“I know, but it could be easier. SportsCo has an LA office,” he reminds me, glancing up through those thick lashes. “Couldn’t you . . .”
He trails off because we’ve had this discussion more than once.
“They do have an LA office, but right now they want Twofer based in New York.” I pause significantly. “I know because I asked.”
He pulls back, surprise and pleasure mingling in his eyes. “You asked?”
“I want this to work, too, Deck.” I blink at the emotion that overtakes me when I think about how patient he’s been the last year. How he helped me so much as I got past Will’s death. “I want us to work so much. I love…”
I catch myself. What the actual fuck? We haven’t said those words yet. I know them. I believe them. With every fiber of my being, I believe them. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else, even if right now thousands of miles separate us most of the time. But that’s a big step. Those words are a huge step, and the last man I gave them to broke my heart in the worst ways with the worst goodbye I could ever imagine.
Deck doesn’t look thrown off by my slip, but just tucks my hair behind my ear and smiles down at me. I know he loves me. His eyes glow with it. I think the only reason he hasn’t said it yet is because he wants me to be sure. He knows how fragile I was after Will, and he’s handling me like glass.
Not in the bedroom. In bed, he fucks like an animal, and gets no complaints from me.
In every other way, he’s been extraordinarily careful with me; extraordinarily patient. And, yes. I love him for it.
I brace my hands on either side of his face, and lock my eyes with his, losing myself in the intoxicating bourbon of his gaze.
“I love you, MacKenzie Decker,” I say, my voice, my eyes, my heart steady and unwavering.
He swallows deeply. His hands tighten at my waist, feeling like they’ll crush me, but I don’t even whimper. I want to feel him any way I can.
“Avery,” he finally says. “Baby, I love you so much sometimes I think I’m gonna explode with it.”
He dips his head into the curve of my neck, feathering kisses there and into the collar of my dress.
“And I know I’m demanding,” he goes on. “Always asking for more of your time, for you to come here more, to meet me on the road. It’s not fair—”
“You come to me, too. You travel constantly. I’m always working. We have busy lives, but call me, and there’s no place I won’t come. This relationship is important to me.” I kiss his cheek, scrunch my fingers in the silky gold dappled hair. “You know that.”
“I do know,” he says, his eyes earnest, sober, loving. “And I don’ t take it for granted. I want to make you happy, Ave.”
I learned from Will that happiness starts with yourself; that your happiness can’t truly hinge on one other person in this world. In the end, other people can’t complete us, but can love us in our brokenness if we let them. There is a happiness you find with another when you’re first happy with yourself. The joy of shared struggles and ups and downs and trials and I’m there for you, and you’re there for me. It makes the contentment you find first with yourself even brighter, even deeper. And as we hold each other, the cool beach breeze blowing gently over us, I’m reminded of Deck’s patience as I figured that out; as I dragged myself out of the mire of guilt and shame and pain.
I have no doubt that’s the love Deck and I share.
“I am happy, Deck.” I snuggle deeper into my big man, his arms wrapped around me and sheltering me from the whipping breeze. “I’m already happy.”
Introduction
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August
There’s a million things I love about playing in the NBA.
Christmas Day games – not one of them. Christmas Day away games, even worse. But that’s what we had today. An evening game in New York. So my family wouldn’t have to travel on Christmas, Iris, Sarai and I flew in from San Diego yesterday, stayed in a hotel and enjoyed a leisurely Christmas morning. Even though we were away from home, at least we were together. With the game over, and it being so late, we decided to stay in New York tonight.