I live for this moment every night when Nora steps out of the bathroom from brushing her teeth, because she’s sleepy and relaxed and the smile she gives me when she sees me on the couch is just so…intimate. It’s this little brief second where no time has passed at all and we’re still just two young people madly in love with their whole lives ahead of them.
And I don’t know…maybe we are still those people.
The door opens and there she is in little black sleep shorts and an oversized sweatshirt and that sleepy smile on her lips. God—she’s so gorgeous. Sexy and curvy and freckled.
I kissed that woman this morning—I kissed her and she kissed me right back. Nothing about it was fake. Nothing about it for show. If there’s one thing I know for certain, Nora is not a good actress, and an even worse liar…so what I saw in her eyes, felt in her kiss, it was real. It was one of the signs the guys told me to look for, and I found it.
Was it maybe not the best place to have a kiss that passionate? Most likely. But I don’t regret it one bit. We were lying there on the beach and the sand was in her hair and the sun was golden on her skin and I couldn’t help it. I wanted her. Still want her. Will likely spend forever wanting her.
But not just in a physical sense. I want her as my best friend, my favorite person to talk to, the one who I walk with through every good and bad season. I want so much more with her than just that kiss on the beach.
The problem arises if Nora doesn’t want this too. Because 20/20 crystal-clear lines or not, it’s going to be difficult returning to a normal business relationship after all this. Make no mistake, though, if that’s what she wants I’ll do it. Because I’ve decided that living a life where Nora is nothing but a platonic work friend is worlds better than a life without her in it at all.
I think she’s sorting through all these potential implications and pros and cons too. Because after that beach incident and the truth bomb I dropped about my N tattoo, Nora didn’t come back with me to the room. Or she did, but only long enough to change her clothes and pack a tote bag with a few books, and then she made an awkward excuse about wanting to go read by the ocean and live her best unplugged life. In other words, she was feeling off-kilter and avoiding me to regroup.
It was a good separation for the day. It gave me time to process my feelings while working out in the resort gym. To replay every damn word I said out there and decide if it was worth it to tell the truth. I don’t regret it. If anything, I feel relieved. Part of me is still worried that Nora is going to bolt. That maybe she’ll go out on a coffee run and then text me that she went to the airport instead and couldn’t do this anymore. But even if that happens, I won’t regret having told her the truth and kissing her like I did.
It helps, though, that Nora did come back this evening. She walked through the door, smiled a soft smile, and then went to get a shower.
And now here we are, me drinking hot chamomile tea and mentally falling all over myself at the sight of Nora leaving the bathroom. Except when she twists back to turn off the light, she winces.
“What’s wrong?” I sit up straighter on the couch and set down my mug.
“Nothing.” She comes over to the couch and sits, but on the opposite end. Far away. Is that a bad sign? Did her thinking on the beach lead to an opposite outcome from mine? “What are we watching? SportsCenter? Ooh—turn it up.”
“Nora.”
“Derek, let it go. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Turn it up, please,” she says with a final bite to her words. She’s not mad at me. This woman just hates when people fuss over her. I remember when I had to take care of her while she had the flu once and I thought she was going to chop my head off every time I forced her to take medicine. And it’s her spiciness to me now that lets me know something truly is bothering her.
I have no choice but to let it go, so I turn the volume up a few notches. Of course, no sooner than I do, my face suddenly fills the screen. Nora and I both tense, instinctively thinking our elopement is about to be discussed on television, but it never comes up. Instead, the two announcers discuss all the potential pitfalls of me returning to the Sharks after my injury.
“I don’t know, Blake, do you really think they’ll start him? Sure, Derek used to be a heck of a tight end before his injury, but he’s thirty now, and it’s harder to bounce back from these things. I mean, how many players have we seen come back from an injury like this and play even half as strong as before?” says one of the announcers.
“Very few,” the other host adds. “Especially now knowing how incredible of a backup the Sharks have had sitting on their bench. Collin Abbot had a heck of a rookie start at the end of last season with an impressive five catches for 121 yards and two touchdowns.”
“As much as I’d like to see Pender make a full comeback, I don’t think it seems likely.”
The TV cuts off. I turn my head to find Nora setting down the remote. “You don’t need those buffoons getting in your head. Collin is a good player”—she smirks—“but you’re better.”
My pulse floods my ears. “They’re right, though. I’m getting old in the world of sports. Abbot is a better bet.”
“You’re thirty, Derek. A sprightly spring chicken.” She nudges me with her foot, but I don’t laugh. I can’t because my chest is too painfully tight to even breathe. Everywhere I look someone is telling me I’m going to fail. That my career, I not only love but have grown up with, is over.
