Page 57 of Spark
“I don’t either.” His hands rest loosely around my waist. “We should talk.”
I nod, and he releases me. Not bothering with bowls, I bring the ice cream to the table and sit down. Mateo joins me. The connection of our knees touching under the table gives me hope we’ll work through this. He scoops a spoonful of the cappuccino crunch and crinkles his nose. “I like the raspberry better.”
I push the black raspberry toward him and take the cappuccino crunch. “I know I didn’t react well. It’s just…” Anxious, I shove an enormous scoop of ice cream in my mouth and instantly regret it when an icepick of pain shoots between my eyes. Dropping the spoon into the container, I press the bridge of my nose.
“Brain freeze?” A flutter of amusement skims his mouth.
"Yep." I hold my nose until the pain subsides. The weight of his foot between mine eases some of my anxiety. "I should have talked to you and not assumed that you'd make the same decision I would make." I pick up the spoon before dropping it back into the ice cream and pushing it away. "I don't want you to play."
His foot slips from between mine, and I want to reach under the table and yank it back to where it was. The harsh breath he blows out lodges a brick of uncertainty between my shoulder blades. "Rugby, the club, the friends I've made… it's the one thing that's kept me going since taking on the extra job. It’s my release. Some of the guys have become family.”
“Cam says the same thing.” I’ll admit, I’ve been impressed with how the guys in the club have rallied around Mateo, and me for that matter, during this time. But how am I going to keep from curling up in the fetal position every Saturday when CamandMateo are putting themselves in a situation to be catastrophically injured? "I want to support you… I do… I just… Seeing you splayed on the ground, not moving…" That it’s been almost six weeks since his injury doesn't matter. Bile scoots up my esophagus, settling in the back of my throat like an uninvited visitor until I swallow it back down. "I can't go through that again."
Walking away from football was easy for me. Track and field provided me with the physical outlet I needed and gave me the camaraderie of a team with limited risk of injuring another person. As an adult, I've worked hard with Aileene and Cam to foster the same kind of atmosphere at our company. There are ways to fill the void, and it's not like Mateo will never be able to see his friends again.
He takes my trembling hand. “Maybe it’d be better if you didn’t come to the games.”
“But I’ll still worry.” Even with my pulse thumping in my ears, I hear how unhinged I sound.
“What if I text you as soon as the game is over?” The smooth cadence of his voice coupled with the brush of his thumb over my knuckles have a tranquilizing effect. “Maybe you could join us after the games when we go out for beers. My buddy, Jalen, and his friend, Monet, meet up with us when they can.”
"You won't be upset if I don't watch you? I feel like I'll be shirking my boyfriend duties." I try to deflect from the intensity of my concern while I clutch onto his sweetness. He doesn't have to include me in that part of his life, but that he wants to is significant.
Gently, he cups my chin and places a barely-there kiss on my lips. “I’m not going to lie, I liked having you there, but if you don’t enjoy it, what’s the point? You’ll be worrying about me. I’ll be worrying about you worrying. Both of us will be miserable, and I won't be focused on the game, which could cause me to make a mistake and get hurt." I flinch, and he gives my hand a slight squeeze bringing me back to him. "We need to figure out an arrangement that will work for both of us."
“Agreed.” I don’t want him to play, but how can I prevent him from doing something he loves? Eventually, he’d end up resenting me. I know I would if our roles were reversed.
Tugging me closer, he rests his forehead on mine. The warmth of his words hits my lips. “And you need to talk to me. Let me know when something’s bothering you.”
“As long as it goes both ways, agreed.”
"Of course." The frigid tension that has plagued us since I first freaked out at the rugby field, shifts into spring buds blossoming. Their color bestowing hope after a long gray winter.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the time. “Shit. We need to get moving.” I tug Mateo to standing and hurry to put the ice cream in the freezer.
He follows, tossing the spoon in the sink, curiosity in his voice. “What are we doing?”
“We need to go to your place.”
He halts, tilting his head in question. “We were just there a couple of days ago.”
A buzz of excitement whirls around me, but I keep from clapping my hands. He’s going to freaking love what I got him. “Yes, but there’s a surprise coming for you there.”
“What did you do?” He dips his voice with his chin, sending a quiver of want through me.
“You’ll see.” I push him out the door into the garage, ignoring all quivers and wants because we need to leavenow.“Let’s go.”
As we reach the car, my sexy man spins and pins me. Arms bracketing my shoulders, he grinds his pelvis against mine. His length and hardness are drool-worthy. "What about make-up sex?"
I place a quick and all-too-chaste kiss on his lips and duck under his arms. “After your surprise.”
“You’re killing me,” he growls and adjusts himself, but his playfulness is back, and for that I’m grateful.
We pull up to Mateo's house two minutes before the delivery truck. I bounce on the balls of my feet when the truck stops in front of his place. One of the guys jumps out and looks at his clipboard. "Got a mattress for Mateo Rossi Ayala."
“I’m Mateo, but—” His eyes dart to mine, confusion coloring his expression.
“Right here.” I wave the guys in. “You’ll want to take the old one out first, right?”
