We sat in silence for a few seconds.
“Your parents?” he prodded.
“My parents expected perfection.” I forced a smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents. They’re great—smart, successful, loving people. But they are perfectionists, and that’s hard.”
“Perfect doesn’t exist.”
Feeling his words deeply, I bit down on my bottom lip and nodded. “Exactly.”
“Is that why you’re so close to your aunt?”
“Aunt Addy has always related to me in a way my parents didn’t. She always understood me. My parents…” My words got caught in my throat, so I just nodded until I could continue. “My parents understood perfection.”
“I get that,” he replied. “My dad wasn’t the typical football dad. He instilled the love of football in me. I’ve been playing since I was five. But when I didn’t have practice with the team, he had drills for me to run at home. I worked until I got it right. He’d always say to do the work so that when it matters, you get it right the first time. He wanted me to be perfect on the field. He wouldn’t accept anything less.” A small smile played on his lips as he shook his head. “It was tough growing up with that mindset. So I get where you’re coming from.”
“That made you closer to your mom?”
“Yeah.” He paused. “But also, my dad died when I was fourteen, so all I had was my mom.”
I gasped, grabbing his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He covered my hand with his, allowing his thumb to stroke my skin. “It’s been twelve years. It’s okay.” He leaned closer to me, staring into my eyes. “But thank you.”
“It makes sense.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I realized it.
His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What does?”
“It was your dad who fostered your love of football, and you work with football players. You’re creating a program to help them, and you’re passionate about making sure they get it right the first time. After all the pressure he put on you, you’re helping to alleviate some pressure from others. I can’t help but think that your dad’s influence is all over that.”
His fingers stilled, and he just stared at me.
He looked like he was going to kiss me, but instead, he leanedforward and pressed his lips against my forehead. He rose to his feet and then extended his hand toward me. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Grabbing the blanket, he held me tight to ensure I didn’t slip on the stones as we made our way to the SUV. Even though we were on solid ground, he didn’t let go of my hand. He hit a button on his key to open the liftgate. Just as we approached the vehicle, I had to break the silence.
“What I said back there…” I said quietly, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry.”
He tossed the blanket in the back and turned to me, pulling me in close. “Stop.”
“I overstepped—”
Without warning, he leaned down, pressing his full, soft lips against mine. He stopped my sentence and my heart with that kiss. With my eyes closed and his mouth on mine, nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. My mind went blank, and warmth coated and filled me.
I’d never experienced a kiss like it.
8
Pulling away slightly, he rested his forehead against mine. Even though the kiss had been brief, I felt it everywhere. Opening my eyes slowly, I met his heated gaze.
“You didn’t overstep,” he uttered.
“You got quiet and then wanted to leave,” I whispered against his lips. “I thought it was because I said something wrong.”
“No. Not at all.” He sat in the cargo space and pulled me between his opened legs. With him seated, we were eye to eye. “What you said just… The way you see me… that’s not something I’m used to, and it just…” He licked his lips. Placing his huge hands on my cheeks, he searched my face. “And I was trying not to kiss you.”
“Why?”
“Because you seem like a good girl. I know you’ve been through some shit. And I didn’t want to rush you or make you uncomfortable.” His hands ran from my cheeks down my neck, over my shoulders, and down my arms until we were holding hands. “I want to spend more time with you. I’m feeling you, and I’m not trying to fuck this up.”
