Page 78 of Cross-Checked

She takes a deep breath. “I need to go.”

My hand clamps down on her thigh, trying to anchor her here so she doesn’t get up and leave. “What? Why?”

“I just...I have things I need to do today. I need to stop by the office?—”

“On a weekend?”

She looks away, and it feels like she’s avoiding my gaze so she can lie to me—and possibly herself—more easily. “Yep. There are things that I need to take care of before this week starts.”

There’s a hard edge to the way she’s speaking, and I know I should let her go. I should give her some space and time to work through whatever complicated emotions she’s having about our developing relationship, spending the night here, being part of this domestic scene this morning.

But I don’t want her to go. I don’t want her to have space or time, because I’m fucking terrified that if she walks out that door, she might not walk back through it again. I don’t know if making her talk about this right now is the right thing to do, or if I need to pause and leave the ball in her court.

I opt for the latter option, even though it goes against every instinct I have. I’m acting like a stage-five clinger, and I need to stop.

“Alright,” I relent, as she stares down at my hand where my fingers are curled into her thigh. I relax them, and she glances up at me. “I don’t want you to go. But if you have to, you have to.”

The impassive look on her face—the one I usually see at work but not in private—softens. “I’m sorry. But I do have to.”

I swallow and give her a nod while I sit there wondering what the hell is happening. I keep following my heart instead of my head when it comes to her, and it seems like it’s causing AJ to pull away. As I watch her run out the door without so much as a goodbye, I have to wonder if distance actuallyiswhat she wants?

“Thank you so much,” I say, handing Nicholas the baby monitor. Abby’s fast asleep, and hopefully she won’t wake up while I’m gone. “I really won’t be gone for too long, maybe a couple hours at the most.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “Nicole’s at the library tonight studying for a test, so I was just hanging around anyway.”

I’ve almost forgotten what it was like to have free time, back when my life wasn’t ruled by the whims of an adorable ten-month-old tyrant. Not that I’d want it any other way now that I have Abby, but sometimes, I do miss just being able to walk out the door when my teammate calls me about getting a beer, instead of having to scramble to find a babysitter. Thank god I have Nicholas, for now.

As I head out my door, I can’t help glancing at AJ’s. I wonder if she’s home? And if so, how long ago did she come back? Is she planning to reach out? Is she coming over tonight?

The thought of not having her in my bed is painful.

I’m not just desperate for her physical proximity, for the way we make each other feel when we’re together, but also for the way she opens up with me, the way she shows me who she is and how she feels in a way that she doesn’t do with anyone else.

It’s not just the sex. I want her. Allof her.

I want her to keep talking to me, to feel safe and comfortable enough that she keeps revealing parts of herself that no one else knows. I want to tell her about my sister, and how earlier today she texted me a listing for a house in her neighborhood, with the message, “Want to live on my street?”

I want to talk about why she’s refusing to renew my contract, when I’m barely asking for more money than I’m currentlymaking. I know what the salary cap is. I know what she’s already spending for next year. That’s why I initially told Trevor to be reasonable in the negotiations, but then AJ refused even a tiny pay increase despite my stats line and the fact that I’m the team captain.

Thenot knowingis killing me. Not knowing whether I’m staying in Boston. Not knowing how she’s feeling about us, beyond the amazing sex. Not knowing if she’ll ever want more than sneaking around.

I know I fucked up last night. I can’t demand we talk about my contract while I’m licking her pussy, driving her toward another orgasm after watching her make herself come. In fact, I shouldn’t be talking to her about it at all. That’s exactly the type of unethical shit she was worried about. But in that moment, I felt so desperate for her to know that Iwantto stay. That Iwantto work things out between us.

I don’t care that she’s my GM, but I know she cares. She’s poured everything she has into her career. She’s forsaken a lot in other areas of her life to be successful in her role. And I understand her fears about how she’ll be perceived by her peers, her employees, her players, and the media if this all comes out.

But I don’t give a shit about what anyone else thinks about this relationship, and I wish she didn’t either.

I’m so lost in my own head, trying to figure out what to do next, that I don’t see Walsh sitting at the bar until I’ve almost passed him and he reaches out to punch my arm.

“Shit. Sorry, man,” I say as I pull out the seat next to him. Unsurprisingly, the bar is pretty empty on Sunday night.

“You look exhausted,” he says. “Abby keep you up all night?”

“No, she let me sleep in, actually,” I tell him, feeling guilty because of course I look exhausted—I’ve stayed up late the last few nights with AJ. And the only reason I got to sleep in this morning was because AJ got up with Abby.

“Then why do you look like shit?”

“Pint of Guinness, please,” I tell the bartender as he slides a coaster onto the bar in front of me, taking the opportunity to avoid answering Walsh’s question. Finally, I say, “Didn’t know I looked like shit. Thanks.”

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