Dylan
The moment her body went limp, trembling and spent against the bed, he wrapped his arms around her waist and eased them both down, gently lowering her to the mattress. He stayed close, skin flush against hers, his chest to her back, his breath still ragged.
Ali whimpered softly, her eyes fluttering closed as she melted into the sheets.
“Shh, I got you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, then another to the back of her neck. “You did so good for me, baby. So good.”
She made a tiny sound at that—barely a hum—but it made his chest ache.
He could still feel the echo of her around him, the way she’d clenched when she came, screaming his name like it belonged to her. And it did.
It fucking did.
He reached for the blanket at the edge of the bed and pulled it up over both of them, then wrapped himself around her. One hand found her thigh, gently stroking the soft skin there. The other settled on her stomach, fingers splaying wide, grounding her. Letting her know he wasn’t going anywhere.
Not tonight.
He kissed her again, slower this time. “You okay?”
Ali nodded into the pillow. “Mhm.”
He held her tighter.
She needed this part—always had. He remembered the way she used to go quiet after they’d made love in college, curling up so small under the covers like her body didn’t quite belong to her again yet. Like she needed time to come back into it.
And he gave it to her. Every time.
He buried his face in her hair and just held her.
But even in the silence, the thoughts started creeping in.
I have to leave tomorrow.
Training camp was starting back up. Rookies were coming in. Peterson wanted him in pads by Wednesday. Kallie had been texting nonstop about the charity shoot he’d already rescheduled once. His agent was patient—but not that patient. And Dylan had been ignoring half a dozen reminders from the team about logistics and press appearances.
He’d already put everyone off for two weeks. Because of her. Because the second he saw her again, the second she let him back in, he couldn’t pull away.
But time was up. Reality was calling.
And he fucking hated it.
Ali stirred slightly, pressing herself back against him like she could sense the shift in his mind. Like she knew he was drifting, even if his body hadn’t moved an inch.
“Dyl?” she mumbled.
“I’m here,” he said instantly, kissing the curve of her shoulder. “Just thinking.”
She didn’t answer, but she didn’t pull away either. Her hand found his on her stomach and laced their fingers together.
He swallowed hard.
Tomorrow could wait a few more hours.
Tonight was hers.
Dylan couldn’t sleep.
Ali was warm in his arms, her back pressed to his chest, her breaths deep and steady. Her hair smelled like coconut and summer, her skin still soft with heat from earlier. He’d held her all night, barely letting her shift without chasing her in the sheets.
