CHAPTER 18 JOLENE

My phone starts to ring, and when I see who's calling, I debate sending it to voicemail like he's done to me so many times over the last few days, but I don't. Instead, I pick up right away, if nothing else to silence it since I finally got Jonah to bed.

And the second I got him in bed, I broke down.

I lost my job today, and I haven't had a chance to mourn it. Maybe the strangest part of it all is that even though I lost my job, I still have a job. It's just not the one I want. It's not the one I worked so goddamn hard for. It's not the one I was meant for.

And I don't know what to do about it. I don't know if I want to continue working for a station that simply reassigns people who have committed serious offenses.

"Hi," I say quietly, and it's followed by a soft sniffle that I can't help.

"Shit," he mutters. "I'm on my way over."

He cuts the call before I get a chance to protest. I don't want to face him—not like this. Not when I've been crying for the last hour, not when my eyes are puffy and red.

Sam took an evening shift tonight, so she's not home. It's just me, alone with my glass of wine and two sleeping boys in the room down the hall, so I took full advantage of my isolation by crying into my wine glass.

But now Lincoln is on his way over, and I need to pull myself together.

Except I realize the moment I think it…I don't.

If there's anyone whose arms I want to fall into right now, anyone who I want to catch me when it feels like I'm tumbling down toward the bottom…it's him. The man on his way over right now.

And so when I hear a soft knock at the door and I open it to find him standing there, leaning on the doorframe looking as miserable as I feel…I pull him in and collapse against him.

Immediate warmth spreads through me. The relief I feel as his arms wrap around me is instantaneous. It's real and it's tangible. It's everything I've wanted since I was a teenager and everything I've needed my entire life all wrapped up into one messy package as we cling to one another. My tears start fresh again, and I feel him tremble a little as he holds me.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"Marcus reassigned me," I sob. "He took me off the team."

"Jesus," he mutters, his voice low and filled with emotion. "I'm so sorry. What happened?"

I try to catch a deep breath to calm myself, but the sobs prevent it from happening. He picks me up into his arms and carries me over to the couch, and he sits with me on his lap. He holds me as I cling to him, and I feel an even more profound sense of loss.

I thought we had the whole season ahead of us to steal quiet moments together. Instead, I won't be on the sidelines. I'll be watching like everyone else instead of as the reporter who earned the position.

Eventually the sobs subside, and I draw in the breath I couldn't before.

"Marcus said it's a conflict of interest," I finally manage to tell him.

"It wasn't before," he points out.

"Right. Because before nobody knew, so we didn't have prying eyes judging our every move. And while Marcus believes I would report objectively, he also believes that even the perceived conflict of interest from viewers is enough to reassign me."

"To what?" he asks.

"Beat reporter. Mostly women's sports."

He nods. "Important, but not what you wanted."

"Exactly. It's an honor to cover any sport, but to be named a football team's correspondent as a female was a huge step for me. For women everywhere. And now I'm back to where I'm stereotyped to be."

He's quiet a long time before he asks, "Is it worth it? To lose out on your dream, I mean. For me."

My bottom lip quivers as I think over his question.

Is it worth it?

"I don't know," I say softly.

He looks hurt by my words, and that's when I realize something.

It's everything to me right now, and it hurts right now.

But in the end…it's just a job. Someday I'll retire just as my predecessor did, and what will I have left then?

Love.

Family. Jonah.

People. Relationships.

And, hopefully…Lincoln.

The thought is comforting, and finally the tears start to ease up.

"We can't know because we can't see into the future," I amend. "But what I do know is that if we fight through this thing and come out on the right side of forever, then I'll be able to look back and know it was worth it. And I also know that I'm not losing out on my dreams if I get to be with you."

He nestles his nose along my neck before he drags his lips across the space there, and then his mouth lands on mine.

I sigh softly into him.

I missed this.

But I also know that I'm not the only one going through some things. I pull back.

"What happened with Asher?" I ask softly.

