Play Maker (Bitsberg Knights Duet)

“I bounced around at friends’ houses, sleeping on their couches for as long as I could before I had to move on. I didn’t want anyone to know I couldn’t go home because they’d call the cops or child protective services, and I’d end up in some foster home or worse. And still, my mom didn’t do one damn thing. She stayed with him. Hell, she’s still with him. I haven’t seen her in years. Haven’t even talked to her. It’s always the same story. He’s changed. He’s different. They’re doing well. But I know if I showed up there, it’d be the same old story. The rest of the family doesn’t do a damn thing. Her parents are gone, so are my dad’s. I’ve never even met them. I don’t have aunts or uncles or cousins. At least not that I’m close to. Some of them send Christmas cards. That’s it. So, on Christmas or on my birthday or on nights like tonight where I should be happy, I get lost. No—I get pissed. Pissed off that she was supposed to protect me and she couldn’t even protect herself. What kind of mom is that?”

I took a shaky breath and reached for him. I wrapped my arms around him, waiting for him to relax into the embrace, but he remained stiff. “I’m sorry, Ross. No one should have to go through that.”

My words sounded hollow, but I didn’t know what else to say. I was shocked, angry, and completely heartbroken for the man I cared so much about. The depths of his pain and loneliness were unfathomable to me. Even as an only child, I was always surrounded by love and support from my family and friends.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said, his voice thick. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I just…” his words trailed off.

I propped my chin on his chest as I looked up into his glossy eyes. “You don’t have to be fine. Do you know that? It’s okay to be pissed off and fucked up and need some time and space to process things. You don’t have to grin and bear it. Not for the world, and certainly not for me. I’m sorry if I pushed you, but I am glad you trusted me enough to tell me.”

Ross stared straight ahead, over the top of my head, for a long while before dropping his eyes to mine. A tear slipped past his lashes and fell down his cheek, glistening in the soft lights of the park. I wanted to reach up and wipe it away, but forced myself to stay still, my hands locked together behind Ross’s back. He shook his head and the tear bounced off.

Without another word, he lowered his lips to mine and gave me the softest, sweetest kiss of my entire life. I clung to him, desperate to melt into him. When he broke away, he kept his forehead against mine, his eyes still closed. “Thank you for being here.”

My heart fluttered in my chest at his quiet words. “There’s nowhere else in the whole wide world that I’d rather be.”

16

Shelby

We didn’t say much as we continued our long walk through the park. There was more strength in the peaceful silence. The words that needed to be said had been said. We held each other tight as we wandered the path and exited the street closest to our hotel. We made it back to the hotel room before the snowfall started and we watched from the lobby—standing near the huge fireplace in the center—as the snowflakes fluttered to the ground. After a few lingering minutes, Ross wrapped his arm around my waist and directed me to the elevators.

As soon as we stepped into the hotel room, my hands flew to cover my mouth. Ross had arranged for what looked like a hundred hurricane candles to be lit throughout the room, and deep red rose petals covered the white linens on the bed. “Oh my gosh,” I breathed, taking it all in. It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me, and it was so much more meaningful after the fragile, raw conversation in the park.

I grabbed a hold of Ross and popped up onto the toes of my heels to kiss him, wanting my lips to show him exactly how he made me feel. “Thank you. You are beautiful.”

He smiled softly. “I think that’s my line.”

“You know what I mean,” I said, returning his smile. “I just want you to know how special you are to me.”

“I know, Shelby.” He traced a finger down the side of my cheek. “Thank you for picking at me. I’m not used to that, but I think I needed it.”

I laughed. “Anytime, handsome.”

“Now can we talk about this special outfit you packed?” Ross asked, his eyes firing up with a twinkle of mischief and heat.