“Do youwantto juggle those two things?”
He looks up, his dark eyes wide and anxious. “Of course, I do. You truly doubt that?”
My chin trembling, I nod.
Roman looks pained. His shoulders droop. “I can’t believe I’ve let you doubt my feelings for you for a nanosecond. That’s inexcusable. Please, forgive me, Iris.” His dark eyes lookdownright panicked at this point.Good.I’m not a sadist, but Roman looks exactly how I’ve felt for quite some time now, and it feels good to know I’m no longer alone here.
“It’s not a matter of me forgiving you,” I reply evenly. “It’s a matter of us figuring out a way to do this, going forward.Together.A way that works for both of us.”
Roman nods. But a moment later, his face contorts, like he’s on the cusp of losing control of his emotions. He hangs his head again. Remains silent for an eternal moment. But finally, he murmurs, “I’ve really been struggling. That’s the truth.”
Finally.A breakthrough. I grip his forearm. “I know you have, my love. That’s been pretty damned clear. But I can’t help you if you won’t let me. If you don’t confide in me and lean on me. Let me in, Roman. That’s all I want.”
Roman lifts his head, takes a deep breath, and exhales it with puffed-out cheeks. “I don’t even know how to do that, honestly. I love you so much for wanting to help me, sweetheart, but nobody can. It’s nothing against you, personally. I’ve been to loads of sports psychologists over the years, including twice this week, but there’s no advice in the world that’s going to help me crack this fucking nut.” He bangs on his head with his knuckles, a grimace on his handsome face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me sometimes. I tell myself not to let one mistake get to me; I tell myself not to listen to the negative chatter about me. But that’s all easier said than done when the whole world is watching and reveling in your failure.”
“You didn’tfail. You had one bad game, along with every other player on the team. It happens.”
He shakes his head. “The whole world was watching and rooting for me to fucking fail.And I did.And now, that game is what I’ll always be remembered for, above all else. I’ll be remembered as a choker.” He swallows hard, clearly trying to stifle the emotion that’s crept into his voice.
I squeeze his forearm in my grasp. “No, my love. The best is yet to come.”
His chest heaves. “What if the haters have been right about me all along? What if I really am nothing but a loser, a choker, an overpriced, overhyped egomaniac who’ll never deliver when it matters most?”
An idea strikes. With full authority and confidence, I grab his hand and hold it firmly in mine. “Go put on some jeans and sneakers, baby. I’m taking you to the horse ranch for the rest of the day.”
Roman exhales. “Baby, no. I’m sorry. I need to watch some more game films and—”
“No, you don’t. Coach told you to take the day off.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts. Coach Hardy knows better than you. And so do I. Go on.” I point toward the staircase leading to our bedroom upstairs. “Get dressed, love. You’re coming with me. For the rest of the day, your ass ismine.”
Chapter 38
Roman
“Okie doke,” Irissays brightly, after tightening the cinch around Cheerio’s belly. “He’s all ready for you, cowboy.”
I lumber over to the horse and climb aboard. But I’m not happy about it. I love Iris, though. And she was absolutely right at the house earlier: I’ve iced her out, thereby stupidly risking everything with her. So, whatever she wants me to do today to fix my fuckup, I’ll do it.
In one fluid motion, Iris elegantly mounts Trixie nearby. “Ready?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her blue eyes sparkle. “Notice anything different about Cheerio’s tack today?”
I look around cluelessly, not sure what she means. At the reins in my hands. The stirrups at my feet. It all looks the same as always to me. “Is this some kind of a wax-on, wax-off thing? Am I supposed to find deep meaning in something mundane, or is there something really big I’m missing?”
Iris laughs. “It’s a small thing. Something I think might help me make a point to you.” She pauses, apparently awaiting something from me. When I don’t speak, she says, “Okay, I’ll tell you about it later, during the ride. That’ll give you the chance to notice it on your own.”
That’s fine with me. I’m not in the mood for guessing games today. Not in the mood to try, and fail, to reach some divine epiphany. I just want to take in the fresh air, enjoy some alone time with my woman, and try to make things up to her, as best I can.
With a squeeze of her thighs and a clipped clicking noise from her mouth, Iris expertly signals her horse to lead us out of the barn and onto her favorite trail. And for the next several minutes, we ride in silence, the only sounds coming from the horses’ hooves on the dirt and occasional rocks, mingled their soft exhales and whinnies.
“How are you doing back there?” Iris asks after a bit.
“Good.” I don’t how it happened or when, but it’s an honest answer. I’m good. Not great, but good. My shoulders and back feel a lot less tense and tight than only a few minutes ago. My mind is clearing, too. Could it be my brilliant Iris was on to something when she commanded me here, after all?
