“I’m not asking you to decide anything right now. But I’m in this. With you. No matter what it costs.” He leans down and plants a soft kiss to my cheek. I turn my head as he pulls away, his lips ghosting over mine. My eyes bounce between his. I want to reach for him and promise him everything. I take a step towards him.
“Tate—“My heart drops when he takes a mirrored step back and tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He bites his lower lip with a shake of his head.
“No, Alli. Not right now.” He tips his chin in the direction of my house, “Go, think about it.Reallythink about it. I couldn’t handle it if you said yes now, just to regret it later. Okay?”
“Okay.” I whisper. I gather the takeout bag from my car and head inside. Tate watches me the whole way. When I close the door, I can’t helpbut watch him through the peep hole. Tate’s thumb comes to his lips and his head drops. He starts towards my door, only to stop at the step. He doesn’t knock. Just drops his head against it. Then turns and leaves.
Chapter 36 -Alli
I sit back on the couch with my glass of wine. Ronan sits with his arm around Emalyn, and she’s pressed into his side. I blow out a breath and sink further into the cushions.
“Look, I’m just saying if you were in my position, you would do the same.” Ronan said eyebrows raised in defiance.
“No, I think you’re overreacting. He probably didn’t know.”
“Everyone knows you don’t eat someone else’s poptarts.Especiallynot the s’more’s.” Ronan rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I liked the guy up until then.”
“So you reported his motorcycle stolen?” Emalyn said slowly.
“Fitzatemy poptarts. The whole box. He doesn’t even like that kind!” Ronan exclaimed, sitting forward on the couch. “Honestly a night in jail will do him some good. Teach him some damn manners.”
“Whatever, Ro. We are here for Alli’s problems, not yours.” Emalyn put a hand over his mouth. She shrieked and snatched her hand away after he licked it. She wiped it on his cheek.
“Yes, let’s focus on me.” I nodded enthusiastically, more than a little buzzed at this point.
“So, age old question...” Emalyn held out both hands, palms up like a scale. “Career or love?”
The word hit my chest like a ton of bricks.Love.Tate was the kind of man that would catch me if I were to jump, that much I was sure of.
“Allison, you deserve to have happiness. A real chance at it.” Ronan said, he took a deep breath before adding, “You always take care of everyone else. It’s okay to put yourself first for once.”
“I can’t risk my job. What if it doesn’t work out? My birth parents gave me up because they couldn’t take care of me. We were on the streets. I can’t ever risk Hudson having that kind of life.”
Ronan waves his hand in the air like I can’t see him. “Hello. Multimillionaire, NHL goalie little brother here. You’re not alone anymore.” He shrugged. “Hudson has people. You do too. I think… Tate wants to be one of them.”
“I mean… Do you have to choose?” Emalyn asks before taking a sip from her glass.
“I guess not. I just have to be completely hands off this entire thing with Tate and TJ and any future interactions or coverage. It’s hard to let goof that too… I don’t really trust anyone else to handle it.”
Understanding showed on Ronan's face.
“I get it,” He sighs, “Letting go of control feels like losing protection.”
“Tate risked his own job to protect Hudson. If that doesn’t let you know that you aren’t alone in it, I don’t know what else could.” Emalyn added.
I lean back into the couch, the weight of it settling.
Maybe letting go doesn’t mean falling. Maybe it just means trusting someone else to catch me.
I pulled my laptop over onto my lap and typed out an email to Jameson. I had both Emalyn and Ronan proofread it so that it didn’t sound like a drunken ramble littered with typos. The CCO probably wouldn’t see it until morning, but I didn’t want to wait any longer.
*
I apply a perfect layer of mascara to my lashes and touch up my battle armour lipstick before marching into the office. Am I hungover? Yes. Yes, I am. But I'm not gonna let that stop me today. I’m on a mission.
Honestly, who does Jameson think he is? Other than the CCO, of course. Emalyn sits on the edge of Talia’s desk, feet swinging.
“Hell yes, you have your war paint on!” She grins hopping down, as sure as a mountain goat in her heels, “Can I sit in on the meeting?”
