I laughed. “No. He’ll have to see me. Even if they don’t want me, they have to release me—to another team, or altogether. Depends on the status.” A dull ache still lingered when I thought about being kicked out.
Walter nodded, rubbing his back again. “Good luck. Just let us know when that’s happening.”
Us.
I wasn’t sure if he meant himself and Simon, or himself and Rio. Either way, it felt like a loaded statement.
And it reminded me that I was still trying to find the way through this.
My options weren’t great. If Simon thought that I should fix this entanglement by cutting things off with Rio, that wasn’t happening. Not unless she wanted to. And even then ... Hell, I’d told myself a hundred times to take a step back, to be smart about this. But with her? I couldn’t.
I was in too deep. Addicted. Heart, body, mind, soul. Powerless to do a damn thing about it.
And if Simon meant I’d already broken it beyond repair—if he thought this thing with Rio had an expiration date I wasn’t willing to admit—then maybe he was right to be pissed at me.
But I wasn’t hiding the truth from him.
My team lost points in the last few games, and I knew they were eager to bring in someone in top shape. If that happened ... well, I’d get the final boot, and that might save me the need to decide. From the moment that hard tackle sent me skidding, my leg twisting the wrong way, the choice had never really been mine, though I’d fought against that by trying to heal. I was used to being in control when it came to my career.
Now, I wasn’t in control of anything.
RIO AND I WERE BOTHstalling, probably because, by design, we clung to the here and now. But despite what she’d said after we got back from Nicole’s dinner, I decided to bring it up a few days later.
“Did Simon talk to you?” I asked.
“Not since telling me at dinner that I’d better know what I was doing. What did he say to you?”
“Something like that.”
Knowing her, she’d rip him a new one if she knew what hereallysaid, and that would set off a domino effect of broken relationships between the three of us.
“Owen, I told you, whatever comes later, comes later. Okay?”
“Okay. I just—” I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t want you to think I’m ignoring what this means for us.”
“I know that things are up in the air right now. I like it that you don’t make empty promises like others might have.”
I love you, I nearly blurted out.
I wanted to say it.
I had no idea how I landed someone like Rio, but to say that just when she said she didn’t want me to make hasty promises before I knew where I was going to fucking live—that sounded like a bad idea. But I had to show her somehow.
She was already busy hunting for her clothes, as it was another morning after another late night.
I should’ve been content, satisfied, but the more I was with Rio, the greedier I became for her.
She had just found her bra and turned to grab her jeans, I pulled her against me.
“Owen—”
“You have time.”
She gasped as I dragged my lips up her shoulder and neck. “I really don’t.”
“You really do.”
I swiped everything off my desk, flinging it all to the floor, and lifted her onto it.
