by Piper Rayne
I sigh. “You’re asking a lot of me.”
I admire the water shooting, the colors, again trying not to feel the pull to Dean.
“What else do I have to do to prove to you before you’ll give us an honest chance?” he asks.
“I’ve let you take me out twice, you’ve kissed me, and if I make good on the bet, you get to feel me up tonight.” I turn his way and a smile graces his lips.
Of course, it does. What guy doesn’t want to feel up a pair of titties?
“I’m not doing that unless you want me to. You do want me to though, right?” he chuckles, his arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me close. “I know you feel it.” He brushes a stray hair off my cheek and tucks it behind my ear. “When are you going to start being honest with yourself?”
Question of the century.
Can’t people want someone but never act on it if they know it’s bad for them?
“I can’t deny it, Dean. That’s not my hesitation.”
For some reason, rather than stepping away, I move closer, needing to feel him. Needing to let him shelter me and loving the safety of his arms.
“I’m afraid.” I rest my chin on his chest, staring up at him. “I won’t make it through another heartbreak from you.” A single tear slips from my eye. “You didn’t see me after.”
“And you didn’t see me.” He wipes the tear with his thumb before it falls down my cheek. “I might’ve been the cause of our divorce, but it was no easier on me. It took me a long time to get my shit together, but I did. I’m an impatient man. I waited a long time to come for you, but I’m here, and I’ll wait until you’re ready, Chelsea. Just tell me I’m on the right path. Tell me I’m winning this battle and I’ll continue to fight to win the war.”
I stare into his chocolate eyes, and without thinking nearly enough about my decision, I let my heart speak for me.
Stretching up on my tiptoes, I place my hands on his shoulders to steady myself and press my lips to his. Warmth spreads through my body and I fall back down to my heels. “You’re winning.”
His hand slowly moves to my neck and he pulls me into his chest, one arm tight around my waist, the other one cupping the back of my head.
“Here.” He lets me go and digs into his pocket, retrieving two pennies. He places one in my palm. “Make a wish.”
I take it from his hand, walking the distance to the edge of the fountain. Closing my eyes, I wish for something I’ve wished for before at a fountain located a thousand miles away on the Vegas Strip. This time I hope whoever grants fountain wishes hears me.
Dean kisses his penny and tosses it in.
“What did you wish for?” I ask.
“I’m hoping the same thing you did.” He takes my hand in his again. “Now I want you to fill me in on everything I missed over the past five years.” He guides me down the path farther into Grant Park.
I chuckle. “In a nutshell, I got my degree and had a string of jobs until I landed this one.”
“Come on. I want all the details. I want it to be like I missed no time in your life.”
“Well, I walked out of our apartment and sat in my car for an hour…”
He frowns for a second and then says, “Let’s skip to a few months after you left me.” There’s no anger in his voice, just a calm acceptance.
“I transferred to the city.”
For the next hour, I tell him about going to school in the city versus the country town where we met. We discuss the reason I couldn’t seem to find a job I liked, about how I ended up at RISE. My parents, Skylar and Beckett, Zoe and Vin. Lastly, he admits he saw Mikey at a club three years ago. When he asked about me, Mikey punched him in the face.
“He did not!” I cover my mouth with my hand, aghast as we approach his bike.
“I told him I missed you and wanted your number.” He hands me the helmet.
“I guess he didn’t like that?” I strap it on.
“I had to tell my boss I got elbowed in a basketball game.”
“Why did you wait so long? You could have looked me up.”
“It wasn’t the right time, I’m glad Mikey knew that.” He puts on his own helmet. “How about a ride for old time’s sake?”
I smile. “Thought you’d never ask.”
“The sun’s heading down pretty fast, so just a quick one up Lake Shore and then back to your place.”
I nod, climbing on the bike ready to assume my koala bear position. “Dean?”
“Yeah?” He waits to start the bike.
“Go to your place after the ride.”
He doesn’t turn around, but he places his hands over mine where they rest around his stomach.
“Are you sure?”
My arms tighten around him and I nuzzle my head. “I’m positive.”
“You sure you still want the ride?”
I giggle. “A romantic ride down the lakefront sounds like great foreplay.”
“Screw the bike, I’ve got other foreplay moves.”
He turns the ignition, the bike roaring to life. Doing a u-turn, we head the other way.
I take one giant step to the edge of the cliff praying it’s deep water below and not just a bunch of jagged rocks.
Forty-five minutes later, the sun has slipped beneath the horizon. When I come out of my dazed state, we’re pulling into a garage. He parks the bike and for once, Dean says nothing, leading me to the elevator, and pressing the button.
My hand is in his and my body is hyper-aware of our proximity, my thoughts focused on what we’re about to do.
He presses floor nineteen and we ride up in silence. Is this weighing on both of us? We’re about to make a decision that we can’t take back.
The doors slide open, and he holds his hand out in front of him for me to step out first. Then his hand is tucked around mine again. My heart pounds as we bypass door after door until we reach the one at the end of the hall. Apartment nineteen twenty-one.
