Page 26 of Accidentally Fudging the Beast
"They'll love you," he says again, like it's a fact. "And you aren't in the way. You're with me." He says it so confidently, like this is just how things are now.
I try again, desperate. "Trent, I can't just–"
"You can," he interrupts. "And you will. Unless you hate the idea of spending Christmas with me, in which case, say the word and I'll shut up."
He waits, staring at me, and I cantell he means it.
I look down at my plate, thinking about all the years I spent eating ramen noodles and stale donuts on Christmas. I think about the last time someone actually wanted me at their table. I think about how easy it would be to say yes.
But I can't.
I'm not that person. I don't belong in a family like his. I'm not good at meeting people, cheesy traditions, or pretending that I belong.
"I appreciate it, but I can't, Trent," I whisper regretfully.
He's silent for a second, and then his hand slides down my back, slow and careful. "You can, but I won't force you. Just know the offer is there, baby."
I nod, not trusting myself to say anything else. If I open my mouth, I might cry. Or I'll say yes, get attached to his family, and then when this all goes to hell, I'll be alone again, only worse.
He finishes his eggs, then leans in and kisses the side of my head.
I let myself lean into him, willing him not to break my heart. I'm a little afraid it's already too late for that, though.
Cleaning up the kitchenafter breakfast takes way longer than it honestly should. Every time I try to load the dishwasher, Trent sneaks up behind me and grabs my ass. At one point, he lifts me onto the counter and stands between my legs, kissing me so hard I forget what planet I'm on.
When I finally break free, we're both breathing hard.
"You're not supposed to be manhandling people. You almost died yesterday," I remind him, but the protest comes out weak…mostly because I'm smiling like an idiot.
"You're not people," he says, nipping my earlobe like that proves his point. "You're Dani. That's different."
God, help me. I can't resist this man.
"Hands off, Trent," I warn him, giving him the sternest expression I can manage as he actively tries to slip his hand up my shirt.
He rumbles a laugh and backs away with his hands in the air as if he knows when he's beaten. I still make sure to keep one careful eye on him as I wipe down countertops, just in case.
We finally manage to finish cleaning up, but the mess inside my head only grows worse with every passing minute. The longer I'm here, the deeper I sink. It's a serious problem, especially when I don't really want to leave at all.
There's a saying about fairytales. What is it? Oh, right. They happen to other people. And being with him feels a little bit like magic. I want tokeep it.
He leans back against the counter with his arms crossed, watching me like he's waiting for something. Eventually, I can't take the silence.
"What?" I ask, pretending I'm annoyed and not two seconds from tackling him to the floor.
He shrugs, but there's a challenge in his eyes. "You said no to Christmas," he says. "Fine. I don't like it, but accept it. You're coming with me to Colt's party tonight, however."
My heart slams against my ribcage, a nervous pit opening in my stomach. "Colt's Christmas party?" I ask. "You mean, with the team?"
"It's not as awful as it sounds," he says through a chuckle. "You'll have fun."
"I'll have an aneurysm," I correct, pressing a hand to my chest. "You want to bring your physical therapist to a team party, the day after we" —I gesture between us because, like a dork, I can't say the words— "and you don't think that's going to be the talk of the locker room until the end of time?"
He just smirks, pulling me into his arms. "I don't give a single fuck what they talk about, Sunshine."
"You're not supposed to date support staff," I whisper, but it comes out weak and unconvincing because I'm not actually sure if that's a rule for them or one for us. Players can pretty much get away with anything so long as they don't make the team or the league look bad. We're the oneswith a list of rules a mile long. And I'm the one who's broken the big one repeatedly.
"What we do is our business." He says it with all the confidence of a man who won't be at risk of losing his job when the execs find out. He has that luxury. I don't.
