Chapter 36 Indie

Chapter 36

Indie

Rolling to my side, I turn into the warm body beside me, the delicious ache that blooms between my thighs a memento from last night. Thankfully, the back-to-back road trips and the late game today allow us to wake up together, instead of him rushing off to the stadium for meetings or practice.

It’s the last morning we will get like this with the end of the season and a playoff berth in reach for the Bandits.

The stiffness settling in my bones tells me it’s late, but my phone is still in the entryway from last night, and it’s worth the pain to soak this up for a few more minutes before I track it down.

Brushing the hair off of Dom’s face I study him. The first time we woke up like this after that infamous car ride home, I did something very similar, but the ending was not nearly as sweet.

There’s a delicious heaviness that’s settled over my limbs that can only come from many orgasms. Rolling slowly to my side, I’m met with warmth in the form of a hard body and that languid feeling turns to a satisfying ache that makes the last twelve hours rush back to me .

I don’t need to open my eyes to know the hot, hard body I’m currently nestled against is Dom Duran. Trouble. Fun trouble, but the kind of trouble I vowed never to allow into my life again.

Yet, from the moment his lips touched mine, being near him felt like coming home. No one has ever pursued me with the dedication that this man has. Not only that, but he spent more time getting to know me physically and emotionally than anyone ever has. There’s something about his personality that puts me at ease and had me spilling all my secrets between mind-numbing orgasms. So many orgasms.

His arms tighten around me and he hums contentedly, his breathing steady as he sleeps soundly behind me. My hand covers his and I sink into the embrace, imagining what it would feel like to wake up feeling this safe, this secure, this cherished everyday. When his hips shift and his impressive erection pokes me from behind, my eyes fly open, landing on the one thing that could pull me out of my idyllic daydream faster than anything else.

His jersey.

Seeing it here, now, after everything we shared last night sends me crashing down to earth, all the pieces of my soul shattering on the ground as the cruel reminder taunts me.

My failure at staying away from him is almost laughable. Or maybe it would be if the truth of being wrapped in his arms in the morning wasn’t twisting itself around my spine, coiling tighter until nothing is left but fear.

I can’t do this.

Panic takes over, each shallow inhale coming too quickly after the last. My stomach flips dangerously in my stomach. I need to move. I need to get away.

Like a coward, I slip out of bed, making a beeline for the fancy coffee machine in his kitchen, already knowing my plan—coffee and flee.

This was a mistake. One that becomes more obvious as I make my way through his magazine-ready house. Everything here is too perfect. It’s all a facade to trick you into thinking you can have it all. Just like with my ex, Jensen.

He was the same. Picture perfect on the outside. I fell for this once before—the boy-next-door with the picturesque life. He made me feel wanted and then he destroyed me when I needed him the most. After one night, I already feel too much for this man. The power he has over me could crush me, and I’m not so sure I would recover from it, because even with everything I’ve been through, part of me still wants this. But the part where the fear lives is louder.

I steady my hand to start the coffee. Each drip from the machine makes me jump as I wait for the Uber I order to arrive. I’m an asshole, sneaking out without saying goodbye, without an explanation.

With my coffee in hand, I watch the time on my screen tick painfully slow. Four more minutes. My head whips to the stairs, where Dom stands stock still on the bottom step, looking rumpled and confused in nothing but a pair of low hanging shorts.

He pushes a hand through his messy hair, his exhale audible. “You’re leaving.” It’s not a question.

“Did you expect me to stay and play house with you?” I cringe internally at the sharpness in my tone. It was my default setting with him before last night, and now it just feels cruel. “This was fun, but I’ve gotta get out of here before Poppy realizes I’m missing.” Not any better idiot.

He crosses the kitchen stopping right in front of me so I have no choice but to face him. “Can’t have that, can we?” His tense words hit the mark. I take one last drink of my coffee, glance at the car arriving on my phone. “Let’s talk for a minute before you run out.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. You knew this was a one night deal.” I give into the part of me that wants to stay for just a moment, his chest warm and firm under my palm.

“The fuck it was. I’ve done one-night, this was more and you know it.” His jaw clicks as his teeth move side to side.

“That’s all it can be. Please don’t make me regret last night. Let me go.” My heart cracks open at my plea.

“Is that really what you want?” His fingers cover mine and I pull back, afraid that I won’t be strong enough to walk away if I don’t.

I hesitate a beat, warring with myself, but when I see hope creeping into his dark eyes, I break us both. “Yes.”

“I’ll give you space for now, but I’m going to prove you wrong someday. You’ll see this isn’t over.” Resolution is written all over his handsome face.

Last time I panicked, running from him, from what I thought he was. He was never a mistake.

Now there’s nothing but easy contentment and so much admiration. And something else too, a feeling deep in my soul that I’m not ready to acknowledge yet. But with every passing day, it makes itself known a little more, building to the point that I know I won’t be able to ignore it much longer.

With one last look, I brush my lips against his forehead and ease out from under the weight of his arm. Shuffling my feet over the hardwood floor I stop, resting my head against the door frame and watch the slow rise and fall of his chest for a minute before I pad down the stairs and into the kitchen.