Dean lives in apartment nineteen twenty-one.
There’s something weird about not knowing where he lived until this moment. I can’t help but wonder what’s on the other side of the door.
I lived with Dean for four short months. I knew his bad habits of toothpaste all over the sink, of leaving empty shampoo bottles in the shower, not rinsing dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. I knew what he smelled like in the morning, or how he couldn’t sleep without his hand on my ass.
Now, I know nothing. For a man I thought I knew everything about, I’m just now realizing I no longer know anything about the man beside me.
“You don’t have to,” he says, noticing my eyes fixated on the door.
“I want to.” I glance over to him.
A soft smile wraps around his face. He’s happy I want to take this next step.
“Welcome to your future home.” He pushes and holds the door open for me.
I smack his stomach and try to tamp down my expectations as I walk over the threshold.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I bend down to the floor. “Are you trying to bribe me?”
Chapter Sixteen
“Meet Grover,” Dean says from behind me, shutting the door. “I have to take him out real quick.” He scrambles to a table by the front door and grabs a long black leash.
The dog rolls over on his back, letting me pet him, but when Dean clicks the leash, he’s up and panting with his tail swinging back and forth.
“I never thought my dog would cockblock me. Don’t leave, okay?”
I chuckle. “I’ll go with you.”
“Really?” Dean seems shocked and I don’t understand why, I’m a dog person.
“I guess I could stay here and snoop.”
“Come on, it’s a great night for a walk.” He swings his arm around my shoulders pretending like he wouldn’t want me here without him.
Truth is I do pry, it’s in my nature, and I don’t want to do that to Dean.
We leave the apartment and head to the elevators
. “What kind of dog is Grover?”
“Bulldog.”
“He looks like he might be a drooler. Does he shed?”
Dean chuckles. “Wondering how you’ll clean up after him already?”
“You’re way too hopeful.”
“Optimistic. There’s a difference.”
The elevator dings and the doors open. We file in, Grover panting a musical melody as the elevator descends.
I look down at the drool dripping from his tongue and watch a long strand of saliva stretch to the floor.
Please don’t shake. Please don’t move.
Like he heard the worries running through my head, his head twists and he stares up at me with intrigued eyes. The long gross strip of drool drips and lands on the carpet.
“Is there something wrong with Labradors or golden retrievers? Or how about a small poodle?”
The elevator doors open, and we step into a large foyer decorated with brass and marble. “A doorman? Fancy.”
“Well, I am an attorney after all.” He straightens his back like it’s a big deal, but I know it’s an act.
When I walked out on him five years ago, he was passed out on a mattress that had no frame or box spring. Our eatery set included paper plates and not the name brand ones. The ones where you grab ten plates instead of just one because it’s near impossible to peel one away from the other. No metal silverware or glass cups. It wasn’t exactly like we were eating steak and needed a heavy-duty knife anyway. We were college students and the only thing we had between us was love—but that hadn’t proved to be enough.
Now he lives in a condo with a man who opens doors for him. The foyer here is bigger than our apartment back then. I shouldn’t be so surprised. He sacrificed every part of his life for baseball, including me. Why would he not do the same for whatever he wanted after his dream to go to the big leagues was over?
A thought flashes through my brain like a light bulb that was just turned on and I realize that he’s going to use that same drive to get me. Which means, I’m in way over my head.
“Clark, this is Chelsea. Chelsea this is Clark.”
A tall man stands from behind the desk. “Nice to meet you, Miss…”
“Walsh, but please call me—”
“Good evening Miss Walsh. What a great night for a walk.” He rounds the desk, staring down at Grover. “What’s the word, Grover? Looks like you got some company tonight.” He flashes Dean a smile.
“Hopefully he can stay on his best behavior and not scare her away,” Dean jokes, walking to the door.
Clark walks a little faster.
“I got it, Clark.” Dean opens the door, but Clark takes it from his hold.
“Don’t go putting me out of a job.” He smiles as we walk through the door.
“Thank you,” I say.
Clark nods. “My pleasure. Have a good walk, Grover.”
The door shuts and the three of us fall in line. Grover seems pretty well trained on a leash, or it’s taking enough energy to get his four legs to hold up his chubby little body.
“There’s a dog park up here a little ways. He’ll do his business and then we’ll head upstairs. Grover doesn’t care for much exercise.”
“Sure thing.”
We walk along the street, Dean positioning Grover’s leash in his left hand, enabling him to be in the middle now. His right hand seeks out mine and goose bumps run up my arm when our fingers entwine. I’ve grown used to this stage of our affection and although my body craves more—we never had this type of loving affection before.
“What do you think went wrong?” I ask under the dark sky with scattered stars you can barely see between high-rises on either side.
“Me. I’m what went wrong.”
“No, it takes two. I didn’t exactly fight for us.”
“Chels.” He stops in the middle of the sidewalk. Grover panting next to him like we just ran the Chicago marathon. “You did the right thing.”
My gaze diverts to a couple walking hand in hand, laughing as they pass us by. The man nods and the woman smiles our way. We politely do the same.
