She screams out my name and tightens around me, spasming, her hips jerking as I come, the pull of her sizzling down my spine. Still thrusting, I ride out the wave, milking every tingle of pleasure that swallows me whole as she rocks against me. Sex with her feels different from anyone else, emotion in my chest clinging tight.

Shaking, I land on top of her, breathing hard, feeling uncertain and scared. I slip out, kiss her around her tattoo, and grab a towel and clean her up as she lies limp on the bed. Crooning to her softly, I scoot her to the head of the bed and hold her against my chest. My hands play with her hair as I try to get my own lungs back to normal. “You okay?”

She nods and looks at me, searching my face. She opens her mouth—then shuts it and licks her lips.

Yeah. That.

I kiss her, soft and slow, heart hammering, as I try to stay chill, when my head is a wreck. She’s so trusting, open, giving. “That was . . .” Best I ever had. “Intense.”

She lays her head on my chest, and we rest, my fingers idly tracing her shoulders. My head races, tumbling around with thoughts of how this relationship is supposed to work. She isn’t like anyone else. She’s not a girl I can let go. She’s shoved me over that cliff, and I’m lying at the bottom on the rocks, waiting for her to finish me off.

Just . . .

Please.

Stay.

The days fly by as the team prepares for our preseason game in Miami. Giselle and I stay up late at night talking or watching TV or playing video games. She begs for Shark Week, and I relent on Thursday and get grossed out while she giggles. I called her a bloodthirsty scientist, and she said I was a wittle scaredy-cat jock.

On Friday, she pulled out The Complete Illustrated Kama Sutra and showed me the Lotus position, where the man sits down with his legs crossed, and the woman straddles him, wrapping her legs around his waist . . . and she asked, Could you do it?

“Starting to think you just want me for my flexible body and stamina,” I teased her. She laughed and kissed me, and I forgot about everything else.

At night, we crawl in bed and talk with the stars over us. Not even tired, we get up early and eat together; then she walks me out in workout clothes. She’s getting back to her running before the semester starts.

She spends the rest of the day writing, and when I come home, tired and worn out from camp, I take one look at her, and exhilaration rushes over me. I’m barely paying attention to camp. I’m on a high. There’s a nagging voice in the back of my head that screams that I’m rushing, that I’m going to fuck it up, that she’s going to disappear, but I shove it down.

The team flies to Miami on Friday for a Saturday preseason game, and we win, 28–7, a tight game with our offense running the show. Jack is resting his arm, and Aiden gets a day in the spotlight, trash-talking Jack the entire flight home. When we land in Nashville late that night, Giselle’s in the parking lot next to the Maserati. She and Elena stand chatting as Jack and I hoist our duffel bags to our shoulders and head their way.

“Giselle seems happy,” he says, shooting me a glance. “And you. How are things?”

“Good.”

“Look, we’ve been friends a long time . . .” His voice trails off, a torn expression on his face as he grabs my arm.

“What?”

He studies me. “I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”

“But?”

“But she’s staying with you. It’s going to make ending things hard, don’t you think?”

“Who said I was planning on ending it?”

“Come on. It’s you.”

I’m really fucking sick of this.

“We aren’t temporary,” I snap.

We stop under a parking lot light, and he takes in my tight face and tense shoulders. “All right, all right. Maybe I’m wrong. I hope I am.”

Before I can respond, Giselle runs up to me, and I drop my duffel and wrap her in a hug when she jumps at me. I twirl her around, my hands on her sweet ass. “Baby, fuck, I missed you. Barely slept.” She’s wearing low-rise jeans and one of my shirts. “You look good.”

“I watched you on TV. Two touchdowns,” she calls in glee, eyes shining.

We’re in our own world, but I feel the heat of Jack’s and Elena’s gazes, sense the puzzlement radiating from them as they watch us from his Escalade. Who cares if they don’t get us together? I do. She does.

“I finished my book,” she whispers in my ear, and I laugh and give her another spin. “And I saw Cindy in the basement when I went to check on the hood of the car. Quinn had it fixed in a day. Cindy wants to know if you’re available to babysit sometime. I told her you’d love to.”

“Did you miss me?”

“Terribly. I invited Myrtle and John over, and we ordered sushi and watched a French film after the game.”

“Hopefully not the one with the ‘nice’ cinematography?”

She grins. “No.” Then her face grows serious. “I couldn’t sleep without you.”

She’s still in my arms, her legs wrapped around my waist, and I don’t want to let her go. “Come with me next time. I’ll buy you a first-class ticket, and you can sit in the stands, and I’ll blow you a kiss.”

She nods rather distractedly. “Okay. I have some news.”

“Oh?” I let her down as Jack and Elena finish stowing Jack’s duffel, then walk over to us.

“You remember Robert, the guy who gave me his card at the diner?”

“Yeah. John’s son. He wanted to have lunch. Did you meet him?” I frown.

She waves me off. “No, I told him I was dating you, but it turns out he wanted to talk about my book. He’s a literary agent. Myrtle had given him a copy.”

I arch a brow. “So he wasn’t interested in you?”

She blushes. “Maybe a little, but he also wanted to talk business.” Her eyes light up. “He’s going to shop it around to a few publishers and see if they want my book. Can you believe it?”

Elena walks up, pride in her voice. “I told her I have contacts in publishing, but she wants to do this on her own.”

“Good news,” Jack says.

I take her in—the way she looks, the softness in her face, the happiness that radiates. “Going places, baby. You deserve it all.”

“She does,” Jack murmurs, his gaze on me.

Chapter 25

GISELLE

“Dear Heavenly Father, we come to you this Sunday with a meal before us, prepared by hands that work for you. Please bless this food, and use it to nourish our bodies. Thank you for bringing my family here. Encourage their hearts to visit more. A mother’s love never ends; she knows the words her children cannot say, and she supports them through good and bad, even when she knows they might fail along the way. Mothers are the pillars of generations to come, which brings me to my daughter Elena and her husband, Jack. Please make her fertile and give them babies to populate the earth. Lord, I need grandchildren in my life to fill the empty places.”

Elena and I both look up at the same time from across the table, and I make a pregnant motion over my belly. She rolls her eyes while Topher smothers a laugh with a cough. Aunt Clara snags a roll, takes a bite, sees us looking, then mimes rocking a baby.