And lastly, there will be a public statement. I want everything out in the open before I make a decision, if it’s my choice, on a new team. This might sway the public opinion, or it might look like I’m trying to save my ass with this tall tale, but I know I’ll have enough people that back me up to give me a fighting chance.
Sometimes, you have to fight. That’s what this is: me showing up, trying to move forward.
Hands press into my shoulders and then arms hold onto me from behind.
“How was the call?” Sadie asks, dipping down and setting her chin on my shoulder. I swear, I can feel her grinning.
I kiss her cheek and give her the highlights.
She hums behind me, arms tightening, like she’s holding the pieces together just by being there. Her chin shifts, settling more comfortably on my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck.
I turn my head enough to catch her smile out of the corner of my eye. It’s soft, almost like a promise. One that makes me believe the universe has a hand in our lives.
“What if it doesn’t work?” I ask quietly.
She straightens, her chin lifting from my shoulder before she steps closer so she can lean in again—this time her cheek brushing mine. “Then we deal with it,” she answers simply. “But it will work. Maybe not in the neat, movie-montage way. But you’re telling the truth. You’re showing up. That counts for something.”
Her fingers squeeze my shoulders, grounding me. “You’re not the guy people are trying to make you out to be. Anyone who actually listens will see that.”
I swallow. My chest feels too full, like everything is pressing outward at once.
“Hey,” she murmurs, nudging me gently. “Look at me.”
I turn to face her, knees brushing hers. Sadie cups my face with both hands, thumbs warm against my jaw, eyes steady and bright.
“You’re going to be okay,” she says, like it’s not a guess but a promise. “I have no doubt in my mind.”
Something in me breaks open at that. Fuck, it’s been breaking open since I met her. The fear starts to evaporate, replaced by this overwhelming, almost dizzying affection.
I stand before I even realize I’m moving. Her hands slide down to my shoulders instinctively, laughing a little in surprise when I scoop her up.
“Hey—” she starts, but it dissolves into a grin as I lift her like she weighs nothing and set her on the counter.
She settles there easily, knees bumping my hips, arms looping around my neck. We’re eye to eye now, close enough that I can see every tiny fleck of color in her irises.
“I love you,” I say, the words spilling out without hesitation. They feel solid. Certain.
Her smile is gentle, something tender and shining in it. “I love you, too.”
I lean in, pressing my forehead to hers, hands firm at her waist, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the future doesn’t scare me.
It feels like it might be worth it after all.
fifty-two
Sadie
Hisfingersdigintomy sides and it almost tickles. A laugh starts up in my chest; when I hear it, it sounds like true happiness. It’s hard for me to think back and remember a time when I felt like this. Recently, or ever.
Colson does that to me. Makes me feel like I can fly. I keep thinking back to the first day we met. The dent in his car. The deep grooves in his pissed-off face. Grooves I like to try and kiss, like finding the start of our story.
His lips find my neck and I tip my head back, giving him all the access he needs. Colson stands, my knees on each side of him.
“Hey,” I try holding the giggle back, “I thought you were hungry.” I look to the cutting board I’d pulled out to make us lunch.
“Oh, I’m starving.”
“Then let me down so I can help with that.” I grab the front of his shirt, pulling him to me.
