Gage (Pittsburgh Titans 3)

“You awake?” Gage murmurs, pressing his lips to my shoulder.

“Yeah,” I whisper, snuggling back into him.

Lifting his arm, he brings his watch closer to his face for a look. “Ugh… I have to be at the arena in an hour and a half for a team meeting.”

Gage had been told after last night’s win that there would be a mandatory meeting this morning to discuss logistics of moving forward into the playoffs, especially given the upheaval after the termination of Matt Keller.

Shifting and adjusting the covers, pulled up over my shoulder, Gage flips me so I’m facing him. “Good morning,” he says with a smile, leaning in to kiss me.

The kiss is chaste, just a brush of lips. “Good morning,” I murmur.

His arms are around me again, this time his palm running over my back. I can’t help the slight flinch upon first touch. Not sure I’ll ever get over it, but it’s a struggle to push down thoughts of embarrassment and shame, even if we had moments last night where Gage looked at my scars. That was so sweet and beautiful, in the dark of his room with only ambient lamplight.

But here in the bright light of day, my eyes puffy from sleep and mouth stale with morning breath, I’m exceedingly self-conscious.

I don’t know whether he feels my tension, but Gage doesn’t press me for anything, instead asking, “You hungry?”

“I could eat,” I reply. I’m an early riser by nature, and we slept in a bit, so my stomach is ready.

“All right.” Gage kisses me again, this time quickly but fiercely, leaving me breathless. Then he’s rolling off the bed, in the process pulling at the covers that are hiding me. I grab them back, tuck them around me, and watch with pure pleasure as a naked Gage Heyward moves without an ounce of shame.

He’s a work of art. Perfection of body.

His soul far transcends that beauty.

Moving to his dresser, he pulls out a pair of sweats and steps into them gracefully. Looking over his shoulder as he ties the drawstring, he asks, “Eggs and bacon?”

I nod. “And coffee.”

“Get up, lazy butt.” He beams at me and walks out the door, grabbing his cell phone from the nightstand on the way.

When Gage is out of sight, I roll from the bed, taking the sheet with me. I don’t have the guts to walk naked around the bedroom in broad daylight to get my clothing. Just as I’m bending over to pick up my panties, Gage walks back in. “How do you want your eggs?”

I yelp as I straighten, clutching the sheet at my chest. I feel heat flame my face, and Gage freezes. All within a single glance, he takes me in—wild-eyed and looking uncomfortable—and his expression softens. “Sorry… didn’t mean to catch you unawares.”

“No,” I exclaim, rushing to assure him. “It’s not that…”

Gage stares at me.

“Okay, it is that. I’m still not entirely comfortable with you seeing all of me.”

“A little too bright?” he guesses.

I nod in agreement. “Last night was very romantic. Soft light, sweet words. Right now, I’ve got horrid breath, I really need to pee, and it’s too bright. I’m just not ready to have you see me like that.”

“I love you, Jenna,” he says, and I’m so startled, the sheet slips a little.

“What?” I gasp.

Gage walks to me, cupping my face in his hands. “I love you. Simple as that. I love you just as you are, even your neurotic side that is still coming to grips with your budding confidence in putting yourself out there. If you only want me to see you now in ambient light, that’s fine. I can wait until it’s right for you to be bright. But just know that I love you completely, and it’s never been more apparent than it is right now.”

My shoulders sag with relief that he not only understands without me uttering a word, but accepts me as I am.

But more importantly… he loves me?

“Gage,” I whisper, overwhelmed by his words, and there’s not a single piece of me—even that part that’s still terrified and insecure—that doubts him.

“Shh.” He brushes his lips lightly over mine. “Not a word needs to be spoken. Now tell me how you want your eggs.”

“Scrambled.”

He kisses me again and then smacks me on the butt. “Get dressed and come eat.”

When he walks out, he shuts the bedroom door behind him, a clear signal he’s respecting my need for privacy.

Rather than be thrilled over the words he just shared, I drop onto the edge of the mattress, disappointed in myself. I don’t think I let Gage down because I trust him when he says he’ll wait until I’m comfortable, but I feel like I’m letting myself down.

The thing with Keller last night bothered me more than it should. I made a conscious decision to put my hair back… expose more of the scarring along my jaw, although I still wore a turtleneck to cover most of it.