Page 109 of Hard to Hold

“It’s the digital age, can’t we do one of those electronic signatures?” I ask, not wanting to take any chances.

“We’re still buttoning up the final details. I’ll get it to you as soon as I have it . . . but in the meantime, sit tight for details.” Someone says something to him in the background. “I’ve got to run. Talk soon.”

Finn ends the call and when I look at my email, at the staggering numbers on the page and the seven-year contract connected to it, I sag against the wall at my back in relief.

Tears fill my eyes.

I feel stupid, but it’s not until right now, this moment, that I realize how fucking scared I was that I was going to be transferred.

That I’d be kicked out of the one and only true place I’ve ever called home.

I take a minute to soak in the moment. To appreciate that I didn’t fuck up my life in the process of saving Rory’s.

That this nightmare is finally over.

And then I set off through the house like a madman.

“Nox! Lennox?” God, I need her. “Lennox.”

“Rush? What?” She runs into the kitchen and I grab her before she can ask anything else. I press my lips to hers.

Her laughter breaks us apart. “You can’t give me a heart attack just to kiss me,” she says and then pulls on my shirt to take one more.

“They want me back. Liverpool wants me back. Offer made. Contract in the works.”

She freezes momentarily as her eyes find mine, and then a megawatt grin overtakes her face. “Congratulations.” She slides her hands around my neck and presses her lips to mine again. “I’m so happy for you,” she murmurs.

“Oh, Jesus,” Johnny says as he rounds the corner and puts his hands up in an X over his eyes. “I have guests in tow. Can we not put on a live sex show for them? I mean, I’m known as the party boy, but this is a little much.”

“No shows will be happening,” I say as I pull Lennox against me, my hands digging into her back pockets. “But there will definitely be partying.”

Johnny’s eyes narrow. “For what?”

“Because I’m going back home soon.”

Johnny whoops out and says “Liverpool?”

“Liverpool.”

“Fucking A straight, baby,” he hollers at the top of his lungs. “Time for alcohol!” And whoever is behind him cheers loudly.

But I’m not so wrapped up in the moment that I don’t feel Lennox’s jolt.

How could I be when I feel the same way too? How can I be when the woman in my arms feels a lot like home to me now too?

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

LENNOX

“IS THERE A REASON YOU’RE out here all on your lonesome?” Johnny asks, taking a seat beside me and wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

“No reason,” I say and rest my head on his shoulder, welcoming his presence. “Just making decisions.”

Rush’s laughter floats just above the music playing on the overhead speakers. Inside is a party of sorts, with the friends Johnny brought home and some of the guys from the MLS exhibition team that Rush has been playing with.

I believe there’s a drinking game happening over foosball but I don’t know for sure.

“Would those decisions have anything to do with the man currently three sheets to the wind inside?”