It’s around twenty minutes before I hear the handle on the door turning, and my pulse pounds with the same excitement I used to feel at the start of a game.
It’s not Erin, though. More than a dozen people stream into the room, all with Matias’s dark hair and warm brown eyes. They’re all speaking Spanish, and I don’t understand a single word they’re saying until a woman cries out my name.
Suddenly, they’re all lining up to hug me and shake my hand. Their voices are animated and emotional, and I don’t have to speak their language to know they’re thanking me for helping Matias.
An older woman with gray hair pulled back in a tight bun cups my cheek and looks into my eyes, saying soft Spanish words to me that I wish I understood. Someone gestures at a chair and says, “Rosa,” encouraging her to sit down.
“Grandma Rosa?” I ask, arching my brows. I remember that name.
She nods happily and keeps patting my cheek.
“Matias…tamales,” I say, gesturing at my mouth with my hand and then rubbing my stomach.
“Ah!” Several people cry out and talk animatedly.
A man who looks a few years older than Matias walks into the room and comes over to me.
“Hi, I’m Diego, one of Matias’s brothers,” he says. “Sorry, it took me a while to find a parking spot or I would’ve been here sooner to translate.”
“Hey, I’m Derek.” I shake his hand heartily. “And don’t worry about it. We’re having a great time.”
His expression turns serious. “We can’t ever thank you enough for what you’ve done for our family.”
“It’s my pleasure.” I clap him on the shoulder.
He shakes his head. “I don’t think you understand…your agent…he hired an immigration attorney for us. He had a new washer and dryer sent to my parents, which they’ve never had. And Matias getting this transplant… We’re the kind of people who pay our way, but this is all stuff we can never repay.”
“I don’t want any repayment, ever. Matias talked about his family a lot down there, and how close you guys have always been. And I don’t have a lot of family myself, so if there’s anything I can do for him or any of you, consider it done. Matias is family to me now, and you guys are too.”
Diego nods, his eyes welling with emotion. “He’s always been a great kid.”
I see a flash of blond hair, and I say, “Excuse me, I think I see someone I’ve been waiting for.”
The closer I get to her, the harder my pulse pounds. She’s getting mobbed with hugs from Matias’s family, smiling as they squeeze her and say things she obviously doesn’t understand any better than I did.
Holy shit, she’s beautiful. It’s the first time I’ve seen her wearing anything but the red tank top and jean shorts she had on in the bunker, and I liked that outfit enough to take it off time and time again, but now…
She’s wearing dark skinny jeans and a gray T-shirt with three-quarter-length sleeves that has my team logo on it. Seeing her in it makes me a little dizzy with wanting. Her hair falls over her shoulders in golden waves, and she has a little makeup on.
That’s my girl.
It keeps running through my head as she finally turns her attention to me. Erin is the woman I never expected to find and never plan to let go.
We move toward each other at the same time, both of us running until we meet in the middle, and I sweep her up into a mighty embrace that takes her feet off the floor.
She smells like heaven—a light, slightly floral scent I’ll never be able to get enough of. I bury my face in her soft hair and breathe her in.
“You shaved,” she whispers in my ear.
When she kisses my bare cheek, my pants immediately fit a little tighter in the crotch. I’d pay an obscene amount of money for a private room with a bed right now.
Matias’s family is tittering and awwing at our display of affection. Erin laughs as I kiss her softly and then set her feet back on the ground.
Grandma Rosa walks over to us and cups Erin’s cheek the same way she did mine.
“Babe, this is Grandma Rosa,” I say. “The one who makes the great tamales.”
Erin lights up and hugs her. Even though it would be nice to have her alone right now, it feels right to share this time with Matias’s family. They’re a warm bunch. For now, just having Erin back in my sight again is enough.
When Erin walks into the suite I booked us at the boutique hotel, she sighs happily when she sees the mountain view.
“It’s perfect.” She turns to look at me with a joyous grin.
“Best view I’ve ever seen.” My gaze is entirely on her.
Matias’s transplant went well. We got to see him briefly afterward, which made all three of us emotional. He was prepared to die in the bunker, and I think he’s still shocked to have made it. But also, grateful.
I walk up behind Erin as she’s watching the sunset out the wall of windows. Our suite is on the hotel’s top floor, where we can see the amazing views, but no one can see in.
“I missed this,” Erin says as I wrap my arms around her, sliding my hand beneath her shirt and across her stomach.
She tips her head back to rest against my shoulder.
“We can stay here as long as you want.” I kiss her temple and then move down to her jawline.
A sound in the distance jolts me back to reality. Helicopter blades.
“We need to close the curtains,” I say quickly.
Erin helps me darken the room by drawing the long curtains across the wall closed.
“What’s that about?” she asks.
“News helicopters.”
“Oh, nice. The photos they got of us leaving the hospital weren’t enough?”
I laugh humorlessly. “Not even close.”
“Sounds like an even better reason to hole up here.”
I pull her back into my arms. “What will we do with ourselves, though? No chessboard in sight.”