I look away but Nora is beside me in a flash. Curling into my side and putting her hand on my jaw to pull my face back. “Hey. What’s going on? What are you not telling me?”
It’s not fair of her to use her softness against me like this. One look in her eyes, one swipe of her thumb against my cheek and I melt for her. All my best-kept secrets fly out like they were never guarded in the first place. “I can’t lose it, Nora. I can’t lose football.”
“You’re not going to.”
“I might. You and I both know the Sharks are looking at budget cuts. I’m the weakest link with the second-highest salary. I might as well have a target on my forehead. And if I lose it…” The words come out gruff and thick—because anger is easier than disappointment for me.
My damn eyes prickle. I won’t cry in front of her. In front of anyone really. So I try to get up from the couch with the intent of leaving the suite until I can get my feelings under wraps again, but Nora puts her hand on my chest and stops me. “Oh no, you don’t.”
“Nora, please let me g…” My words die off as she slings one leg over my lap and sits. Two hands go to my jaw, and her hazel eyes sear into mine.
“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me the truth. Give me all those ugly feelings swirling around behind your eyes. They look like they’re on a teacup ride having the time of their life.”
Like it’s a fragile thing, I close my hand softly around her wrist. She’s straddling my lap, anchoring me down intentionally to get her way. “This isn’t fair.”
“We can’t always play by the rules.” Her smile turns to a frown. “Tell me what’s bothering you. Please.”
I wish I could keep it to myself. But I’m weak under her hypnotic gaze. Drunk on her touch. Spiraling out on her scent.
“I’m dyslexic.” It’s fitting that Nora is the first person I’ve ever said that out loud to, since she’s also the first person I’ve ever felt truly understands me.
She looks shocked only for a second. And that’s mainly because of my abrupt admission. Her thumb touches my lips and slides away. “How long have you known?”
“Not long. A few months. I had my suspicions, so I got tested.”
“And how do you feel about it?” She’s tentatively circling me with her words. Feeling me out to see if this is the main issue or if there’s something deeper.
I sigh and release her wrist to run my hand over my face and into my hair. “Honestly, having the diagnosis hasn’t changed a lot in my day-to-day. I mean, I don’t have a career that exactly requires a lot of reading or studying, so it’s been more of an emotional shift than anything. And that’s…been interesting.”
She drops her hands to rest between us on my chest. “How so?”
I glance down and close my hand around her fist—holding it like a present. “I guess I’ve been looking back at my younger self with more compassion. And maybe a little sadness.” I feel the need to blink several times. And clench my jaw. “It’s nice to know that there was a reason behind all the difficulty. To know that I wasn’t just some kid who didn’t know how to apply himself like everyone said. But to look back and be able to appreciate how hard I was working, and actually did great considering the lack of support or resources.” I pause and swallow. “And I guess that’s where the sad part comes in—my brain just works different, and no one saw it. Not even my parents. Not my teachers. Definitely not my classmates who were busy laughing at me every time it was my turn to read out loud.” Definitely never mentioned that particular memory to anyone before. “Everyone just assumed I wasn’t trying hard enough…and because of that…football really became my ticket to a good future. One where I didn’t have to rely on reading. One where I could make something of myself and finally see that look of pride in my parents’ eyes.”
I pause and have to clear my throat twice. I look away and Nora lets me. “But now, all I have is football, Nora. All I am, and have ever been, is a good football player. And I’m scared that if I lose this—the only thing I’ve ever exceeded at—I’ll lose everything. Who am I without it?” Because the last time that I lived a life without football, I was nothing but a disappointment.
She doesn’t rush to correct me or to convince me that I’m overreacting. Nora’s eyes peer into mine for several breaths before she tilts her head. “Okay. Let’s say you lose it all. What then?”
“This doesn’t feel like a good start.”
She pushes against my shoulder. “Just answer the question. What happens to you if the Sharks call us tomorrow and tell us you’ve been cut?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’ll probably get epically drunk, to be honest.”
“Okay, after you get drunk and feel your feelings and sober up, then what?”
I don’t like this game. I don’t like thinking about what’s going to happen to me. It’s why I haven’t let myself consider it yet. The thought is too depressing. But she’s not going to let it drop, so I force myself to do it. “I…I don’t know, I imagine the guys will probably be all up in my house trying to revive my spirits.”
“You think your friends are still going to talk to you after you’ve been cut from the team?”
