Page 50 of The False Start (Off the Bench)

Chapter Thirty-Five

LILA

I ’m giving the sauce a final taste when there’s a loud knock at my door. I give the pot one last stir before opening the door to find Cal, dressed in grey joggers and an Avalanche hoodie. In one hand he’s holding a huge bouquet of red, pink, and white roses, and in the other a bottle of wine.

My heart stutters as I take him in, his hair slightly messy from where it likely dried on the flight here, one corner of his mouth pulled up into something that fits somewhere between a smirk and a true smile.

“Hey,” I say, slightly breathless.

“Hello, love.” He bends to brush his lips to my cheek.

I open the door wider, inviting him in, and he sets the bottle of wine on the kitchen island.

“Do you have a vase?”

I snort, remembering the six vases I came home with after sorting through the ones good enough to gift as Christmas presents.

He quirks an eyebrow, and I shake my head, pulling out a large white and pink vase from the cabinet.

“Did you make this?”

“Yep, it didn’t make the cut for Christmas gifts this year, so it lives with me until I find a place to donate it.” I turn back to the stove and start plating up our dinner.

“Seriously? It’s amazing.”

I shrug. “How hungry are you?”

“I skipped dinner on the plane.”

“Alright,” I answer, a lilting rise in my voice as I try not to laugh, doubling his portion and setting it in front of what’s become his place at my kitchen island over the last several weeks.

He sets down the vase on the center of the island, now full of the roses he brought.

“I thought these would brighten up your condo.” He smiles, and I realize that, while they look lovely, nothing brightens up the space quite like he does when he smiles like that. No barriers, just raw joy emanating from him, and I can’t help but grin back.

“Thanks. They’re lovely.”

He presses a kiss to my temple, his hand brushing my hip as he steps around me to take his seat.

“This looks amazing. Seriously, so much better than whatever the rest of the team ate.”

I laugh. “Thanks. Wine?” I pull out a corkscrew and start on the bottle he brought. He nods, scooping up a forkful of the chicken Alfredo.

He groans as I’m pouring the wine, nearly making me spill the blood red liquid all over my quartz countertop. “Lila, this is incredible.”

“It’s just Alfredo sauce. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.” I place both wine glasses down and sit to take a bite of my own pasta. He’s right, it’s damn good.

“I’m so glad I skipped dinner for this.” He’s nearly finished with his plate, and I’d be concerned if he hadn’t just played three hours of football.

“I can make it whenever you want. Though, you might want to try some of the other recipes before you pick a favorite. According to legend, her chicken piccata got her an extra carat on her ring.” He laughs, and I can’t help but join in.

I’m halfway through my own plate when he speaks again.

“So, you said you wanted to talk.”

I push my plate away, my appetite suddenly nonexistent as my stomach twists itself into knots. “Yeah, I did.”

I take a deep breath and pull out my phone, clicking through my email to find what I’m looking for. “Here, I want to show you the official offer letter.”

He looks down at the phone and reads the words I’ve memorized over the last few days.

Ms. Summers,

Please see the offer attached. As mentioned, we can discuss details at your earliest convenience once you’ve had time to review the entire package.

I look forward to your call.

Sincerely,

William Basset

CEO of Basset Holdings

“Open the offer.” He clicks on the attachment in the email, and silence follows.

“This is . . .”

“I know.”

“Do you even want the job?”

“It’s a good offer. If it wasn’t your father offering it, I would’ve accepted already.

” I laugh at the irony. “A fifty percent pay bump is enticing on its own, but he’s offering partner.

I didn’t get the promotion, by the way. They offered it to someone else—some guy based out of Seattle, if you can believe it.

I found out yesterday after you left. So, it might be a sign it’s time to move on anyway. ”

He frowns. “If we weren’t together, would you take it?”

“Like if we broke up? Or if I’d never met you?”

He frowns. “For the sake of argument, both.”

“If we broke up, I don’t think so. I’d want a clean break, I think, and working for your dad wouldn’t be clean.” I gnaw on my bottom lip, his eyes tracking the movement. “If we’d never met? Yes, I would.”

“So, what’s stopping you now?”

“Aside from knowing how he treats people generally?” My laugh is harsh.

“He’s still your dad. You have a lot to work through, the two of you, if you want to have any type of relationship.

Not to mention what if we do break up? I’ll have to quit.

I don’t know if I can have my career tied up in a relationship. ”

He frowns. “Let me handle the relationship with my dad. If you want the job, I’ll figure it out. Hell, it might get better if he feels someone’s there to carry on his legacy.”

I wait for him to address the slightly more prudent point in my argument, but he doesn’t.

“You clearly don’t want me to work for your dad. And I don’t have to decide right now.”

“Then don’t decide yet.” He shrugs.

“It’s that simple to you?”

“Is it not to you?”

“I don’t know.” My heart falls. I’m not sure what I expected, not necessarily a promise of undying love, but some small part of me was maybe hoping for a declaration that we wouldn’t break up so there was no reason to worry.

I should’ve known that Cal would be a realist. And it’s a real possibility.

We haven’t known each other that long, and sometimes love isn’t the most important thing.

“Lila, what is it?” He turns on the barstool, his knee knocking mine as he pulls me toward him by my empty hand.

