“This okay?”
“Yeah. This is okay.” I let myself relax into him, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat under my ear.
“I’m still going to worry,” I said after a while. “Every game. Every hit. That’s not going to change.”
“I know.” His arm tightened around me. “But you’re not doing it alone anymore.”
I pressed my face into his chest, breathed him in, let myself sink into the solid warmth of him. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my shoulder. The ice pack was probably warming up, but neither of us moved to fix it.
“This isn’t about sex,” I said because I needed to say it aloud. “Tonight, I mean. I’m not ready for?—”
“I know.” His voice was soft. “That’s not why I asked you to stay.”
“Then why did you?”
He was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was rough. “Because for three weeks, every time I’ve fallen asleep next to you, I’ve woken up happier than I’ve been in years. And tonight felt too important to end with you twenty feet away.”
My throat went tight. I tilted my head up, found his jaw with my lips, and pressed a kiss there.
“Okay,” I said. “I can work with that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I settled back against his chest. “Now sleep. You’re injured and exhausted, and your body needs to heal.”
“You’re not sleeping either.”
“I’ll sleep when I know you’re okay.”
He laughed softly. “I’m okay, Tanner. Better than okay.”
“Then I’ll sleep when I believe it.”
His arm tightened around me. “Stubborn.”
“You like it.”
“I really do.”
I fell asleep with Seth’s heartbeat under my ear and his warmth wrapped around me, and for the first time in weeks, the fear didn’t feel like it was winning. It was still there—probably always would be. But so was he, solid and real and choosing to stay.
Maybe that was enough. Maybe it had to be.
I was done letting fear decide. From now on, I was choosing Seth.
8
SETH
I woke up with Tanner’s back pressed against my chest and my arm draped over his waist, and for about ten seconds, everything was perfect.
Then my brain caught up to my body and reminded me that we’d kissed last night. That we’d agreed to quit pretending we didn’t feel the chemistry between us. That I’d promised to be patient while he figured out if he could handle loving someone who played the sport that killed his father.
No pressure.
Tanner shifted against me, and I felt the exact moment he woke up—his body going from relaxed to tense in the space of a breath. He didn’t pull away, but I could feel him thinking, processing, probably cataloging all the ways this was a terrible idea.
“Morning,” I said, giving him an out if he needed one.
