Page 19

CHAPTER 19

EMILY

I jolt awake, ripped from a deep, blissful slumber, gasping when I realize I’m not at home in my bed. It takes a few seconds for me to collect my wits, looking around at the somewhat familiar room, the exposed bricks, the collection of cowboy hats hanging on the far wall, the big arched windows that, today, look out at nothing but a sea of gray, a hint of the Manhattan skyline barely making its presence seen through the blanket of heavy rain and low-hanging clouds.

Blindly, I drag an arm over the bed beside me, feeling it empty, the sheets cool to the touch, and I sit up, confused to find that I’m alone, wearing a different jersey than the one I’d worn last night, Dallas’s number still on it, only this one is alternate colors. I’m completely naked below the waist—no pants, not even underwear, nothing—and it causes memories from last night to crash over me like an unforgiving wave.

After having another orgasm ripped out of me, I was a depleted mess lying on the floor. I couldn’t even move; my limbs were like jelly. Dallas made me… squirt. Oh, my God. I didn’t even know that was possible. I thought it was something only porn stars were capable of. And even then, I had my doubts as to whether or not it was real. But it is. It’s so real. And I did it. And it wasn’t weird or gross like I’d imagined it to be in my mind. It was literally everything and more. Like a surge of pressure building low in your stomach, like the tension you feel when you’re climbing to the very peak of a rollercoaster. You know the drop is coming, but as much as you think you’re ready for it, you’re not. The release, and then the sudden burst of euphoria that crashes through your entire body. It. Was. Everything. And, like an addict hooked on a new drug, I kind of want to do it again.

Holy shit. Who the hell even am I right now? I bury my face in my hands, giggling like a goddamn school girl.

Dallas ended up collecting me off the floor and carrying me through to his bedroom, and I clung to him like a fucking koala because I knew if I let go, I’d not only fall, but I’d fall apart. It had been a lot. Not only the multiple orgasms, but everything else that led up to it. I told him the truth. And because of that, I was holding on to nothing but a thread, and it was bound to break. And it did break. I broke. In the shower. But thankfully, Dallas was there to keep me together as I sobbed in his arms.

Yes, I showered with Dallas. I knew I needed to clean up. I was a mess, covered in my own cum. And so was he. He came in his pants, for God’s sake. Which, by the way, is a kink I didn’t know I had.

I knew I couldn’t shower alone because my legs were boneless. But I couldn’t risk Dallas seeing me. Even after everything we’d done, I just wasn’t ready for that. When I asked him if he’d shower with me with the lights out, I felt certifiable, but he didn’t hesitate. He got everything ready, turned the water on and got the bathroom all nice and steamy. Then he flicked the lights off and guided me in, helping me remove his jersey and holding me steady. It wasn’t completely dark as the frosted window let in the lights of the city outside, but it was dark enough, and Dallas was a complete gentleman, keeping his eyes up when he looked at me, not even attempting to sneak a glance downwards. He held me close to him under the steady spray of warm water. He massaged his body wash into my skin, penetrating the stubborn knots in my muscles with strong, resolute strokes of his expert fingers.

When I felt his hard length stir between us, I grazed it with my hand. I wanted to return the favor, get on my knees and give him exactly what he needed, what he deserved. But he stopped me, enveloping my hand and entwining his fingers with mine.

I looked up at him with a furrowed brow and said, “But I want to.”

He offered me a soft smile and slowly shook his head. “No, baby. Tonight wasn’t for me. It was all for you… I just wanna hold you.”

And I know I might be losing my goddamn mind, but I think a big part of me fell for Dallas Shaw in that moment.

I’m unexpectedly torn from my thoughts by the opening chords of Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5” blaring in through the bedroom door that’s been left slightly ajar, the music loud and overwhelming.

Throwing the duvet off, I make my way to my feet that are thankfully covered in a pair of Dallas’s socks so as not to freeze my toes on the hardwood floor as I pad carefully out into the apartment in search of what, I don’t even know.

When I catch sight of Dallas in the kitchen, hair standing up in every direction, shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweats that hang dangerously low on his hips, I slap a hand over my mouth, watching him.

He’s oblivious to me, dancing to the music, spatula in hand, mouthing the words of the song into his makeshift microphone, and it’s only then that I see he has Beats in his ears, clearly not registering that the music has connected to the speakers, not his buds.

I move slowly, careful for him not to see me as I enter the kitchen. From what I can see, he’s making eggs, and my tummy growls, but I remain silent, pulling myself to sit up on the island bench, watching him and trying not to laugh as he shakes his glorious ass to the song.

When he does a little shuffle twirl, he stops suddenly, a hilarious shriek that sounds nothing like him and everything like an old woman coming from his mouth as he clutches a hand over his chest.

I throw my head back on a laugh.

“Holy fuck, Goldie,” he shouts. “You scared the shit outta me.”

I tap my ears, indicating for him to take his Beats out, and when he does, realization falls over him when he hears the music playing through the apartment.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?” He looks genuinely panicked, glaring at the buds in his hand. “I can never figure these dang things out,” he mutters, tossing them onto the counter.

