Chapter 29

29

BEN

“I had pregret.” I stroke Mabel’s hair back off her face where she lies on the pillow next to me in the hotel bed. We’re talking about what happened when Julian showed up at the arena looking for her.

“Um… what?” She peers up at me with a puzzled notch between her brows.

I trail my fingers over her cheek. Christ, she’s beautiful. “Pregret. I knew what I was about to do was wrong, but I also knew I was going to do it anyway.”

She chokes on a giggle. “Oh my God. I love that so much.”

I grin.

“I’m glad you didn’t really get in trouble about it,” she says more seriously.

“Me, too.”

I tell her about my subsequent conversations with Coach and Mr. Miller. “Smitty stood up for me. Or maybe it was for you. I had to tell him about Julian. I know I said I wouldn’t but…”

“I understand.” She hitches one shoulder. “We talked on the phone earlier. I was going to tell him at some point. And my parents.”

“He seems to have come around about us being together, though.”

“I knew he would.”

“You did, huh?”

“Of course. You’re a good guy. If my family thought Julian was good for me, they’re going to loooove you.”

“I guess I’ll take that.” I kiss her shoulder.

“Why did you write me a poem?”

“Oh, Jesus.” I close my eyes and flop my head down on the pillow. “I blame the guys for that.”

“They wrote the poem?”

“No, I wrote it. But it was their idea. I asked them how I could show you that I like you. They said I should make you laugh and hold the door for you and give you gifts and write a poem for you.”

She cackles. “Oh my God! Really? They told you to write a poem for me. Ahahaha!”

I open my eyes and grin at her. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I don’t have a lot of experience with that kind of thing.”

“‘I like you a lot, even more than my beard?’” She chortles again.

I rub my beard. “It’s true.”

She manages to control her giggles. “I actually love the poem. Now that I’m not freaking out.”

“‘Just know that I’m awkwardly falling for you.’”

“Yeah.” She holds my gaze. “I love that part the most. I know it’s been fast and I just came out of a horrible relationship but there’s a connection between us. I was mad at you for rejecting me when we were teenagers and I wanted to keep that anger going but I couldn’t because you still fascinated me with your quiet and your introspection and how you don’t say much but when you do it’s something worth listening to.” She lays her hand on my cheek. “I don’t want you to think your introversion is something that needs to be fixed. I love you for it. I love that you talk when you have something important to say. I love how you listen and observe. I love how much you care about your team and your teammates, so much that you’re willing to do hard things for them. And I love that you’ve taught me that being alone is important.”

I smile, my gaze moving over her beautiful face. “Thank you. I love you because you try to understand me. You do understand me. And I think you’re fascinating, too, how your mind works, the things you keep in that brain of yours, and how brave and open you are.” I lean in to kiss her, softly. “That’s why there’s such a strong connection between us – because I feel seen and heard when I’m with you.” I search her eyes. “I don’t always feel seen and heard.”

“Yes. We both know what it’s like to be judged and found wanting. We both value the people in our lives we care about. And you have both feet firmly on the ground and that makes it easier to stay balanced, which I need.”

“I don’t feel judged with you,” I continue. “I feel stronger. Brave enough to be vulnerable. I think being vulnerable is the only way to have a real connection with someone. At first when I realized I’d caught feelings for you, I was afraid to tell you. But I had to do it.”

She nods slowly.

“Same goes for you. Just be yourself – quirky, beautiful, imperfect, fascinating.”

Her eyes shine. “I promise I will always respect your need for privacy and alone time and to not be the center of attention. And I promise I won’t phone you unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

I laugh. “Thank you. I promise I will answer your phone calls when you do. But only yours.”

“That is the nicest thing you could say to me.”

We smile into each other’s eyes.

I’ve always thought I’d be happier if I could just be like everyone else. The world is made for extroverts. I worried that I’d never meet someone I’d feel comfortable enough with to be my real self. That nobody would ever take the time to get to know the real me enough to love me.

But with Mabel, I feel safe to be my true self. I can be weird or quiet or alone. She makes me feel like my thoughts matter. My feelings matter. My voice matters. I have something to offer the world and maybe it’s different – but it still matters.

I kiss her with everything I have, pulling her soft, sweet curves against me, tangling my hair in her hand.

Long, hot moments later, she says breathlessly, “I haven’t told you my best news yet.”

She’s told me all about her visit with her friends and their trip to confront Julian. I’m glad she has friends who have her back. And I’m proud of her for doing that. I hope he got the message loud and clear. “There’s more?”

“I got a job!”

“Oh, hey! Really? Where? Which one?”

She tells me about the job offer and that the written offer will be waiting for her when she gets home.

“That’s fantastic!” Happiness for her bursts in my chest like a cork popping off a bottle of champagne.

“They were happy I didn’t have to give notice to an employer and I can start the week after next,” she says. “And I’ve already been looking into supervisory courses, since I don’t have experience with that.”

“Congratulations. I’m glad it’s a job you wanted.”

“It’ll be great experience. I know I have a lot to learn but I love learning. And I’m going to look at apartments… uh, shit, I have an appointment set up for Saturday. I have to get back.”

“We leave in the morning for Fort Lauderdale.”

She nods. “Right. I should book a flight, too.” She pushes up to sitting and reaches for her phone.

While she finds a flight home, I find the extra key to my condo. When she’s done, I hand it to her.

“What’s this?”

“A key to my condo. I want you to have it.”

“Why?” She takes it slowly and closes her fingers around it like it’s precious. “I know your own space is important to you.”

“It is. But I want you to know you can come into my space any time. And I want you to be there when I get home Sunday night.”

Holding my gaze, she nods. “Okay.” Her smile is luminous. “I will be.”

And she is. She’s home.