When I got back to the States, I didn’t rush to Paisley either, not because I didn’t want her, not because she wasn’t on my mind every second of the day, but because I wanted her in all the right ways, on good terms. That’s why I had to get out of my contract with
Rollin’ in The Bacon
, which was surprisingly pretty easy. Thank you, test viewers. In addition to contractually separating myself from Bellini, I had to verbally tell her as well. If you can believe it, it wasn’t the best conversation I’ve ever had.
I was called every insult in the Bellini handbook ranging from an open-mouth carp face, to barnacle breath, to pre-pubescent mer-man. I then had to listen to her pray with Pope Francis about my sins who looked at me with the least judgmental eyes, silently giving me his blessing.
You think it’s stupid that I can tell if a dog is judging me or not, don’t you? Well, have you ever had a dog give you side-eyes? If you have, you know what I’m talking about. Any dog who side-eyes you straight up is judging the fuck out of you. But not Pope Francis, he exudes kindness. Pretty sure he was begging me to free him from the purgatory he is living in. Poor fella.
After I dealt with Satan’s Mistress, I got my affairs in order, talked to my lawyer and started the Children’s Swim camp I’d always wanted to establish. I have little camps here and there, but this was something I wanted to do year around. And thanks to my epic last race, Ashley was able to score me multiple endorsements to help my camp become a reality.
I finally felt like I was in the right frame of mind to devote myself to Paisley. There was only one thing standing in my way.
The door in front of me opens and I’m greeted with a frown.
“She’s not here, dickhead,” Jonathan says as he goes to shut the door.
I palm the wood and stop him from closing it all the way. “I’m here to talk to you.”
A little shocked, he opens the door and says, “Me? What the hell do you want to talk to me about?”
I nod at the living room. “Let me in and then we can discuss it. I would rather not do this in the hallway of your apartment.”
Rolling his eyes, he leaves the door open and goes back to his cold beer on the coffee table in front of his couch. Loving the warm welcome, I step inside, shut his door, and help myself to a beer only to sit on the couch next to him.
Baseball highlights play on the television as we both stare in that direction, not saying a word. Thankfully, my training days are over so I can enjoy the full-strength beer I’m drinking. It feels good not to have to watch every single thing I put in my body, refreshing actually. But don’t get me wrong, I won’t be one of those athletes who “let’s themselves go.” Fuck, no. I plan on keeping a good body for my girl.
“You going to talk?” Jonathan asks after a bout of silence.
“You going to be an ass during this entire conversation?”
“Pretty much.” He sips his beer and keeps his eyes fixed on the TV.
“Fair enough.” I clear my throat. “I came over here because I wanted to tell you that I love Paisley and plan on being in her life as long as she will have me. That being said, I need to patch things up with you because despite how much I hate it, you matter to her, and I don’t ever want her to feel uncomfortable when we’re in the same room. That’s not fair to her.”
“Awfully mighty of you,” Jonathan mutters before drinking from his beer again.
“Just trying to make this situation harmonious.”
Jonathan turns on the couch. His leg is propped up on the cushion and his back rests against the arm of the couch. His stance is relaxed but I can see the tension in his jaw; I can tell this conversation is just as hard on him as it is on me.
“I love her,” Jonathan says, point-blank. “I love that girl and would do just about anything to have her as mine.”
And there it is. The fear I’ve been harboring the minute I found out Jonathan the roommate wasn’t gay. The non-roommate, the schmuck dragged along for the ride, the guy that always loses in the end, that’s the kind of guy I’m feeling right about now with Jonathan staring daggers at me.
Fuck, this better not be one of those endings.
Before I can lay out my cards, he exhales and shakes his head from side to side in defeat. “It’s a shame though that she doesn’t feel the same way.” That perks up my ears. “For some godforsaken reason, she likes you. Imagine that.”
The term “like” doesn’t settle well with me, but I have time to change that, hopefully I have time to do so.
I hold back the brewing sarcastic comment. “I’m sorry to hear that.” I take a sip of beer to hide the smile that crosses my face.
“No, you’re not.” He chuckles. “Fuck, I hate you.”