“You didn’t wake me,” I assure him with a laugh.

His eyes rake slowly over me as he stalks closer, gently pushing my knees apart and settling between my thighs. My skin erupts in goosebumps when he latches onto the sensitive spot at the base of my neck, licking the trigger point before murmuring, “You hungry?”

I moan, tipping my head to the side, granting him better access. “Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting breakfast and a show.”

“Smart ass.” He chuckles, licking and sucking the spot that makes my back arch, but before we can get too carried away, the oven dings, and he groans, pulling himself off me.

I watch as he moves effortlessly around the kitchen, still swaying his hips to Dolly as he takes a sheet of crispy bacon out of the oven, plates the eggs, opens the fridge, and pulls out a carton of organic juice and a container of berries.

I jump down from the island, moving to help him, but he swats my hand away when I go to pour the juice.

“Go sit,” he orders, pointing toward the long table in the corner. “Let me feed my girl. ”

I flush from his words. My girl . Two words that do something to me I was not expecting. But before I can make a fool out of myself and openly swoon, I do as I’m told, turning away and walking to the table, squealing when I feel a light whack against my butt. I glare at him over my shoulder, but he pretends it wasn’t him or the spatula-slash-microphone in his hand, smiling innocently to himself as he finishes dishing out the food. Rolling my eyes, I move to a seat at the table, waiting.

“Bon appétit,” Dallas says with a terrible accent, placing a plate in front of me and kissing the top of my head in a move that is so subtle yet makes my insides swoon.

“Look at these curls,” he chuckles, gently ruffling his hand through my hair.

I cringe, totally forgetting that I went to bed with damp hair. I smooth a hand over my head, feeling just how wild my curls are and, with a sheepish smile, I look at him, tugging on one of the springy kinks.

“It’s from the chemo,” I say. “Before, I had totally straight hair. Now? It’s like clown hair.”

Dallas laughs, but then he leans down again, pressing another kiss to the top of my head, lips lingering as he murmurs lowly, “You’re perfect, Goldie… don’t you ever fucking doubt that.”

Surprised by his words, I meet his eyes, seeing a flash of seriousness in his gaze before he winks at me and turns back to the kitchen. And wow. Again with the swoon. Calm down, Emily.

Thankfully, my hunger and the ravenous beast in my stomach shifts the focus to the plate of deliciousness in front of me, and as Dallas takes his seat right next to mine, I grin at him as I start to eat.

With my mouth full of the best scrambled eggs I’ve ever tasted, the music playing through the apartment is suddenly interrupted by Siri’s robotic voice as she announces, “ Andy Hoffman calling .”

I swear, it’s like a bucket of icy water being poured over me .

Dropping my fork onto my plate with a loud clang, I choke on my food, spluttering and coughing, egg spraying unattractively out of my mouth before I can reach for my napkin. I cough into the cloth, my eyes gaping at Dallas as he hops up from his seat and leisurely strolls across the room to collect his phone from where it’s sitting on the island counter. He looks at me with an arched brow, waiting for me to stop dying so loudly, and I clear my throat with a swig of juice before giving him a thumbs up.

“Hey, what’s up?” he answers calmly.

My heart races, slams against my chest.

“Yeah…” Dallas nods. “Uh huh…”

Panic bubbles in my belly. I’m suddenly no longer hungry.

“Okay…” Dallas says slowly. “Oh, you are?”

Oh, my God. What if he’s here? What if Andy is here and he’s coming up right now?

“No, it’s fine.” Dallas is so calm, casual. So unaffected.

I jump up, looking around for what, I don’t even know.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” Dallas says. “Okay, bye.”

I watch on as he ends the call, placing the phone back down onto the island and casually returning to the table, looking at me in confusion. “What are you doing?”

Incredulously, I gape at him. “Um… that was Andy,” I say, as if he wasn’t the one just talking to him. “The one person who can’t know that I’m here… wearing your jersey and no panties.”

At that, Dallas’s eyes light up, his fingers reaching for the hem of his jersey. “Let me see.”

I slap his hand away, taking a step back. “What did he want?”

Dallas looks at me like I’ve gone crazy when, in fact, this is a completely natural reaction, and why the hell is he so goddamn blasé?

“Is he coming here?” I press, frantically looking at the door like, at any moment, Andy’s going to burst through it just to scream at me that I’m fired .

Dallas’s hands gently wrap around my arms, and he steadies me with a penetrating gaze that immediately quiets the noise in my head. “Goldie, breathe.”

I take a deep breath, puffing the air from my cheeks.

“He called to tell me that he’s arranged a meeting tomorrow morning to discuss a potential endorsement.” His eyes flit between mine. “He’s my agent. That’s literally his job.”

My shoulders fall. Because he’s right. I shake my head, looking around. “I shouldn’t be here,” I whisper under my breath.

“Wait… what?” Dallas guffaws. “Baby, what are you talking about?”

I push my chaotic hair back from my face, suddenly full of self-doubt and panic. “You just said it yourself. Andy is your agent.” I throw my hands up. “I-I shouldn’t be here.”