He sighs and lifts me off his lap, setting me beside him before he gets up to pace around the room a little. "After I stormed out of here, I called him and told him he needed to come clean or I'd do it for him."

I'm surprised by that, but I school my features not to let it show.

Maybe I shouldn't feel surprised considering I knew all along he'd do the right thing, but I am.

"He wasn't real thrilled with me, but he shocked the hell out of me by coming to my office the next morning and telling me he was ready to confess all to Jack. He did, and Jack reported it, and the league came back with his punishment this morning. I feel like I've been to hell and back today, and my little brother is suspended for this entire season, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"God, Lincoln. That must be so hard on you," I murmur. I shake my head. "I know it's unrelated, but it just feels like everyone we hold dear is getting caught in the crosshairs of all this."

His brows dip. "Yeah."

"Everything is falling apart on the same day." I shrug. "You know? Jonah's getting teased at school, Cade's getting teased, Sam is working late hours to avoid me, I think. Your brother is out for a year, you're dealing with the media for that compounded with what happened with us, I lost my position…" I trail off, and there's a certain look in his eyes that makes me think that's not all, but he's also not jumping at the chance to expand. I toss his own question back at him. "Is it worth it to you?"

He sighs, and it's deep and frustrated and forceful. "Sometimes I feel like if we have to keep asking the question, the answer is right in front of us. Other times I'm convinced that nothing has been more worth it to me in my entire existence, that I'd give up everything if it meant I got to have another second with you." He walks over toward me and pulls me up from where I'm sitting on the couch. He clings onto me, and my face is against his chest when I hear his voice rumble quietly above me. "I got into a fight with my dad tonight. I punched him in the jaw and kicked him out of my house and then I called you and came over here."

I pull back, surprised at his confession. "What?"

He nods. "I don't want to talk about it right now. But I choose you, Jolene. I wish I could go back in time and choose you two decades ago, but I didn't know I had that option. I'm a better man now, though. At least I hope I am. He's forcing me to choose sides, and I choose you."

Fresh tears pinch behind my eyes at his words.

I don't need him to talk more about it.

I choose him back, and now it's time to show him that.

I take his hand in mine and tug him toward my bedroom. I lock the door just in case even though the boys rarely come out of their room after they fall asleep, and then I slowly strip out of my clothes.

Once I'm naked, I pull his shirt over his head, and then I unbuckle his belt and pull his pants and boxers off with his help.

I push him back onto my bed before I lean up over him. He sits up and grabs my face between his palms, and he kisses me as if he's sealing in the words he spoke earlier—as if he's showing me through this kiss how much he loves and adores me. And then he lies back, and pulls me up on top of him, lining his cock up with my pussy as I lower down onto him.

We both moan softly at the feel of being back together this way, as if we both needed this connection again, this intimacy to seal the fact that we're choosing each other. He raises and lowers me on top of his dick while my palms find his chest for balance. I grind against him as we find a slow rhythm together, and he pulls me down to kiss me, changing the angle of his cock and causing me to moan with need.

The ache is building as we show each other with our bodies how we really feel, and then all of the sudden he flips me over so he's on top. He's gentle as he rocks into me over and over, pushing on the place where the ache throbs the hardest, and my body starts to tighten up everywhere as the need to come pulses within me. I open my eyes and find his on me as he watches me, and I lift my lips to his. He kisses me a little more roughly as his need to let go starts to wash over him, and he grapples for my breast, finding my nipple between his thumb and the side of his forefinger.

All the sensations are too many at once, his kiss, the way he's making love to me, the feel of my nipple in his fingertips.

"Come for me," he murmurs. "I'm going to come, and I want you to come with me."

His words are so hot and laden with promise that my body is pushed right into my climax. He stiffens and lets out a growl as he comes, too, his hot jets of come filling me as my body throbs its way through the pleasure only he can seem to give to me.

By the time the pleasure passes through us, we're both panting, worn out and sated as we try to catch our breath. My body is numb and so is my mind, and even though we've certainly been through the ringer today, we ended up on the other side of it. Together.

And that's all that matters.