about getting off, not for either of us. This is a union of two people who have fallen deeply in love and now feel threatened with cataclysmic change.
This is an escape, a diversion we both crave.
“You are everything to me, Becca,” I murmur as I lift one of her legs so I can plunge into her more deeply.
Before I can, she stops me with a hand to my chest. “You are everything to me too, Lars,” she says. “That’s why whatever happens, we’ll figure this out. We will make it through whatever comes our way.”
“Yes, we will. But”—I lift her leg higher—“enough talking for now.”
That gets her to smile.
And then she’s moaning and coming apart—with me, together, as one.
After we clean up, we make our way over to the sofa, where we both fall asleep, with Becca sprawled out on top me.
At some point, I rouse and wake her. “We should go up to bed.”
“Yes.” She nods sleepily.
Slowly, we head to her bedroom.
It’s Friday night, so there’s no practice tomorrow. I’m looking forward to sleeping in and spending all morning with Becca. Every minute feels precious now. Maybe I’ll even surprise her and make us breakfast.
I’ve learned to make healthy versions of those muffin sandwiches we indulged in when we were up in New York. They’re amazing too. I use plant-based sausage, whole wheat muffins, fresh eggs from a local farm, and low-fat cheese.
Becca loves them.
That is my last thought before I doze off.
I sleep fitfully, though, tossing and turning.
Despite advising her not to worry about a trade, I’m extremely concerned.
I do not want to go anywhere.
My life is here.
My life is Becca.
Snuggling into this woman I’ve fallen so hard for, I finally find the peace to rest.
But I wake up early.
Since Becca is still sleeping, I’m careful not to wake her.
After I’m up and dressed in gray sweats, I head downstairs to get on with making that breakfast I was thinking about before I nodded off.
In the kitchen, I poach eggs and fry up the veggie sausages.
I guess the breakfast aromas wake up Becca, as she shows up in the doorway, yawning, her hair an adorable mess.
I can’t help but smile as I say, “Hey, sleepyhead. Hope you’re hungry.”
She looks fucking adorable in the hot pink sleep shorts and tee she must’ve slipped on after getting up.
Nodding sleepily, she assures me she is indeed hungry.
I catch her licking her lips, her eyes trailing down my bare chest to my low-slung sweatpants.
Hell, I know that look.
It takes everything in me not to walk over, say to hell with breakfast, and peel those cute pink sleep clothes right the hell off her hot body.
In fact, I think I might…
But then my cell phone rings.
“Who in the hell could that be?” I gripe as I reach for the damn thing over on the counter. “It’s Saturday morning.”
Becca shrugs. “I don’t know. You better get it, though. It could be important.”
I know she and I are both thinking the same thing—it may be about a trade.
I take a look at the screen and mutter, “Fuck.”
“Who is it?” she asks as the phone continues to ring.
“It’s my agent.”
“Oh, hell,” she breathes out, knowing full well this could be the call we’ve both been dreading. “Answer it, Lars.”
“Okay.” I place the call on speaker.
Becca deserves to hear whatever it is I’m about to.
When my agent starts talking, it’s clear from the start that this is bad news. I can tell from his dour tone even as we exchange pleasantries.
And then he gets to why he’s calling—the Dover Sharks, a football team in Delaware, are interested in me.
He says, “Lars, if the deal goes through, the Sharks would pick up your contract from the Comets. They may even add a year. All in return for one of their ‘cheaper’ wide receivers and a future first round draft pick.”
“Crap, they must really like me.”
“They do,” he says.
“What if I don’t want to go?”
Somberly, my agent explains, “It doesn’t matter what you want or don’t want. This is a decision that will be made by the Sharks and the Comets. Not by you.”
I place my free hand on the counter.
I need it for support.
I can hardly believe this is happening.
I listen to my agent as he tells me that though it looks probable, it’s not a “done deal.”
That gives me a glimmer of hope.
Becca must be feeling the same, as I hear her blow out a relieved breath.
“The Sharks would like to see you in action before making