I can’t believe no one’s done this for her before, but I keep that thought to myself. I don’t want any more bad blood than necessary going into tonight’s party.
“This might be the best birthday present I’ve ever received.” She kisses every ounce of breath from my lungs. It’s desperate, consuming, and so full of something I can’t name that my heart grows right here and now in this car.
In for a penny, in for a pound. When she pulls back to catch her breath, I cup her face with both hands. “You don’t need to perform well to earn love.”
A sob catches in her throat, like I’ve uncovered her darkest secret. Maybe I’m really just talking to myself. Maybe I’m trying to convince us both that love doesn’t have to be earned. My hands tingle the way they do when I have too much adrenaline and nowhere to put it.
“I love you just fine without any performance or expectations.”
She gasps, her eyes going wide. She’s still staring at me like I just dropped a grenade in her lap, and maybe I have. The rush fades fast, leaving that familiar hollow behind, the one that whispers: You’ve gone too far again, McAllister.
“You c-can’t. It’s only been a month!”
“Not to be a hopeless romantic, but some people fall in love at first sight. I know in my heart I love you. I’m okay waiting for you to accept it and realizing you might love me a little too.”
CHAPTER 42
Rhiannon
Idon’t know which way is up. Robert has just told me, in the front seat of my car, before going into my thirtieth birthday party, that he loves me.
People in my life say it all the time, friends, family, George said it often. But no one, not one single person I’ve ever met has told me they love me with the same conviction, the same emotion that Robert just did. Without condition like he just did.
My chest is so full it might burst, but I don’t have time to sit with it, to process what he said, or even to rebut the fact that I don’t need to earn love. Is that what he thinks I do with Dad?Isit what I do with Dad?
I really need to get on with finding a therapist, because if my boyfriend’s psychoanalyzed me in only a month, a therapist would have my number in a matter of days. Fuck. Am I a stereotype? Female athlete with daddy issues?
I shudder. Say it isn’t so.
Though all signs point to yes.
The car park is filling up with vehicles around us, and the car clock tells me we need to head inside soon.
“I don’t know what to say, Robert. You sure pick your moments.” I shake my head, my hair swishing from side to side. “Thank fuck you didn’t say all that in there. I’d have killed you stone dead for making me cry in front of my family.” I shove him, then I kiss him, then I shake him again.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I love him too. But I don’t want him to think I’m saying it because he did. So, I kiss him again, squeezing him so tightly he makes a little oof sound, and I give him a stern look. “We’re not done with this conversation.”
We stare at each other for a long moment, and for a fraction of a second, I contemplate leaving my own birthday party and taking this man home to make love to me all night. But it’s a milestone birthday, family have come in from all over the fucking country to make tonight special for me. And our Clíodhna accidentally told me that the queens of Larne are glammed up and ready to give the performance of the year.
A knock on the window startles us both. Aoife yells to get the fuck inside because there’s a party happening without us, and she wants cake.
We get out of the car; Robert takes my hand and leads me to the door. My stomach’s in knots, a tangled web of anxiety and excitement. “Robert?” I whisper without looking at him.
“Yeah?”
“Bring the fucking juice.”
“Seriously? You can play in front of fifteen thousand people out at the Glynn, but you’re anxious about a birthday party with everyone you know?” He pauses. “Wait. Never mind. Family over strangers, I totally get it.” He steps in front of me and grabs my shoulders with both hands. “You’re fucking amazing. You’ve got this. And if anyone annoys you, you tell me. Sully and I will fuck them out the window.”
He sounds so serious, I’m not sure I want to test him, and it makes me laugh.
When we make it inside, the whole crowd erupts into “Happy Birthday.” It’s mortifying, but at least they get it out of the way early, and it’s not hanging over my head the whole night. Everyone rushes to give me good wishes, hugs, and tell me their present is on the gift table by my parents.
Robert takes it in stride. Instead of leaving me to fend for myself, he silently stands by my side, shaking hands with my uncles, cousins, friends, teammates, and even some of my parents’ friends.
At some point, the crowd around me thins, and he guides me to a chair to sit. He returns with two drinks and a plate of sandwiches.
Fuck. I could marry this man.