A defensiveness for my friends sweeps me. “Yeah…of course. They would never—”
I cut off and a slow cunning grin pulls over Nora’s mouth. Damn. I fell right into that. You won’t lose everything. That beautiful devious smile of hers shoots down my spine, amplifying my desire for her. But she’s on my lap, so I need to not think about how beautiful she is or how much I want her in this moment.
“It doesn’t matter how you got your friends; those guys are going to be with you for life, Derek. And they’ll be there to help you in your next steps too. It might not be easy to find out who you are outside of the NFL, but that’s okay because you’ve overcome hard things your whole life. You’re up for the challenge. Yes—the sport, the people, the fame, it all shaped you into who you are now, but it does not make up the whole of who you are. Football was just the start. You have—”
I kiss her.
I steal the words right out of her mouth. But then I remember that she has a no-kissing-inside-the-room rule and I pull my mouth away just as quickly. “I’m sorry. You said not to kiss inside and I—”
She kisses me.
We both breathe sharply. She hesitates for only a second before rising to her knees to wrap her arms around my neck and get a better angle on my mouth. The kiss is melting and demanding all at once. I spread my hand across her back to rock her closer to me, but she yelps at my touch.
I pull back. “Okay, what’s going on?”
She shakes her head, already leaning in to continue where we left off. “I’m fine. Kiss me.”
But I tuck my chin back, cutting off her access to my mouth. And then to really seal the deal I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not kissing you anymore until you tell me why the hell you keep wincing in pain.”
“Just let it go!” she pleads.
“No. You didn’t let it go for me. Fair is fair.”
Her face is all defeat before she twists around, presenting her back to me. She reaches over her head, slowly bunching up the sweatshirt to reveal a very, very sunburned back. Excruciatingly red from our day on the beach.
I drag in a breath through my teeth. “Shit. Nora. I’m so sorry.” I feel like a real jackass for pulling her out into the water without sunscreen. “I didn’t think you’d burn that quickly.”
“It’s not all your fault. I forgot to put on more sunscreen before I went out again to think—I mean read,” she quickly corrects with a guilty smile. “But it’s fine because I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be a stop sign and now I get to find out firsthand.”
“All right. Lie down on the floor,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen. “I’d like to remind you, Mr. Dermott, ours is a business relationship.”
“Huh?”
“It’s from How to Steal a Million…never mind.”
It’s hard to keep up with Nora sometimes, so I don’t even try.
“Lie down on your stomach on the floor.” I set her on her feet, and then I go into the bathroom, where I dig through my toiletry bag.
Unsurprisingly when I come back into the room, Nora is standing stock-still beside the couch—noncompliant with my command. I smile, knowing where her head has gone. I hold up a bottle of aloe and realization sweeps her face. “Oh. Aloe! That makes more sense. You just had that on hand?”
“I can’t promise it’s not expired—but yeah. During summer practices I usually get pretty sunburned on my forearms at least once. I like to keep this around for emergencies. I’m going to use it on your back.”
“You are going to put it on me?”
I look around. “Unless one of your inanimate furniture pieces decides to come to life and help, yes.”
She worries the side of her lip, frowning at the floor. “Are you sure it’s a good idea? Especially after all the…” She hitches her head toward the couch where we were just making out. The blurry lines are concerning her again.
“What I’m sure of is that without this aloe you’ll stay in pain and sleeping will be near impossible—and then I won’t sleep either, knowing how much you’re hurting. So do us both, and everyone who has to interact with us tomorrow, a favor and let me cover you in this nasty, sticky green goo.” She hesitates another second. “I know you don’t like when I bring this up—but…I have touched your bare skin before and I doubt applying aloe is going to affect me given the things we used to do.”
Her face flushes a vibrant shade of red that has nothing to do with the sunburn. “Okay, yep, just do it. But make it quick,” she says while adjusting facedown on the floor.
“Funny, that’s opposite of what I’m usually told.”
“Ha-ha so funny, Mr. Sexy Funny Guy. You kill me with laughter.” She peeks her unamused eyes over her shoulder at me. “Aloe, if you please.”
I kneel down beside her. And push her hair off to the side—it’s the color of cinnamon tonight. And even though I talked a big game to Nora about having touched her before, my hands shake as I lift the hem of her sweatshirt, slowly exposing the long expanse of her bare back all the way up to her shoulders. No bra in sight.
As if she can read my mind, Nora says, “The straps hurt too bad against the burn.”
It’s frighteningly red. Poor thing is going to have to sleep on her stomach tonight for sure. I feel terrible for convincing her to swim without sunscreen. I’m buying her a rash guard from the gift shop first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll lather her in sunscreen from forehead to toe. Hold an umbrella over her as she walks.