Fear that I’ll never have that pricks my chest. Dean and I always seem to be so hot we burn out or so cold we get stuck in the same spot. We can never seem to find that happy middle ground.
“Sometimes I think that if I would’ve—”
“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t second guess one thing.” We reach a black iron rod fence and Dean opens up the gate to the dog park and we step through, shutting it behind us.
“Good evening,” Dean says to a woman in her fifties with a small poodle.
She smiles down at Grover and then up to us. “Great night.”
“A perfect spring night. Summer is coming,” I say.
Dean leads us to a white stone wall and sits down, unhooking Grover. He waddles around, sniffing the trees and grass. His hand finds mine again, but this time he puts our entwined hands in his lap. “I know we have so much shit from the past to deal with, but I wish we could leave it back there and start fresh.”
“In a perfect world we could,” I say.
His gaze stays on Grover who walks as slowly as my grandma Rita.
“Do you think you’ll ever forgive me?”
This man next to me isn’t the Dean I knew. He’s not the man I married years ago. That man would’ve assumed I’d forgive him with a flippant apology.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I’m hesitant, Dean. I might’ve been the one who walked out, but I broke my own heart before you had a chance to finish the job.”
His head turns in my direction, his eyes transparent and showing me how much my words cut him just now.
“I didn’t say it to upset you.”
His head is already shaking before I can finish. “I know.”
“I’m terrified you’ll break me, but you were right.”
“I was right?” An uptick in his tone pulls a smile from me.
“Well, rare occurrences do happen every so often.” I knock his shoulder with mine. “This pull to you is just as magnetic as it was when I was eighteen. I’m not naïve enough to believe in fate, but I can’t deny this.”
His hand leaves mine and he swivels his body to face me. Everything slows. I don’t think about the fact we’re in public or the lady on the park bench. It’s just me and Dean as his hand lifts and cradles my face. The love overflowing from his eyes as his lips descend toward mine has me choking back emotion.
There’s no rush to his affection. In fact, some might think it’s our first kiss with the gentle way his lips land on mine. His tongue licks the seam of my lips and I part them for him. We kiss under the dark sky of Chicago with the quiet ripple of waves from the lake only steps away and chaotic nightlife of a big city in the other direction. Somehow, we find our happy medium and enjoy our kiss like a slow dance that could go on forever.
Grover’s front paws land on my legs and I pull back. Dean takes his time pulling away, his large palm lingering on my face. “I’m going to have to have a conversation with him.”
I smile down at a panting Grover who just wants some affection for himself, and then I lay my head on Dean’s shoulder.
“I’m not sure we’ve ever done anything like this,” I say, a quiet satisfaction in my voice.
His hand grips my knee. “I think we’re getting old.”
Grover lays down at our feet after I pet him briefly.
“I like it,” I say.
“I like anytime you’re near me.”
A new rush of flutters ignites in my stomach. I love the magnetism between Dean and I when we can’t get enough, but I love this, too.
“I’m not going to sleep with you tonight.”
He chuckles. “Okay.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to because my body is literally begging for me to strip you every time you enter a room.” He chuckles again. “But I still want to spend the night with you.”
“Okay.”
I lift my head and
wrap my arms around his neck. “You’re so accommodating.” My lips press to his cheek and right away, Grover’s paws land on Dean’s knees.
“I have no complaints. I’ve already gotten so much more than I’ve deserved from you. I could care less…well…I can’t lie. I want inside of you as bad as I did that time you borrowed my teammate’s catcher equipment and wore nothing else underneath, but what I’m trying to say is, I’m good with this, too.”
I chuckle at our shared memory. I was so sexually uninhibited with this man.
Dean leans forward and clicks the leash on Grover’s collar then stands, holding his hand out for me. We make our way back to his condo. When we near his building, I’m still surprised that he lives somewhere so nice. Don’t get me wrong, after we married, we talked a lot about the money he’d be getting paid if he went pro. The nice things we’d buy. That we’d be able to have nannies, so I could come to every game and travel with the team. Pipe dreams of poor kids. Now that I’m older and smarter, I don’t think I’d be following my husband around from town to town.
Clark rises from the desk when we walk in the condo building’s foyer.
“How was the walk Grover?” he asks, staring down at the dog whose tongue is hanging out of his mouth and seems in desperate need to lay down.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Dean remarks, pressing the elevator button.
“Having a beautiful woman at your side helps.” Clark nods his head at me and I’m sure I must be blushing.
“You’re right about that,” Dean says, his hand seeking mine. “It’s amazing how much things change when you have that.”
Clark smiles and the elevator doors open. “Have a good night,” he says.
“Good night, Clark.” We each wave and the doors close.
“I still can’t believe you have a doorman.”
“Half the city has one.”
I shake my head. He’s crazy.
“I’d ask you to move in, but I’m not going to ruin the night.”
“Do you ever stop pushing?” I ask.
“No.”
“Fair enough.” I shrug.
The elevator doors open, and we end up at his condo door moments later.