Page 100 of Off Court Fix
I sit in the tub for another five minutes before the pruning of my fingertips and toes becomes too much. Crosby helps me out and wraps me in a fluffy robe before leading me to the bed and pulling back the duvet.
“Where did those come from?” I ask when he rips open a package of ace bandages. “Were they in that first aid kit? It’s pretty small.”
Crosby begins to wrap my ankle, apologizing as I wince. “They came up with the ice.”
I tilt my head in confusion, but shake it off. Maybe I mentioned them to the concierge and forgot. The intensity of the pain and the evening at large has made my head foggy.
“I like you like this,” I say with a small laugh over the fact his branded sweater and uniform pants and shoes—symbolic reminders of why we’re meant to stay apart—make Crosby more attractive in my eyes. “Maybe I have a thing for men in uniform. Don’t tell anyone that either. Our secret.”
He sits on the edge of the bed, and I expect him to rebut my joke, but instead, Crosby stares silently.
“What?” I ask, pushing up on my elbow.
He shakes his head, disapproving of my movements, and only speaks after I’ve lain back down. “I have another secret,” Crosby says quietly as if we’re in a room filled with other people. He pushes my wet hair back from my face. “Do you want to hear it?”
I nod.
“That night we met, do you remember what I said when you asked if I’ve ever been in love?”
The newly rapid beating of my heart makes my chest move quickly. I nod.
Crosby sighs before he stands, sliding out of his shoes, removing his wallet and phone from his pocket, and then climbing into bed beside me. We inch toward each other, and he tugs my robe open so he can slip his hand in and press it against my back, pulling me even closer.
My skin chills from the air conditioning but quickly blooms with the warmth coming from Crosby’s clothed body. The only skin of his I feel is the heat of his palm and the small circles it makes against my back. Rarely are we alone without sexual tension rallying between us, but the tender and wholesome air in the hotel tonight is palpable, and I can tell that whatever Crosby says next will burrow deep within me.
“If you asked me again, right here and right now,” Crosby whispers into my ear. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t.”
My body stills and Crosby pulls his hand from my back to push my head up so I can see him.
“I love you, and when you love someone, you take risks, no matter the odds.” Crosby presses one small kiss to the corner of my mouth before moving to the other side and doing the same. “That’swhy I’m here. Because you show up for the ones you love. You take care of them, even when they’re being stubborn. You put it all on the line for them, even when there’s much to lose.”
His words make my body flinch and my lips tremble. Because everything for meison the line. But if someone barged into this room right now—say my father—they would have to pry my fingers one by one to loosen the grip I have on Crosby.
“And even though I shouldn’t love you, even though it hurts to wait forthesemoments”—Crosby pauses, squeezing my waist—“I’m going to do it anyway. You’re right. Maybe some things are worth the pain.”
I wakewith my unbuckled belt digging into my stomach and mutter a few curses, rolling onto my side. It takes a minute to gather my senses enough to realize where I am. My hand brushes across the space of the mattress that’s still warm, only Maxine is no longer in bed. I frown, wondering if it was all a dream—especially our quiet but clear profession of love for one another.
Turning, I push onto my elbows and feel too warm with my sweater still on, so I grab it from the back of my neck and toss it to the ground.
“Maxine?” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The room is dark apart from the city lights sprinkling in through the window, and that’s where I find her, nestled between the parted sheer curtains. I plant my feet on the carpeted floor and move to her. “Are you alright?” I ask. My initial thought as I come up behind her is that she’s still in a grave amount of pain—more than she should have to tolerate.
“I’m just thinking,” she says quietly as she leans back against my chest.
Her hair is still damp from when I washed it, the hotel robe still blanketing her. And I can tell, by the way her body dips to the side, Maxine still stands on one foot.
I take a greedy breath of her scent. “Come. Lie down,” I tell her, running my hands over the terry cloth covering her arms, preparing to swing one across my shoulders to support her. But Maxine makes no effort to move. I sigh, defeated. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Maxine takes a deep breath against me, and I can feel the uneasiness in her body.
“Maxine?”
“Do you wonder about what comes next?” she asks before swallowing heavily. “For us?”
All the time, I want to admit, but instead, I press my lips together, taking a moment to find the right words—careful words. Because the truth is I have been thinking about that for maybe even longer than I’ve loved Maxine.
Or maybe I’ve been wondering about it from the start, because maybe my heart knew something my head needed to catch up on to understand.
Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, I rest my chin on her shoulder, feeling whole when she tilts her head to mine. “I think it means sacrifice.”