“Feeling is mutual.” I nod in agreement.
“At least we have one thing in common.”
“That and our love for Paisley.”
Understanding passes over Jonathan as he takes in my words, acknowledging them with a nod. “Too bad for her she’s picking the lesser man. Can’t be mad at a girl forever over her bad taste.”
“Fuck off.” We both laugh but then Jonathan grows serious.
“One wrong move, and she’s mine.” He makes his stance known, and I read it loud and clear. The minute I slip up, he’s swooping in. I can get that. Hell, if I were in his position, I would do the same thing.
“Understood.” Sticking my hand out, I shake his and add, “I respect you for not moving in on her while I was gone.”
“Ha!” He laughs. “Yeah, I’m not that good of a guy. Just got turned down, that’s all.” He gets up from the couch and goes to the fridge. “Another beer?”
I grit my teeth from his confession. “No, but I will take a fucking fist to your face if you’re handing those out.”
“Not so much.”He rounds the couch and looks down at me. “Never claimed to be perfect.”
“Yeah, well, when she comes back in my life, I suggest you learn to stuff your dick in your pants when she’s around, none of this naked shit anymore.”
“Intimidated?” He raises an eyebrow.
I stand up, toe to toe with him. “Not in the slightest.”
We stare each other down, our chests puffed, pure testosterone filling the apartment air just as the front door opens.
A gasp comes from the entryway. Keys fly to the floor and Paisley comes running up between us, pushing us apart.
“What are you doing?” she asks me, shielding Jonathan. From behind, he’s grinning, his eyebrows wiggling at me, a smarmy look on his face from Paisley reprimanding me.
Fuck, I hate him so damn much.
“Paisley, it’s not what you think.”
Why does that sound so incredibly wrong? When you hear that phrase, it’s usually attached to someone being caught in the act of cheating with another person. That is far from the truth in this situation.
She shakes her head. “Whatever, fight if you want. I will be in my room.”
This was not how I wanted my first interaction with her to be. I was kind of hoping more of a passionate embrace, maybe a leap in the air where I would catch her only to have her legs wrap around my waist. I’d carry her off to her bedroom and make love to her until the sun comes up. But instead, I see her retreating backside in black pants and a black Denny’s shirt.
Hell.
“Looks like you have some explaining to do.” Jonathan chuckles under his breath.
“You’re a dick.” I start to walk past him, but he pauses my pursuit with a hand to my chest.
Looking me square in the eyes, he says, “I don’t like you, but I respect you. You’re a man of your word, and I can tell you care about her. For her, I will get along with you, but do not hurt her. Got it?”
“You don’t have to keep reminding me. I have no intention of breaking her heart.” I look past his shoulder and then meet his eyes again. “But I will chop your dick off if I ever see it naked when I’m around. Pack it up, dude, your naked shows are over.”
A smile caresses his lips as he lets me by, giving me my much-needed time with Paisley.
When I walk into her room and shut her door silently, she’s on her bed, her hands wringing on her lap in a nervous twitch. Her silver-colored eyes look up at me, and I’m slayed in half from the vulnerability resting in them.
“Hey,” she says weakly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you,” I say, feeling a little nervous myself. It’s almost awkward, the tension between us. Only a few weeks ago, we couldn’t get enough of each other but the distance between us now is noticeable. Do I go up to her and hug her? Am I allowed to kiss her? Does she even want me to kiss her? After all this time, does she still have feelings for me?
“Listen, Reese . . .” She starts but then pauses, so I continue for her.
“Is there something between you and Jonathan?” Not the way I wanted to start this conversation, but before I lay my heart out on the line, I need to make sure she doesn’t harbor feelings for the man. Before she can answer, I add, “I ask because he told me about the conversation you two had. He told me about his feelings and even though it pains me, if there is any inkling you might want to be with him, I need to know now.”
She stands from the bed and walks over to me, tentatively. Shaking her head, she says, “I don’t have feelings for him, Reese.”
“You sure about that?”
Nodding, she takes one step closer. I can tell she’s nervous. Tears fill her eyes and my heart breaks. Without even a second thought, I pull her into my chest and wrap my arms around her, shielding her from the outside world.