I turn, hurrying back through to the bedroom in search of my things. I need to get the hell out of here. This isn’t right.

“Goldie, wait!” Dallas is hot on my heels, grabbing my wrist.

I spin around, meeting his big green eyes that are wide and fraught with panic. Very un-Dallas-like as he whispers, “Don’t do this.”

“I’m not doing anything, Dallas.” I dismiss him with a wave of my hand. “Last night was fun. It was… really fun. But you and I both know it was just—” I stop myself, searching for the words I need while also scanning the floor for my missing panties.

“It was just what ?”

I look up, surprised by the steeliness in his voice, his face stark, jaw clenching tight as he waits.

I cock my head to the side. “Dallas, it was fun, but it was just… one night.”

“I think I recall you saying that about our first night together.” He scoffs, a disbelieving look in his eyes. “You really think what happened between us last night was just another one-time thing?”

“No, I don’t.” I shake my head. “But I think it has to be. ”

“No, it doesn’t!” he exclaims, exasperatedly, like I’m the delusional one.

“It’s so easy for you to say that!” I yell, shocked by my own volume.

Dallas exhales hard, placing his hands on his hips and giving me the floor even though I can tell he wants to interject.

“You’re a professional athlete. Andy needs you. You’re his money maker. But Andy is my boss. I need him. He can find another assistant like that—” I snap my fingers. “This is my first job in over three years. Three years ! Do you know how hard it is to get back into the workforce after such a long leave of absence?” I narrow my eyes, studying his face that is, as expected, completely clueless because of course he has no idea. There is no reason he should. He doesn’t need to worry about this sort of stuff.

“Before I got sick, I had the best job. I loved my job. I was head of operations at a digital marketing company, and I was being considered for a promotion to COO. It was small, with less than a hundred employees, but it was amazing. I’d been there for almost seven years, since they opened the doors, and I worked my ass off, starting from the literal bottom. But then I got cancer. I had to quit my job. And I was out of work for three years. Not only was I sick, but I was broke, living in my parents’ basement. I was so depressed. I felt worthless.” I suck in a trembling breath, emotion getting the better of me at the memory.

Before I can start crying, I continue, “Now, I’ve got this chance at HMC, the best sports management company in the country . And maybe, if I can prove to Andy that I’m good at what I do, that I know my shit, that I can make a difference, then maybe I can work my way back up. But to do that, I need to show that I can follow the rules.” I offer him a pointed look. “Andy’s rules .”

I sigh heavily, murmuring, “I know I’ll never be the person I was before I got sick, but that doesn’t mean I have to be less. ”

Dallas stares at me, an unreadable look in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.

And as hard as it is, I step around him and continue into the bathroom to get changed back into my dress, disappointment sitting like lead in my stomach. But this is the way it has to be.

“Here.”

I startle, turning around to see Dallas right there, a scrap of satin in his hand. I take it from him, my cheeks flushing when I see that it’s my thong.

“I washed it and put it in the drier earlier,” he says with a shrug. “I hope I didn’t ruin it.”

Something clenches around my heart, squeezing the life out of it.

“Thank you,” I manage through the thickness in my throat.

He nods once and starts to walk back out. But he stops in the doorway and turns, reaching up and grabbing the top of the doorframe, holding onto it as he stands there and watches me with a contemplative look in his eyes.

I swallow hard around the lump that clogs my throat. Between his unwavering gaze and the things he’s doing to my insides simply by existing, standing there in nothing but a pair of low-hanging sweats, his beautiful body taunting me, I shift my weight from foot to foot, willing myself to stay put despite the way I want to run to him right now and hold on to him for dear life.

“Goldie,” he begins, his voice low and gravelly. “You are fucking delusional if you think I’m just gonna let you walk out of here and watch you go.” The hint of a smirk curls the corner of his lips. “You got away once. I ain’t lettin’ you go again.”

I grip the edge of the bathroom counter behind me in the hope that it stops me from caving.

“I’ll give you whatever time you need, baby.” He shrugs a broad shoulder. “But just know this—” He lowers his voice, his smirk blowing out into a full-watt grin, dimples and all. “It’s only a matter of time before you come to your senses and realize that nothing else matters because I’m the one for you.”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek. Hard. To the point where I’m sure I can taste the metallic tang of blood. But right now, I would chomp my tongue right off to stop myself from saying something I know I will live to regret.

“And when you do,” Dallas continues, his grin turning smug. “I’ll still be here.”

Letting go of the doorframe, he stalks slowly back into the bathroom, closing the distance in three long, determined strides until he’s right there, resting his hands against the counter on either side of me, effectively caging me and looming over me, his presence all consuming.

“Like I told you,” he whispers so closely to me, his breath fanning over my skin, eliciting goosebumps to flare all over. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, Goldie…”

Closing my eyes, I feel his lips ghost against my skin with a whisper soft kiss before he pulls away. I look up in time to see him walk out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him, and I release the breath I’ve been holding.

Turning, I meet my reflection in the mirror, and I can’t help but glower at the woman staring back at me, muttering, “You fucking idiot…”