Did I hear that right?
“Blair. One of the guys? You’re joking, right?!” I can’t hide the eyeroll because this doesn’t compute in my brain. Blair thinking I wasn’t interested in her? How?
“We never had any close calls. Or I never felt like you wanted anything other than being my friend. Until recently? And there’s just a lot at risk.” She looks up at me, eyes full of hope.
It takes everything I have to keep my mouth shut until she’s done talking. “There weren’t any close calls because I knew I’d take whatever you’d give me. However, when you let me in? I was all over it. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, and fuck, I couldn’t not at least be your friend.”
Blair smiles, word by word, and reaches for my hand. I squeeze it and she squeezes right back.
“I’ve sat back and watched you date and not date, break hearts and pick yours up from the blackest of holes, and I’d do that forever if that’s all you have for me. Maybe I didn’t know what I felt for you, or maybe I was too afraid to come to terms with it, but it’s undeniable. You’re the kind ofwoman I thought could be it for me, and fuck, I don’t know, maybe the timing is right.” My free hand reaches for her chin and tips it up until I’m a breath away.
“Tyson, you don’t have to—” she says, but I interrupt her. I have to.
“I love you, maybe I always have, but right now? I’m fucking in love with you. I’ve tried to hide it, tried saying there was someone else better for you. That you deserved more. But now, it’s different. You and me, in the same place. On the same team? What if we deserve each other?”
I put it all out on the line. Ask the questions. Open my heart up and let her see all the inside crooks and crannies. And I hold my breath as the woman I love drops her jaw.
Twenty-Four
Blair
I’minlovewithyou.
Tyson just said that. Did I hear that right?
If I wasn’t sitting down, I’d probably be falling over at this point. The flush of confusion and excitement rushes over my face and I can no longer hide it. Wouldn’t matter because I’m sitting here with my jaw practically on the floor at this point.
Tyson loves me.
To ensure my mind isn’t playing tricks on me, in some sort of orgasm coma, I ask, “You love me?”
“One thousand percent.” He nods as if I asked if he needed water on a sweltering summer day. Not a single second of hesitation, his eyes bright and clear—just like his answer.
Warmth spreads through my chest, soothing the stress, the questions needing answers. The sound of the flames on the logs is the only thing between us.
“And I don’t want anyone else. I tried. But even just as friends, no one else measured up.”
His confession tickles something in my brain. Tyson never really dated. Sometimes we’d go out together, where our casual partners may or may not have met up with us. But there’s never been someone else with him at Thanksgiving. Or other major life events. It’s always been me and him. Part of me did wonder about the day he would call, tell me he met someone andhe’d like to bring her home for the holidays. It felt like that day was always coming, looming in the background, but maybe it didn’t have to.
“What are you thinking?” Tyson asks, picking up my hand and placing a soft kiss on the inside of my wrist. His words are soft, like I could fall into him.
“You never brought anyone else home. I sort of waited for the day you’d call, tell me about the woman of your dreams, and what that would mean.” Pausing, I look at our hands, as Tyson rubs circles on the inside of my palm with his thumb. “I don’t want to share you, Tyson. The thought makes my skin hurt.”
“The woman of my dreams? It’s you.” He grins and the joy reaches his eyes, skin crinkling around them.
The weight of this circles me, pressing in from all directions. “I can’t lose you. There’s a handful of people in my life who are steady, a key part, and you’re one of them.”
“I promise, you could never lose me.” He reaches for my other hand and pulls me closer to him. “I know this is complicated and it’s not only my decision to make. And we have time. It’s not like we have to rush it.”
He means it. Only Tyson would confess his love for me and expect nothing in return. Selfless to a fault, in a way that’s always made me love him the way I do. Honestly, I don’t feel the pressure to make a choice. Because there’s only one answer. We’ve been dancing around this for a decade and I don’t want to waste any more time. No more dancing. No more almosts. No more wondering.
I stand in front of Tyson, only to straddle him, one knee on each side of his thighs. The grin he wears grows as each second continues. My fingertips push into his hair and I kiss him. His hands find my sides, gripping my rib cage before going around my back, pulling us closer together.
“I think we’ve held out for long enough,” I smile into him. “I want to be with you. Only you.”
He hugs me tight, kissing the crook of my neck. Being around Tyson always felt good. Safe. I knew he always had my back. But this is different. It’s like finding the missing piece of the puzzle sitting on your table for far too long.
“I know this is complicated. The team. The press. I don’t even know if there’s a no fraternization policy? We have some time to think about what happens when we go back to New York, but what do we do when we’re here? With your family?” I ask as Tyson continues to hold onto me like I’m about to slip away.