“I’m so sorry,” she cries. “I’m so sorry I left you and messed with your head during your last Olympics. I didn’t have a choice, and I didn’t want your name dragged through the mud. I did what I thought was best, but I feel like I messed everything up.”
“Shh,” I coo in her ear. “You didn’t mess everything up.”
“Yes, I did.” She pulls away so I can see her tear-streaked face. “We haven’t talked in weeks, and you’ve been home for at least two. I get it, Reese, I ruined everything.”
I chuckle. I can’t help it, which causes her cute little nose to scrunch up. “Paisley, if you messed everything up, would I be here in your room, holding you, on the verge of losing my damn mind if my lips aren’t on yours in the next few seconds?”
“What?” Her brow creases, but I don’t answer her. I capture her face with my hands and bring her lips to mine, soaking in the little confused mews coming out of her as my tongue searches for hers.
She opens her mouth as her arms wrap around my waist, pulling me in close, letting our bodies melt together.
Do I want to fuck this woman? Yes. Do I want to make love to this woman? More than anything. But right now, kissing her intimately, not aggressively, just enough pressure to let her know how much I’ve missed her is enough for me. There is something to be said about making out with someone you’re in love with. It isn’t some frantic need that leads to tearing each other’s clothes off. No, this is something different, a connection that goes deeper than any frantic fuck up against a wall.
Wanting to be closer, I move us to her bed where I lay her down gently and then straddle her body, my arms framing her face. I pull away for a second and look down at her, at the contrast of her dark hair to her light eyes and the way her beautiful skin helps them pop in color.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” From my compliment her cheeks blush and in that moment, I can’t contain myself. “I love you, Paisley.”
Her mouth falls open and then turns into a smile. Her hand rubs the scruff on my jaw and she says, “I love you so much, Reese.”
Everything in me bursts with pure joy from those first six little words. Slowly, I lean down and place a soft kiss on her lips, barely a whisper of a connection, but just enough that she knows the kind of emotion I’m feeling. This woman is everything to me.
Needing to get the elephant out of the room so we can move on, I say, “I’m sorry Bellini treated you so terribly. You didn’t deserve that, and you didn’t deserve to be exiled either.”
“I should have talked to Melony. I was just so scared of what Bellini would have done if she found out. She’s kind of stealth.”
I chuckle. “She’s a psychopath. That’s why I got out of my contract with the production company. I couldn’t go on pretend dating her, not when she hurt you like that.”
“I know.” She smiles up at me.
“You know?”
She nods. “Jasper talked to me today. He asked me to be an assistant producer for the show. Plans on paying me well, because apparently, I’m the only one who can handle Bellini and put her in her place. He told me all about your contract.”
“Did he now?”
“He did.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
“I feel like I want to be your girlfriend again.” That damn smile will be the death of me.
“Baby, you never stopped.” Leaning down, I kiss her again and then pull away quickly.
“What’s wrong?” Confusion is clear in her eyes.
“I love you and I’m so proud of you right now, but baby, you have to go take a shower. You smell like one giant slab of bacon and it’s freaking me out when I kiss you.”
“Don’t want to make out with a grease pan?”
“No so much.” I laugh.
“Shower with me?”
The way her eyes light up with lust . . . with love, how can I say no?
“Gladly.”
Without even skipping a beat, she pulls me toward the bathroom, her hand in mine and starts to undress me when we get inside, wasting no time in getting me naked. She does the same, and before I know it, we are waiting for the shower to heat up while she has my back pressed against the cold bathroom door.
“I missed you.” Her voice is quiet, sad almost.
“I missed you too, Paisley.”
Her fingers play with the short hairs of my beard. “I wanted so badly to be there for you when you won gold. It killed me that I wasn’t able to shout for you in the stands, but I watched every moment of it here. I cried . . . a lot.”
Lifting her chin so she’s forced to look me in the eyes, I say, “Knowing you were here, watching me, means everything to me, baby.”
“I’m so proud of you, Reese.”
My hands caress the curve of her hip as I say, “Thank you. It was one hell of a way to end my career.”
“Save the best for last, right?”