A Complete Game (Washington DC Soaring Eagles #3) - Aven Ellis Page 0,60
earlier. Can I call you to explain?
Before I can even hit send, my phone rings in my hand. With a jolt, I see it’s Brady calling.
My heart leaps into my throat. I take a breath before I answer. “Hello?”
“Addison, are you okay? Your text had me worried,” he says, his voice steeped in concern.
“Oh, Brady,” I say, my voice wobbly. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I bailed on tonight. I’m not myself, and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“How could you disappoint me? Do you think I expect you to be happy all the time?”
“No, but … but why would you want to be with me when I’m in a bad mood and upset? We’ve only had two dates, and I don’t want you to have a crappy time with me on the third. I’m supposed to be presenting my best self right now, and trust me, tonight is not it.”
“But don’t you see? This is what I like about you. You are so genuine and real with me right now, and it makes me want to be with you even more.”
Tears prick my eyes. “How are you so perfect?”
Brady chuckles softly. “Believe me, I’m far from perfect. You haven’t had the pleasure of seeing me on a shitty day.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Oh, you can believe it. Ask Brody.”
“I will. And thank you for being so understanding,” I murmur as relief sweeps through me.
“You never answered my question, though. How are you? Are you okay?”
I smile. “I am now that I’m talking to you.”
“What if you could talk to me in person?”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say. “I look like a wreck, and you’d still have to drive across the river.”
“I told you, I think you are worth a drive across the river. And I don’t care what you look like.”
I laugh. “You would if you could see me. I’m in pajamas.”
“Are they sexy?”
Now I’m dying as I look down at my pajama shorts with the I Love Lucy logo all over them. Plus, my long red hair is swept back with a headband. “So sexy. It’s a pity you are in the Navy Yard.”
“I’m not in the Navy Yard.”
“Ballpark?”
“No. Closer. Very close, as a matter of fact.”
My pulse leaps from this hint. “Where are you?”
“Okay, let me explain. I don’t want to think you have to see me. I certainly don’t want you to think I’m disregarding what you said. But I’m here. I’m downstairs on the building’s front step if you want company.”
“What?” I gasp, surprised.
“Don’t feel like you have to see me,” he says quickly. “I’ll go home if you want to be alone, but your message . . . I couldn’t let that go. I’m here if you want to talk about it. Or if you don’t want to talk about it. And if you want me to leave, I understand. I just wanted you to know you have someone in your corner.”
I feel as if the wind has been knocked out of me. I can’t move. My heart is hammering wildly against my ribs and roaring in my ears.
Nobody has ever made an effort like this to make sure I was okay.
And his words—“you have someone in your corner”—resonate deeply with me.
Right in my heart.
Once again, a phrase I thought when I was with him before comes back to me.
Brady Jensen is the kind of man you fall in love with.
“Addison, if this makes you uncomfortable, I can go,” Brady says, interrupting my thoughts. “I didn’t mean to invade your space.”
“No, hold on,” I say, putting my phone aside. I leap up off the sofa, fumble inside my purse that is hanging off my wall hook, fish out my keys, and take off out of my apartment. I race down the stairs—which is a challenge in my fuzzy pink-and-white striped socks—and when I reach the landing, I open the door to find a surprised Brady standing on the stoop with his phone still to his ear.
He’s about to speak when I hurry over to him and put my index finger over his lips. “You,” I say, my heart feeling so blessed and full in this moment, “are the best man I have ever known. And I disagree with you. You are perfect. You’re absolutely perfect.”
Brady shakes his head. He places his hand over mine, moving it from his lips to his chest and holding it still.
“No. I swear what I told you a few minutes ago is true. I’m not