Page 46 of Love of the Game
He took both my shaking hands and gave them a squeeze. “You do. And you will, when you get over the shock.”
He didn’t want me here? “I thought…” I pulled my hands from his. “So it’s just—what? Goodbye?”
He looked at me as if I’d started speaking anotherlanguage he didn’t understand. “No?” Then his face flitted from bewildered to understanding, to exasperation. “Oh my God, Drake.” With that, he pulled me into a hug. “We’re not breaking up. You’re going to play on the Lions, like you’re supposed to. We can still see each other, still date. All of that.” He pulled back. “Just—we won’t be living with each other. It’ll be like a more normal relationship, I guess. You know, where people have to schedule things and all that…”
My aching heart ticked down a notch. “You mean like the dinner date we still haven’t managed? The one I was finally going to take you on for your birthday?” Jon still wanted me. That was—that was good, right?
This time, Jon’s smile was its normal brightness, as was his laugh. “Hell, we might actually manage an actual dinner date if we’re not living together.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll get coffee going. Guarantee you’ll feel better and things won’t look so dire once we chase away the sleep from your head. This isgood news, babe. Don’t you worry about us. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“But—your birthday.”
“Shower,” he said with finality.
So I got my ass out of bed and headed to do that.
He was right, the shower helped chase away some of the cobwebs, and the confusion and worry seeped away to be replaced by exhilaration. Holy shit, I was going back up! I had to go get my gear. Pack. Shit. Cancel the dinner reservation.
As promised, there was coffee waiting for me in the kitchen, along with Jon, dressed in sweatpants and an old Otters T-shirt that had seen better days. “I have so much to do,” I said.
He shook his head. “Get your gear. I’ll pack some stuff up for you. You can come back later to get whatever else you need. You don’t have to worry about getting all of it now. Plus, you’ll be home—there’s probably still a ton of things in your apartment, right?”
There was, yeah. I took the coffee, drank, and looked around. “I really like it here, though.”
“I know. Look, we’ll figure out the logistics, okay? There’s time. I want to make this work, you want to make this work. We’re only an hour apart. I mean, there are couples in entirely different cities who make this stuff work.”
Jon’s coffee tasted perfect. It cut through the rest of the fog in my head and the weight of what Jon was saying finally kicked in. “You want to keep dating. Like—really—want?—”
Jon heaved a sigh. “Babe, come here.”
The brevity of that made me blink. I shuffled closer. He took the cup from my hands and placed it on the island, then pulled me into a kiss that had me startled, then moaning, then nearly weak in my knees. I planted a hand on the island and wrapped the other around him.
When he relented, he pulled back enough to look me in the eyes. “Yes,” he said, emphatically. “I want to keep dating you. If the Lions were in Florida, I’d be calling my agent to get me traded closer to you. This is for real for me. Pretty sure it is for you, too?”
“Oh. Um.” I swallowed. “Fuck, yes. I—if there was time…” I glanced at the clock. I really wanted him right then and there.
Jon rolled his eyes, probably feeling my desire against him. He gave me a little shove. “There’s no time. Go getyour gear. Swing by on the way to Pittsburgh, and I’ll have stuff packed for you.”
I grabbed the coffee and drank it as quickly as I could while I gathered my wallet, keys, and coat. “Wait, I made reservations…”
“Where and when? I’ll handle it.”
“You can still go.”
He waved a hand. “The birthday will keep. I’ll be thirty for 364 more days. Rain check.” He paused. “Or in this case, really fucking good news-check.”
I laughed at that, feeling lighter. This would work. We would work.
A kiss goodbye, and I was out the door.
I guess the staff at the arena must’ve gotten word, too, because all of my gear was packed up and waiting for me when I got there. “Good luck, Dragon! Make us proud,” Hank said.
Back at Jon’s, there was a suitcase and a suit bag waiting for me. “I know you have suits at home, but these are clean and pressed. I also packed the book you were reading, and a couple others. All your toiletries.”
“I love you,” I said. “I hate leaving, but—I want to play.” I was going back to the big show, back to the team I thought didn’t want me.
Well, they wanted me now.
“Of course you want to play. Call your mom when you get to Pittsburgh.” He helped me load my things into the SUV.
