The way my parents died, the fact we agreed to this thing until the season started because he couldn’t have distractions, and how I ignored our rule and caught feelings anyway. All of it was out of my control, and I slammed my eyes shut at what got me all worked up.
The date.
Jonah didn’t move a muscle or wince or snap back. His brown eyes softened, and he walked up to me and wrapped me in a hug. “Of course you can be sad. You don’t need to tell me why, but can I stay with you while you’re upset?”
Dammit.My eyes stung again, and this time, it was all him. I breathed in his clean scent and rubbed my face against his shirt as my pulse raced. This was more than friends. This embrace seemed to connect all my pieces together with his strength and understanding—which was terrifying.
Sleeping with my brother’s teammate was one thing, but having feelings for Jonah wasout of the question.
He rubbed his large hands up and down my back, effectively making me melt against him. Standing like this in our kitchen with his arms around me, I felt safe and not alone. My words came out before I could filter or stop them, and it wastherapeutic.
“My mom would’ve been fifty today. She wanted to do all these things and always talked about the big 5-0. Michael and I would’ve done something big to surprise her, like a party or matching tattoos. I don’t know,” I said, keeping my face pressed against his chest. “Life felt hard this morning, like each breath took twice as much effort and…I miss her. And my dad. They don’t know about all the stuff we’ve done and never will. I saw Preston with Hannah, and I know I’m young but…they’ll never meet their grandkids, and it sucks so much.”
Jonah cradled my face, and his grip tightened. He didn’t say anything, and for that, I was grateful. Talking about it—her—seemed to open a floodgate I'd locked up for months. “I go through waves of thinking I’m okay, that I can do this alone, that I’m fine, but then a memory hits me out of nowhere. A dream, a moment of deja vu, a date like today, and it’s like I’m seventeen, alone, and trying to figure out my life while saying goodbye to theirs.”
“Here, sit.” He lifted me off the ground and set me on one of the kitchen chairs. He kissed the top of my head, making my heart lodge in my throat. I wasn’t sure Jonah realized we’d both crossed theno feelingsline we drew with permanent marker. It glared at me with neon lights, but I turned on my blinders. This handsome, gentle soul who was misinterpreted by so many was sweet with me and it had me feeling some type of way.
“What are you doing?” I asked, sniffing and using the sleeve of my shirt to wipe the tears from my face. Jonah frowned at whatever he stared at in the fridge and pointed a finger at me with a tight jaw when I stood up.
“No, I’m cooking for you. You stay right fucking there.”
My body flushed at the determination on his face, and I propped myself on the chair so I could wrap my arms around my knees. Jonah pulled out eggs, feta cheese, mushrooms, spinach and set everything on the counter with a loud clang. Every few seconds he’d look over at me and narrow his eyes before going back to his task of cooking for me. He was terrible at anything that wasn’t straight protein or from a package, yet he was trying to make me happy.
“Shit,” he muttered, bending down to pick up an egg that fell on the floor. He tossed the shell into the trash and cleaned it up with a paper towel. “No, you stay there.”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes warmed, and he gave me his famous half-smile that made my toes curl against the wood. My mind raced as he cooked. He cooked scrambled eggs and tossed in vegetables and cheese, using the wooden spoon to stir it. His throat bobbed, and his face kept twisting into different expressions, like he was talking to himself. It was about the cutest thing I’d seen.
He left the pan there and got my toast, putting on butter and jelly. Next, he poured me a cup of coffee and set it on the table, spilling a little. He grabbed a towel and wiped it up as the smell of the burning eggs caught my attention. A little smoke rose from the pan, and within seconds, the fire alarm started blaring.
“Shit!” He pushed the pan off the burner and ran into the living room, coming back with a cushion. He waved it around like a maniac as I got up and opened the front door. After a minute of shifting the air around, the alarm stopped, and a fit of giggles took over me.
It started small, a little laugh, but it turned into a full-out belly laugh at seeing Jonah’s absolute horror and the disappointment on his face. His shoulders tensed, and he put his hands on his hips, watching me with worry.
“Jonah,” I said between giggles, closing the front door and approaching the kitchen.
“Whatis so funny?” he snapped, his cheeks staining red as I moved my gaze toward the stove.
“I didn’t know I needed to laugh, but this? Look at our kitchen. It’s a mess. We set the fire alarm off, and our place smells like burnt eggs.” I cackled again, and this time, the side of his mouth quirked up. “It’s funny.”
“I fucked up.”
“You did, but it was cute.”
He bit down on his lower lip as he eyed the kitchen, and after a minute, his shoulders shook with laughter. “Jesus, I was trying to be nice and take care of you and wow.”
“The effort was there.” I stepped closer to him, and his gaze sliced to mine, all soft and tender. His smile lingered for a beat before he furrowed his brows and cupped one side of my face with his palm.
“Go put clothes on.”
“Uh, I’m dressed?” I looked down, but he clicked his tongue.
“I’m taking you to lunch and then we’re hanging out.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, Ry.” He smiled again, full force, with his brown eyes lighting up in determination. “We’re having fun today.”
