The Long Game (Long Game, #1)(123)

“Oh,” Kelly, as I’d just learned, answered. “I quit. I overheard everything that went on in that office tonight and you’re a piece of shit.”

“What the fuck—” David started.

I tightened my grip. “Language.” David’s lips thinned, and I smiled. I wasn’t going to hit him. I wanted to, but I didn’t think Adalyn would see that as a gesture. Plus, I—

The fingers on my shoulder squeezed. “Hey, love?” Adalyn said.

My eyes were on her in a heartbeat. “You calling me love?” I whispered. “Now, that’s playing dirty.” Almost as dirty as the things I was visualizing doing to her while she repeated that word over and over.

“Oh, I know,” she admitted with a flush. “But I don’t want you getting into trouble for me.” I hesitated and her fingers trailed up, all the way to my neck. She flicked her fingers along my skin there, and fuck, this woman had me eating out of her palm. “Please?”

I released David with a jerk of my arms.

He stumbled backward, sputtering, “What is wrong with you?” He fumbled with his shirt, sending us a glance. “And since when are you two a thing?”

“That’s none of your business,” Adalyn told him. “And also? You’re a dragon I can slay myself.”

Before I could even blink, Adalyn threw her free arm out and landed a punch on David’s jaw.

He doubled over with a groan.

“Okay.” I grabbed Adalyn by the waist, pulling her back just in case there was any more slaying planned. “Unexpected but deserved.”

David recovered, glancing back at us. “You’re not getting away with this. You—”

“She is,” Kelly said from her spot. “You think this is the only thing I have on video? Bitch, please. I recorded Adalyn’s conversation with her father, among many other things.” She turned toward us. “Shall we go now?”

Adalyn nodded and turned around. I brought her to my side and walked off with her. “My fucking warrior.” I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “That was extremely arousing, but it’s going to hurt tomorrow.”

Her lips pinched in pain. “It already does,” she murmured. I grabbed her hands in mine and inspected the one she’d thrown the hook with. “Next time I’ll let you do the punching.”

I was pretty sure my whole body smiled. “Next time?”

She shrugged. “You know, if my experience with the Green Warriors is anything to go by… the youth club I’m starting could get me into some trouble I might need assistance getting out of.” I came to a momentary halt. “I was thinking rural North Carolina. Coaching director position is open if you’re interested. I think the manager will try her best to make it worth your time.” She let out a puff of air through her nose. “What do you think? Interested?”

Before I knew what I was doing, her hand was to my mouth. “Interested?” I pressed my lips to the back of her fingers. “I’m ravenous, love.”

Those beautiful brown eyes sparked with happiness and a world of possibility, making my heart want to pound out of my chest and into her hands. In that moment, I was hopelessly, thoroughly hers.

“Tell me the words,” I pleaded, needing to hear them again. Every day that was to come. Every night I wanted her tucked against me.

“I fucking love you, Cameron Caldani,” Adalyn said.

I fucking loved her, too.

With everything I had.

And when she gave me the most breathtaking smile, I knew, with a conviction I’d never felt before, that with this woman by my side I’d be in for the fiercest, most beautiful game of my life. One where losing wasn’t in the odds, and one that kicked off today. With this woman’s smile and her in my arms.





EPILOGUE A little over a year later…





Adalyn


Go on, love.

He didn’t need to say the words. I could see them written in his face. It was one of the things I loved about him, about us, the way we didn’t need to utter a word to know what the other one was thinking. A touch was enough. A brush of hands. A glance. A tilt of the head. A twitch at the corner of his lips. A subtle change to the green of his eyes.

Or in this case, as Cameron stood in front of the goal during the one-year anniversary of the Warriors Soccer Youth Club, the start of a lopsided smile.

We were on the grass, kicking off the celebration with a one-on-one, as per popular demand. Cameron’s gloves were still very much hung up—literally, as we had them on the wall in our office—but in the last year, he had found his place on the sidelines, coaching our youngest female division and directing the coaches we’d recruited for the older ones. He was still attending therapy sessions on the regular to help him deal with the repercussions of the break-in, but Cameron was no longer so reticent about standing tall in the middle of crowds or attracting attention. I’d also done my fair share of therapy, and I’d quickly realized that it was something I should have done much, much earlier. Not just to have someone showing me how I’d been bottling up every worry in my head in an attempt at controlling my life, or that the relationship with my father had been an unhealthy one, but to learn the tools to process the chaos in my head and not let it turn into panic.