. I meant what I said, I don’t want to be your rebound. That’s important to me.”