When she gives me a knowing smile, I’m a goner. I pull her shirt off over her head, needing to feel her soft, warm skin as I kiss her. She tugs on my clothes in return, and we somehow manage to get over to the bed while undressing each other.
I reach down to my discarded jeans and pull a roll of condoms from the pocket. The roll drops open, revealing a strip of seven condoms.
“Wow.” Erin arches her brows. “Someone’s feeling pretty confident.”
“It’s not confidence,” I admit. “It’s…you.”
“Oh, Derek.”
Every time she says those words, I’m instantly rock hard, and this time’s no exception. I love the way she looks down at my cock and then licks her lips.
I want to go slow and worship her the way I’ve been fantasizing about for months. But when she wraps her hand around my thick cock, her eyes hooded and sexy, I lose it.
We’re all hands and mouths, moans and groans as we tumble to the bed together. We already know each other’s bodies so well, but there’s a charge of excitement in the air over this being our first time having full-on sex.
Erin wraps her legs around me, and I groan deeply, unable to wait another second. I tear open a condom, roll it on, and bury myself deep inside her.
“Oh my God,” she cries. “More.”
The desperation in her tone drives me, and I thrust myself all the way in, bringing a cry of pleasure from her throat.
“Fuck, babe.” I bury my face against her neck and throat. “You feel amazing.”
Erin’s not a passive partner—she’s grinding against me, her strong legs wrapped around my midsection as we fuck with all the pent-up desire of the past few months.
She comes first—hard and long. I love the way she tells me not to stop, but it’s all I can do to hold on.
When I finally let myself come, it’s like a fucking freight train. I groan as the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had passes through me like an electrical current.
“Fuck,” I gasp.
“Yeah.” Erin is breathless as I roll off h
er, and she looks over at me and smiles. “So, that’s what we’ve been missing.”
“Lots of making up to do.”
“Ready when you are,” she says sweetly.
“Give me a minute.” I put the back of my hand over my forehead and look over at her. “And then it’s on.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Erin
Derek eagerly digs into his second helping of Aunt Carrie’s chicken pot pie.
“This is the best meal I’ve had in a very long time,” he says, smiling at her.
She waves a hand like it’s nothing, but I see her blushing.
After staying five nights at the hotel, I brought him home with me. We’ve started letting photographers take a few photos of us—at dinner one evening at the hotel’s restaurant, and when we come and go visiting Matias. Derek told me it’s easier to give them a little something, because they’ll leave if we do.
The number of vans following us has definitely lessened. Derek agreed to give ESPN an exclusive interview next week, and he said it’ll decrease even more once that comes out.
“So, will you be playing football again?” Uncle Cal asks.
It’s the one thing we haven’t discussed yet. Derek and I got here early this afternoon, and my uncle took him on a tour of the farm, which took several hours. We talked a lot about our time in the bunker, but no one has brought up any questions about the future.
I’m almost afraid to hear Derek’s answer to the football one.
“I should be able to start next season,” he says. “I don’t think I’ll be physically ready by the end of this season.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to dive right back in?” my aunt asks. “Is it like riding a bike?”
“Pretty much.” Derek nods. “I’ve been a quarterback since I was a teenager. Everything but the physical part is second nature to me.”
“You have to be cool under pressure to be a quarterback,” my cousin Matt says, clearly awed that Derek Heaton is sitting at the farmhouse’s kitchen table. “If you had to get stuck in the bunker with anyone, Erin, might as well be him, right?”
Derek takes my hand beneath the table, and I smile.
“Actually,” he says, “Erin was the coolest of us all. She’s the most level-headed person I’ve ever known, but she’s also compassionate.”
“You are too,” I say, feeling myself blushing at his compliments.
“Not like you.” He looks right into my eyes. “There’s no one else like you.”
I bask in his words for a second before nudging him. “Eat before your dinner gets cold.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Derek winks at me and returns to his chicken pot pie.
My uncle and cousins start talking football with Derek, and I’m immediately out of my element. I help Aunt Carrie clear dishes and get the apple cobbler she made for dessert.
“I like him,” she whispers in a conspiratorial tone as she takes out dishes for dessert.
“Me too.”
“He’s so handsome, Erin. And he’s crazy about you.”
I warm from head to toe.
“I don’t know what the future will hold for us, but for now, I’m trying to just enjoy it.”
My aunt furrows her brow. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t you have a future with him?”
I shrug. “He’s based in New York with his team. His lodge was just an off-season place. And I don’t think I can fly to spend time with him.”
Aunt Carrie gives me a knowing look. “Ah. And you don’t want him to know about the extent of your claustrophobia.”
“Oh, he knows. He saw it in the bunker, and I’ve told him the rest. He knows about my mom and everything.”
Her lips part incredulously. “Well then, what are you worried about? He wouldn’t be here right now if he weren’t serious about you.”
“Yeah, but…real life is different than life was down there. I want to be an optimist and hope for the best, but…”
“That’s always been hard for you,” Aunt Carrie says softly. “And I can understand why.”