“Nothing.” I shrug and glance up to meet his gaze. “No. Not nothing. I want some reassurance, I guess. My last relationship was going nowhere, and while that was partially my fault, I don’t want us to go nowhere. But I also don’t want to put my career on the back burner.”

“You want a promise you know I can’t make. If it was up to me, there wouldn’t be a question, but it’s not just up to me. There’s two of us in this relationship.” I meet his eyes, knowing he can see through the hurt I can’t possibly hide, no matter how hard I’m trying to reason myself out of it.

“Lila Summers, I love you. You’re exactly right for me in ways I didn’t know could be possible.

When I met you, it was like I didn’t need to make space for you in my life because the space was already there, waiting for you to fill it.

I didn’t even realize it was a part of me until you came in with your tequila shots and your reality TV shows.

” It’s so similar to how I feel about him I want to cry, my body not fully capable of containing the emotion rising within me.

“Ask me again. Ask me who I play for, because it’s you. You’re it for me. So, if you want me to say I don’t want to break up, this is me saying it. I don’t want to break up. I want you, however you’ll have me, for as long as you want me.”

He swipes his thumb under my cheek, wiping away the tears I didn’t even realize were falling.

I step between his parted thighs, setting my wine glass down to wrap both arms around his shoulders.

“I love you too, Cal.” I lean in and he meets me halfway, our lips pressing together in something more resembling a chemical reaction than a kiss.

It fizzes as the heat works its way up through my body, beginning at the tips of my toes as I rise onto them, up through my legs and hips, pulsing in my core.

It floods my chest—not just heat and lust, but love and comfort too—as it flows down my arms and into my fingertips.

I grip his hair, slanting my mouth over his.

He edges his mouth down my jawline, one hand tangling in my hair as he tugs my head back to give him room to move to my neck.

I groan as his teeth nip at my pulse point.

He stands, his other hand palming my ass as he presses against me, the hard length of his cock pressing into me so perfectly outlined by his grey joggers.

I run my hand up his shaft through the pants, and he hisses, his breath ghosting the shell of my ear.

I step back, lacing my fingers with his, and tug him toward my bedroom.

His hoodie is the first thing to go. He pulls it, along with his shirt, over his head in one yank.

My mouth is suddenly dry as I take in his chiseled chest and his stormy grey eyes blown wide with lust. He reaches down and peels off my own sweatshirt.

He swallows when he takes in my naked torso.

His rough palm skates across my skin, up my hip to cup my breast, kneading it gently.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to my mouth. I flush under his gaze, his words, his touch. It’s all too much and my body temperature rises at least five degrees.

He eases me back onto my bed, his hands moving to the waistband of my leggings, a question in his eyes. I life my hips for him, and he peels them down my legs, bringing my panties with them and leaving me bare before him.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, love.” His gaze drags over my skin, burning wherever it touches, and I feel as if I’m going to burst into flame if he doesn’t touch me.

“Please,” I nearly beg and reach for his own waistband.

He grabs my hands, holding both wrists in one of his own.

“I don’t want this to be fast. I want to show you how much I love you. How much I love your body, your mind, your soul.” He punctuates each part of me with a kiss, one to my sternum, one to my left inner thigh, the other to my right, as he settles himself between them.

“Please Cal, let me just feel you.” He smirks and takes one long lick from my center to my clit. “No, I need to feel you.” I cry. I’m begging, and I don’t care, even as a keening whine escapes me. I need him , not just to come but to join together, as completely as possible.

He stops immediately. “Lila, what’s wrong?” His eyes are frantic running over me in concern instead of lust, checking to see if I’m hurt.

“Please, you. I need you.” I repeat, and when the concern in his face doesn’t ebb, I lift my legs, shoving his joggers down with my feet.

“Are you sure? I can make sure you’re wet?—”

I silence him with my mouth, surging up to kiss him as my hands thread through is hair, pulling our bodies flush. I reach down to guide him where I need him, but he moves first. Keeping his mouth securely locked to mine, slipping two fingers inside me.

“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling back and dropping his head to my collarbone, before replacing them with his cock as he sheaths himself inside me in a single thrust. I moan, and my eyes sting as a piece of me comes together once more. He was right earlier.

“Love, what’s wrong?” His thumb sweeps across my swollen mouth, and I shake my head.

“Did I hurt you? You felt ready.”

“No,” I choke out. “I—you feel like coming home. And I missed you.” A tear spills over, and he kisses it away and then starts to move.

The heat from earlier is nothing compared to what I’m feeling now.

My senses are overwhelmed, and I can do nothing but cling to Cal, trusting him to get us both where we need to go.

I open my eyes, not even realizing I was squeezing them shut to see him watching me.

He laces his fingers with mine holding my hand up by my head as the other braces his weight.

He slides his arm under my leg, pressing it open against his shoulder as he slides deeper and keeping his eyes locked to mine says, “I love you.”

He snaps his hips faster and that’s all it takes before I’m spiraling into oblivion, crying his name. He must’ve finished right after I did, because as I float back to the bed, coming down from my high, he’s stilled inside me, his weight heavy between my thighs and breathing heavily.

I pull his head to mine, whispering, “I love you.” He kisses me then, full of promise and affection.

As I fall asleep, with his body curled around mine, I realize that this man is mine.

And I’m never letting him go.