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Or maybe, given how quickly our feelings are growing, it’s not really all that far into the future.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” I say a little helplessly. It’s not like me to respond that way. I’m a planner by trade, and I’m a planner in life. My backup plans have backup plans.
But sometimes in life we need to act off the cuff, and this feels like one of those times.
“I don’t know if that’s good enough.” He twists his lips nearly apologetically, and I’m grateful for the near darkness in here since heat presses behind my eyes at his words.
But the truth is that I don’t know if that’s good enough, either.
I don’t want to hide what I have with him. I don’t want to leave in the middle of the night when I’m visiting my parents so they don’t suspect anything. I don’t want to act like a teenager when I’m an adult developing real feelings for somebody.
And yet I also get where he’s coming from. His career is his life, and I’m not here to take away from that. If anything, I want to do whatever I can to support that.
I stand up and walk around the table, and I settle onto his lap. I loop my arms around his neck, and I lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips as his arms come up around my waist.
He pulls back and leans his forehead to mine, his eyes closed as he draws in a deep breath.
“I can’t stay away from you,” he whispers.
“Then don’t,” I say softly, and he catches my lips with his again. We kiss slowly, languidly, tenderly there for a few minutes as we both try to process what’s happening here between us.
And it’s as he’s kissing me in this hotel room that I think I make my decision about where my future is leading me.
Chapter 30: Asher Nash
I Don’t Want to Go
We finish our snacks, and I head over to the bed, sated and full. I lay down and motion for her to come join me, and I wrap my arms around her as she rests her head on my chest.
“Tell me you’re staying the night,” I demand.
“You know I can’t. If we’re trying to keep this a secret, there will be far too many questions coming from my parents since I’m staying with them.” She sighs as she draws little circles on my chest.
“They’re overprotective,” I say softly.
“My dad is, yes,” she admits.
“Why?”
She glances up at me, pulling back a little. “Well, for one thing, a player on his team once broke my heart. And for another, he’s told me I deserve more than a football player who travels half the season, whose life is dedicated to football instead of to me…” She shrugs as she trails off.
“Who was the player? I’ll kill him.” She chuckles, and before she answers, I add, “Plenty of guys make it work. Look at all three of my brothers. Two are married and still involved in the game, one is retired. But all three shifted their focus to the women in their lives when the right one came along.” I’m staring at the ceiling as I speak from the heart, something I’m not sure I’ve ever really done before with a woman.
“That’s what I’ve told him—or tried to. But I think he was the bad boy football player my mom’s parents never approved of, and maybe my mom was more forgiving than she should’ve been.” She’s conjecturing, and I need to clarify something.
I clear my throat. “Not every football player is a cheater, Des—certainly not the Nash brothers, anyway. Our mom raised us with values and ethics, though the same can’t be said for my father, who tends to be the crux of most of my issues.”
“Is he a cheater? Is that why they got divorced?” she asks. She slaps her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. That might be overstepping.”
I shake my head. “Not at all. I don’t know if he cheated on her, but I think there were a lot of layers involved in their divorce, not the least of which involved the way our dad treated the four of his kids our entire lives. I think my mom might’ve stayed for the four of us, stayed out of complacency, stayed because she was comfortable. Probably a million different reasons. But it’s over now, and having parents get divorced even when you’re an adult can still have effects the kids never saw coming.”
“Like what?” she asks.
“Just the whole idea of commitment. It fucked with all four of us, I think. None of us even thought about a future with a woman until our parents got divorced. It was like my dad brainwashed us into focusing totally on football and not our personal lives, and it’s why Linc was thirty-six before he got married.” I try to deflect a little, opting not to talk about how it made me fear commitment in general.
“What’s your relationship like with your dad?” she asks.
I stare up at the ceiling some more. “Complicated.”