The reflection of the sun on the stainless steel coffee maker catches my eye, and I pause. “Coffee first,” I say to Ronnie, who tilts her head at me when she looks up from where she’s sleeping on her bed in the living room. “Then I’ll let you out and find my phone.”

With the coffee going, I open the door to the back porch and let Ronnie out, moving on to finding my phone. My purse is sitting on the table by the door to the garage, where I dropped it last night in the middle of a heated kiss with Dom.

Fishing it out, I open it up and move back to the door to check on Ronnie, who’s already waiting to come back inside.

“You can come back in, but don’t go waking your dad up. I think I wore him out last night,” I say, letting her back in. When two bulky arms wrap around me from behind, I almost jump out of my skin.

“I’m already up, Baby. But don’t listen to her, Ronnie. You can wake me up anytime.”

“Are you a damn ninja? Make a little noise and stop eavesdropping on our girl talk. That could have been private,” I tease leaning back into him, the warmth from his bare chest calming my racing heart.

“What are your plans for today?” he asks .

“My proposal for the new volunteer program at the Pride Foundation is due next week. I’m going to work on that. And I have some more grant research to do. Your girl’s gotta start collecting a paycheck soon.”

He hums, and it tickles my ear. I think he’s got more to say, but he stays silent, enjoying the mountain view with me for a moment before he asks, “Is that coffee I smell?”

“It is. Everything okay?” I turn in his arms. This man doesn’t hold back, he says what’s on his mind and I can tell that’s not what’s happening right now.

“Yeah. Fine.”

“You’re lying.”

“I am. And in this case, that’s for the best. It might be keeping me alive.”

“Talk.” I place my hand on his chest. Not pushing away, but just holding them there.

“I really don’t think that’s in our best interest. You’re a lot less stabby with me these days and I like it that way. Me telling you that you make the worst coffee on the planet might end that.”

“But you make your coffee the same.”

He shakes his head. “I make your coffee the same.”

“What?” This feels like a deflection from what was really on his mind, but now I’m intrigued.

“I make coffee like that because it’s the way you like, although I can’t fathom why.” He shudders.

“But you drink it too.” My brows wrinkle. I’ve seen him drink it.

“Do I?” He chuckles, making my blood heat the way only he can.

“Wait, you never drink it, do you?”

“Nope. I dump it as soon as you leave,” he admits.

“Look at that, boy wonder isn’t perfect after all—” My phone rings, cutting me off.

I glance down and see the clinic number flashing on the screen, freezing immediately. All the fun forgotten as terror turns my blood to ice in my veins.

I’m not ready to know. I’m not ready for everything to change .

When I don’t move to answer, Dom takes the phone from me and accepts the call, putting it on speaker. “Hello,” he says. His voice is fuzzy and distant, but I can still hear the pain in it—see it etched in the lines of his face.

“I think I have the wrong number. I’m looking for Indie Moreno,” Dr. Smith says.

“Right number, this is Dom. She’s here with me, but she’s having a little trouble talking right now.” Smoothing his hand over my hair, he squats, so he’s eye level. “Indie, Baby, can you talk to Dr. Smith for me?” His voice cracks as he struggles to keep his composure.

“Maryann, I’m here,” I croak out, my throat dry.

“Indie. I’d like you to come into the office.”

My world collapses in on itself. Dom’s arms band around me keeping me upright as my chest constricts, making it impossible to breathe, to see, to do anything other than fall apart. This is it. The reason I always put off testing. Everything is about to come crashing down around me.

“We’ll be there soon.” His gravelly voice barely registers as he disconnects the phone and takes over.

Somehow he gets me into the car, never leaving my side as he calls Coach Wilson and a few other people. Some of it’s about him and some about me. The one thing I pick up from the calls is that he never calls any of the guys. I hear everything but nothing penetrates the haze of despair that I’m drowning in. Everything is distorted, like I’m underwater as I stare out the window, not focusing on anything as the city passes us by.

When he parks the car in the lot, his hand covers my knee. I feel him squeezing and I know he’s talking, but I still can’t focus. It’s not until he comes around to my side of the car, opening the door, unbuckling me, and putting both hands on my face that the world starts to come back into focus.

“You need to go. You can’t be here,” I say in a blind panic, only now realizing that he needs to get to the stadium.

“I’m not going anywhere, Indie. Coach knows I’m dealing with a personal matter. ”

“But you have a game. You can’t—” Tears stream down my face. This isn’t supposed to be his life. I’m messing it all up.

“Listen to me carefully. There is nowhere else I need to be today but here with you. Understood?”

I nod, but I’m not sure I do. Why would he give up everything he’s worked for his entire life for this mess?

“I need you to look at me.” His thumbs smooth over my cheekbones. “Do you see me?”

“Yeah,” I say, sniffling before I find his amber eyes.

“That’s it, Baby. You’re going to let me be here, right?”

“Please don’t leave me,” I say, collapsing into his chest.

“Never,” he murmurs into my hair.

We stay like that, locked together in the parking lot for a few minutes, until I finally pull back. “I’m ready.”