I dispense a little aloe on the center of her back and then cover it with my hands, softly spreading it around. Her skin is blazing under the cool gel and I worry that even though I’m moving as delicately as possible, my callused hands are too rough against the sensitive silkiness of her back.
This feels like a terrible time to be attracted to her, but I can’t help it. My teeth clench as I trace my gaze over her hourglass figure from her shoulder blades, along the soft curve of her waist, all the way down to where her hips flare out. I see the top freckle above the waistband of her shorts that begins my favorite constellation on her ass. We used to joke that stargazing was my favorite hobby.
And as I apply the aloe to the portion of her lower back where the sun especially attacked her skin, my fingers move from tender to worshipful—gliding over the soft divots that bracket her spine and kneading my thumbs up her shoulders. I notice chills spreading down her arms, and then suddenly Nora makes…a sound. A familiar sound low in the back of her throat (a moan if you will) that she absolutely didn’t mean to make, judging by the way her body goes tense. She abruptly lifts her head off the floor.
I raise my hands from her skin, hovering in limbo until I know what I’m supposed to do next.
“Umm…” She swallows. “That sound you just heard was…an…I-just-remembered-something-important sound. That’s all.”
“Ah,” I say with furrowed overly serious brows. “I understand.”
“Yeah. It’s like how phones have little dings for reminders. Well, I have…that sound. My reminder sound. Remember to drink a full eight glasses of water tomorrow, Nora.”
I gently pull her sweatshirt back down over her now-sticky back, unable to keep the smile off my face. Friends don’t make sounds like that. And co-workers don’t kiss like we kissed on the couch either. I finally have the answer I’ve been watching for.
I plant my hands on either side of her shoulders and lower my face to her ear. My nose brushes her cheekbone and I watch her eyes flutter shut. “I was hoping the sound was something else. Because turns out, I was wrong. I’m completely affected by touching you. Even with aloe.”
She inhales sharply and I want to kiss her while I’m here, my chest brushing against her back, smelling her tropical-scented hair and aloe-soaked skin. But I don’t.
I push up and off the ground, leaving a stunned Nora in my wake as I go to the bathroom to wash my hands.
Two seconds later, Nora pops up over my shoulders, looking at me in the reflection. Her eyes are bright, pupils dilated and skin flushed. “Okay, so listen. I’ve been thinking. It might be time—and this is completely out of the blue, mind you, and not as a result of any person whose pronouns are she/her making any inappropriate noises recently—but I think we should reinstate our good ole faithful rules.”
I turn to her, and she sinks back into the corner of the counter a little more, eyes flaring as I reach my arms around her to dry my hands on the towel behind her head.
“Funny you mention it.” The same sort of adrenaline I get before running out onto the field floods my veins. “I was just getting ready to bring up that topic.”
“You agree, then? We need to go back to the rules?”
I angle my face down to look her in the eyes. “Disagree. Strongly, in fact.”
She blinks. “Wait. Huh?”
I let go of the towel and lean back against the counter, folding my arms in front of me. “Nora, in the spirit of full disclosure, I want you to know, I plan on breaking every single one of our rules over the course of this week. Now is your chance to officially tell me not to.”
Her lips part in shock. It takes her a few seconds to respond. “Wh—why?”
“Because…” I breathe out my nerves. “Because I regret ever letting you go in the first place.” If she looked shocked before, she really does now. “Because I’m not convinced that what we had is really over between us. Because when we kiss, it feels right. Because when you smile at me my world feels whole. And I want to use this week where you’re not my agent and I have no other obstacles in my way…to woo you.”
She shakes her head slightly, trying to dislodge her words. “You’re going to…woo me?”
“Yes—I’m going to woo you.”
She shifts on her feet. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not!” she says an octave higher.
“Okay, I’m not.”
Her shoulders sag and she looks disappointed now. “Wait—you’re not?”
I smile and step closer to her, putting my hands on the outside of both her arms. “Nora. What do you want? Do you want to try us one more time while we have the perfect excuse to do it? Or do you want me to forget I ever said anything, and we can do as you suggested and double down on the rules? Either way, you’ll still be my agent when we get back to L.A. Your answer has no bearing on that.”
Her eyes meet mine and the air sizzles between us. All I really want to do is press her back into the wall and continue the kiss we started on the couch, but I refrain. Barely. Because I want her to be able to think about this. I don’t want her decision to be out of lust—or for her to think it’s out of lust on my end either. It’s so much more than that to me. It always has been.
And after several long, torturous moments Nora blurts, “I have to make a call!”
She slips under my arm and flies from the bathroom and then the suite. The door falls shut behind her with an ominous and non-encouraging thud.
