Page 36 of If You Love Me

“I can’t believe he signed my jersey.” She’s all smiles and happiness. “Can you introduce me to Roman Hammerstein now?” She points across the room. “He’s right there.”

I swallow, force a smile, and battle against the way my heart races when I’m about to deal with Roman—especially after what happened in the hotel gym. I swear, if he hadn’t walked away I could have made an untake-back-able mistake. “Of course.”

She grabs my hand and tugs me toward Roman, who’s standing with Hollis and Ash and Dallas. His gaze moves over me in a way that’s all too familiar before it shifts to Callie a devastating smile crosses his beautiful face. I’ve been on the receiving end of that smile in the past, and the things I was willing to do to see it again would make my great-gran roll over in her grave. I still wouldn’t take it back.

“You must be Calliope,” Roman says, and just like Connor, he crouches so she doesn’t have to crane her neck.

Callie’s eyes are saucers. She’ll probably talk about this day for weeks. “How does everyone know my name?”

“You’re a goalie, right?” Roman motions between them. “Goalies know goalies.” He glances at the number on her shirt. “And you’re a Grace fan.”

“He’s good at helping protect the net. And he’s not afraid to get into it with players if it means they don’t score,” Callie says, almost defensively.

“That’s absolutely true. He’s a talented player,” Roman agrees.

Callie’s smile is radiant. “You’re my second-favorite player. Fee and I watch all your games. Even when I was a New York fan because of Connor, I still watched your games, too. My dream is to be the first female goalie for the pros.”

“That’s a fantastic goal. You have to be really dedicated, don’t you?” Roman asks.

“I have practice Monday through Friday, and games on Saturday,” Callie informs him. “But I’m going to come and see you play on a weekend if I have an early Saturday game.”

“Maybe I can return the favor, if your sister is okay with that.” His eyes lift to mine, questions there. And maybe an apology.

“That would be…great.” Callie’s whole team will lose their minds. I’ll have to sit next to him for an hour. It would be the most amazing torture.

“I would love that so much.” And because she’s eight, Callie throws her arms around Roman’s neck.

His smile is soft as he squeezes her back. I’m pretty sure I just ovulated. Why does he have to be such a good guy? My heart clenches at how sweet he’s being with her.

He’s this massive, imposing man, a legend in his sport, someone so many look up to. That I spent a weekend with him, that he was mine so completely for that time, still feels like an impossible dream.

And to see him hugging my little sister, knowing what she’s lost, being a role model and someone she admires, while also being the man who was viciously, ruthlessly thorough in hisquest to bring me to orgasm any and every way possible… Well, that’s a lot for any woman to handle.

He is the perfect man. I had him. And now I see his beautiful face every day, remember all the ways he made me feel so good, and watch him be this awe-inspiring father, player, goalie, peer, mentor, and friend. It’s agonizing. Especially now that I know our time together meant something to him too. More than something, even.

When Callie finally releases him, I’m grateful that she grabs my arm and drags me over to where Fee chats with Tally, Rix, Essie, Dred, and Tristan. It almost looks like Fee and Tristan are having a moment. What’s even more astonishing is that she’s smiling and laughing and having a good time with surly as fuck Tristan. He’s usually so serious all the time, but here he looks relaxed and happy.

How much do I want to embrace this team like the family they are? Become fully part of it. It’s already happening.

I suddenly find myself on the edge of emotion, which occurs at the most inopportune times—like when I’m in a room full of my players. I can’t afford weakness when I’m surrounded by the team and management.

“Are you okay with the girls for a minute?” I ask Dred. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Yeah, of course. You go ahead. They’re in good hands.” Dred squeezes my arm.

The signs for the bathroom lead me through the kitchen. I take a moment to collect myself. I don’t know how to classify my emotions. There’s real grief, in part over the loss of my mom, but beyond that, my chest aches at having had someone so wildly flawless and never being able to fully appreciate him for longer than a couple of days. Would things have been different if I stayed? I was so young. In my mid-twenties to his mid-thirties at the time. Green. New. How would he have taken me seriously? Why am I entertaining this when it’s in the past?

I wet a paper towel and dab cold water on my neck. I’ll goback out there and stay close to Dred. She’s a safe space. I’ll keep my distance from Roman. I have to.

But I run into him as I pass through the kitchen. Every private moment with him feels dangerous. He’s chipping away at my defenses, leaving me naked and vulnerable in a way only he’s capable of. Every part of me yearns for him. For the easy smile that was once directed at me, for the feel of his body wrapped around mine. What I wouldn’t give to be his again for one more night. But more than that, I long for the other parts of him too, for the intelligent player who so easily shares his experiences, who guides and encourages. I want that man, too.

He stops arranging broccoli on the veggie platter and plants his fists on the counter. “I shouldn’t have offered to come to Callie’s game. I wasn’t thinking.”

“She would love for you to come.”

His jaw works. “And what about you? Would you love for me to come?”

My brain interprets that not at all the way he meant it, and before I can stop myself, I murmur a horribly moany, “Yes, please.”

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