“Derek is famous. I’m not sure I’m meant for a high-profile life.”
“So…he accepts you exactly as you are, and you’re not sure you can do the same for him?”
“It’s not like that.”
Aunt Carrie scoops ground coffee into a filter. “What’s it like, then?”
I try to come up with an answer, but I’ve got nothing.
“Give him a fair chance, Erin. He deserves that. And you deserve it too.”
I look down at the floor, admitting the hard truth. “I’m terrified he’ll leave me.”
“You’ve got so much to give this world. But you can’t do it unless you open yourself up.”
The swinging doors into the kitchen are pushed open, and Derek steps into the room and looks at me.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Can you carry this out?” Aunt Carrie passes him the apple cobbler.
“Oh wow.” His eyes widen. “That smells amazing.”
Aunt Carrie hands me the ice cream and a stack of dishes.
“I’ll be out soon with coffee,” she says.
When we’ve finished dessert, Derek and I put on coats and hats to walk to my place, which is on the property but away from the main house. I’ve always loved the farm at night, when everything is shrouded in darkness and it’s quiet.
“Your family’s great,” he says as we pass the dormant Morrison Farms garden plots.
“Thanks. I can tell they liked you.”
When he looks over at me, I can see the outline of his skeptical expression in the moonlight.
“What’s wrong, Erin?”
I sigh softly and look out at the nearly invisible horizon. “Just…it feels too picture-perfect, I guess. The hugs and apple cobbler and my family looking at me like they’re thrilled I’ve finally brought someone home because it means maybe I’m going to have a normal life, after all.”
“You’re not abnormal. All of us have shit going on that no one knows about.”
I wrap my arms around myself. “What shit do you have going on?”
He blows out a breath. “Besides spending the past decade working myself into the ground to make my mom sorry she abandoned me? Let’s see…there’s also a constant dialogue in my head about whether I can ever get back to the top of the game again and whether I even want to.”
“Whether you want to?” Now it’s my brows lowered in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“When we were down in the bunker, I didn’t regret anything about football. I’ve done it all…maybe at the cost of everything else.”
“This is the way to my place,” I say, turning toward a winding gravel path. “Do you think maybe that’s your inner critic talking, making you not want it because you’re not sure you can get back to where you were physically?”
A small smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “I can definitely get back there, no doubt in my mind. I think your inner critic doesn’t want to think I really want more, because what if I change my mind?”
It’s all I can do to hold back an eye roll. “You’re not supposed to know me this well.”
“Too late.”
The leaves on the ground still fill the air with a sweet smell, none of them dried and crunchy just yet. But soon they’ll dry, and then snow will fall and Uncle Cal will get his sleigh out of one of the sheds.
Horse-drawn sleigh rides at Christmas time here are magical. In the past couple years, I’ve started dreaming about having children of my own to take on sleigh rides and bake cookies in the big farmhouse kitchen with Aunt Carrie.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Derek asks, taking my hand.
“Just thinking about what I need to do at the camp tomorrow.”
“Liar.” He shakes his head and laughs.
I nudge him with my shoulder. “Okay then, what are you thinking about?”
“How fast I can get your clothes off once we get to your p
lace.”
“You’re such a man.”
“Guilty.”
The barn housing my loft apartment comes into view as we round a corner.
“Remember, it’s nothing fancy,” I remind him.
“Perfect. I hate fancy.”
“Uh-huh. Says the guy who’s rebuilding his ten-bedroom luxury lodge.”
“Six bedrooms.”
“And how many of them have private baths again?”
“Only four.” He winks at me.
I open the door and lead the way up the staircase to the door that takes us into the loft. It’s all open, with reclaimed wood flooring and lots of windows displaying the night sky.
“I love it,” Derek says, stepping in and looking around.
“Thanks.”
I literally live in a barn, but I’m proud of my home. It has tall, white-painted cabinets, stainless appliances, and dark granite countertops. My queen-size bed sits in a corner of the huge, open room, still unmade from this morning.
“This place really feels like you,” Derek says as he walks over to the bed.
“What, messy? Scattered? Weird?”
He shakes his head, his expression serious. “Beautiful. Authentic. It makes me feel so good, I could stay forever.”
My stomach flips as I slowly join him next to my moonlit bed. I remind myself of the most important lessons I learned in therapy. Optimism is a choice. Trust is the greatest gift we can give another person. It’s also the greatest gift to receive. And of all the places in the world Derek could be right now, all the people he could be with—he chooses here. He chooses me.
“My clothes are still on, Heaton,” I say in a level tone. “It’s like you’re not even trying.”
With a smirk, he takes me into his arms and kisses me long and deep. It’s the kind of kiss that takes ahold of all thought and sensation. As Derek’s mouth moves down to my neck, and then my shoulders, I let myself feel not just his physical touch, but the reverence too.
As he slides my clothes off and we fall to the bed together, I work up the courage to say the thing that terrifies me most. More than any basement or confined space.
“I love you, Derek,” I whisper.
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