Page 34 of Dump Tackle My Heart
My chest tightens.
Not because of the words.
But because I can hear the ache behind them.
“Not here,” she continues, “Not when we’re in this perfect little snowed-in scenario.”
She draws a breath, and I feel her hesitation like it’s my own.
“Let’s just have Thanksgiving weekend. Then, when we go back to reality, we’ll take it slow. I won’t hold you to any promises you make here, okay? I just—I just want to enjoy this.”
I close my eyes.
And fuck me, it breaks my heart a little.
Because I get it.
She’s scared.
Of getting swept up.
Of believing in something only to watch it disappear.
But what she doesn’t know—yet—is that I’m not going anywhere.
Still, I nod.
Just once.
Because I can wait.
I can work hard and earn her trust.
I will do that.
So yeah, we’ll enjoy this weekend.
This moment.
This little snow globe of a world we’ve fallen into.
“I hear you,” I murmur, stroking my hand gently down her back. “No promises. Just this. Just now.”
She exhales like that was the answer she needed, and snuggles a little closer, her nose brushing my collarbone.
“Will you tell me what I did?”
“What?” she asks.
“The first time I fucked this up. What did I do wrong?” I ask, needing to know.
She looks embarrassed, biting her lip, but I smooth the flesh away from her teeth with a kiss.
“You-you compared me to a Scooby snack. Said I was one of the best. Like I was just a number, and look, I get it, you’re a professional athlete?—”
“I’m so fucking sorry, Dani,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers.
I don’t want her to go on, because I know what I did. In my postcoital bliss I ran my idiot mouth.
