Page 34 of The Unexpected Lineup (Lost in Translation #2)

WHY IS IT ALWAYS ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK WITH YOU?

HAISLEY

Y esterday’s events keep looping through my head, a relentless reel of emotions I can’t ignore.

It reminds me of that very first morning in October when I woke up next to him.

I remember wanting to see his face in the daylight and get to know him beyond the dark thrill of the night.

Even then, when I barely knew anything about him, when he was still a stranger with a mask, I felt it .

How well we fit together. How easy it was for him to make me feel beautiful, wanted, and cherished.

How natural it was to be wrapped in his arms all night long.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? I go back and forth, and maybe I’m driving myself mad over this, but I really don’t know how to feel about everything.

One part of me is falling for him. Harder than I’ve ever experienced in the past. Harder than I should.

There’s a small, cautious part of me pumping the brakes, holding me back as I start leaning in, ready to let gravity take me.

That part whispers in the quietness, asking me all the tough questions .

What if I’m reading too much into this?

What if he only wants me because of the baby?

What if I’ll eventually ruin everything between us?

I should have thought this through before I slept with him… again .

That’s the thing, though. I overthink, analyze, and second-guess every little thing. He lives in the moment and trusts his instincts most of the time. He doesn’t show hesitation if he cares about something or someone.

And boy, does he care.

Rasmus isn’t just fun and passionate. He’s also steady and unwavering in his support.

He cares with his whole heart, even if he sometimes tries to hide it and pretends he doesn’t.

But I know better by now. And maybe it’s how he embraces change and owns his responsibilities instead of shying away from them, but I’ve respected the hell out of him from the beginning.

So why is it so damn hard to let him in fully? Why do I keep thinking these things repeatedly, sabotaging something that feels so real? It’s also so damn unfair how comforting the scent of him, all warm and woodsy, is. It lingers on my skin, hair, and pillow under my cheek.

Frustrated with my thoughts, I push the sheets off and get out of bed. The cool air against my naked skin makes me shiver and I grab his bathrobe. It’s big on me, the sleeves swallowing my hands, but I tie it tightly around my waist.

I breathe in the familiar scent once more. Even when I’m trying to push him away, I still seek him out.

The realization settles deep in my stomach as I make my way toward the kitchen. There’s still a twinge of pain with each step, but my ankle is much better

But now, only a few weeks later, everything between us no longer feels fleeting. It’s so much more. And that’s what scares me and my scattered mind.

Rasmus is already in the kitchen, standing by the coffee maker. His back is to me, his broad shoulders relaxed as he bops along to the ABBA song playing. They’re singing about not wasting your emotions. How fitting.

Without glancing over, he reaches for two mugs. The simple gesture twists something sharp in my chest.

“Morning, sweetness.” His voice is still rough from sleep. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah.”

The lie tastes bitter the moment it leaves my mouth. From the way he tilts his head, he caught it. His sharp eyes flicker over my face as he reads me in that way he always does. “What’s wrong?”

“I was thinking about moving back to my place this week,” I manage to get out, tightening the bathrobe around me.

“Why?” His entire body stiffens as his fingers tighten around the counter, the muscles in his arms flexing as if he’s trying to hold himself back. “Why do you want to leave me?”

I swallow hard. “I miss my own space. I miss being alone and having room to think. Not second-guessing myself every second because I’m scared of what you’ll think about the way I am.”

“You think I’m judging you? ”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant.” His voice hardens. “You’re scared, so you’re pulling away before you can feel anything real.”

I wince, but he doesn’t let up.

“Haisley, I’m not going anywhere. I meant it when I said I’m here for all of it. For you. For the baby. Even when you keep trying to push me out.” He drags a hand across his face, frustrated. “We can’t unmake what’s already happening. Running back to your place won’t change it.”

His words press against every vulnerable part of me. I square my shoulders, trying to hold myself together. “I’m not running. I just need space to breathe.”

Rasmus lets out a rough laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You’re not running? Then what the hell do you call this? You’ve got one foot out the door, Haisley.” He shakes his head. “Why is it always one step forward, two steps back with you?”

I open my mouth but don’t have a satisfactory answer for him. At least, not one that would make sense. Not one I’m ready to say out loud.

“I honestly don’t know,” I whisper my truth.

He stands there, motionless, waiting for me to take my words back. When I don’t, his shoulders drop. Not in defeat, but in something heavier. Something close to resignation.

His gaze falls away from mine, settling on the two untouched coffee mugs on the counter. “I’m still here even when you’d rather I wasn’t.”

“I don’t want you gone.”

“Doesn’t feel like it, if I’m being honest. ”

My fingers twitch at my sides, wanting to reach for him but freezing halfway. “I’m trying. I don’t always know how to be vulnerable. Not after being burned so many times in the past.”

“I’m not them. I’m not going to leave because you’re scared and shutting me out. But I can’t stand here begging you to believe it every damn day, either.”

I blink hard against the sting behind my eyes. My throat feels too tight to speak, so I don’t.

“You know, you’re not the only one trying to figure this out,” he adds, quieter this time.

“I’m still learning too. I’ve let people walk all over me.

I let her…” His voice falters for a second, but he clears it.

“I let my ex convince me I was only good for providing the WAG life she wanted. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t want to experience feeling so worthless again. ”

“I don’t want to ever hurt you the way she did,” I murmur, my voice cracking around the truth. “But I’m terrified of screwing us up anyway.”

“Me too.”

For the first time in this whole conversation, there’s no sharp edge to his voice. Just quiet honesty.

A long silence stretches between us, filled only by his fingers tapping anxiously against the counter.

His walls aren’t as high as mine, but I know they’re there.

I’ve seen the way his mouth tightens when old wounds rise to the surface, the way he changes the subject or brushes it off with humor before anyone can look too closely.

“I’m not trying to make you feel like you’re not enough,” I say quietly. “The last thing I want is to be her or anyone who ever made you doubt your worth. ”

“And I don’t want to be another person who makes you think people always leave.”

He steps closer, cautious but steady, like he’s approaching a wounded animal that might bolt.

“I don’t need you to be perfect, Haisley,” he continues. “I don’t need you to have it all figured out. I just need you to stop shutting me out every time things get messy inside your head.”

Something about the way he says it unravels another piece of the tight knot in my chest.

“I’ll try, but I’m still scared.”

“So am I,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

He watches me for a long while after those words, his expression unreadable. Then he glances at his watch. “Fuck, I gotta leave for the pre-game skate in ten. But before I go, I want you to know I’d rather be scared with you than safe without you.”

He turns away, leaving his drink on the counter. He doesn’t say anything else or look at me as he leaves the kitchen.

And then he’s gone. I stand there, alone, staring at the two mugs still sitting side by side, and wonder how the hell love is supposed to bloom when both of us are still learning how to let it grow roots.