The Trade

by Quinn, Meghan

  I push my hand through my hair and can’t decide what I should do. She still hasn’t moved, still hasn’t said anything, and the longer I stay in the room with her, the more I itch to go to her, take back everything I said, and say I can do a fling, hoping and praying it would turn into more.

  So instead of losing that last shred of self-control, I grip the back of my neck and move past her, slowly. “I, uh, I’m going to give you some space to leave in peace.” I reach out and graze my finger over her arm. “You’re beautiful, Natalie. Don’t let your ex dictate what you feel about yourself any longer. He’s blind and extremely stupid. Because you? You’re extraordinary. You’re a force to be reckoned with, funny, intelligent, and I’ll be honest, sexy as fuck. And when you’re ready, there’s no doubt in my mind you’ll find what you’re looking for. Who you’re looking for.”

  On that last note, I move past her and down the hallway to my room where I quietly shut the door, only to fall against it. Elbows on my knees, I spike my hands through my hair and wonder how the fuck I got to this point? Completely distraught over a girl who wasn’t in my life a few months ago, but now controls my every damn thought.

  I hear her feet travel across my hardwood floors to the entryway where there’s the telltale sign of her suitcase being moved, followed by the click of the front door shutting behind her.

  Fuck . . .

  I was right. She wasn’t ready for me. Better to know now than later. Better to only have a small taste of her rather than the whole thing. Better to start to repair this aching feeling in my bones now rather than during the season.

  There’s only one way I know how to make this better, and it’s to pull a Carson . . . bury myself in my training.

  Chapter Eighteen

  NATALIE

  “Did you forget something on the plane?” Jason asks over the phone as I lean against the wall right next to the elevator of Cory’s apartment, my heart in my throat.

  “Jason . . .” I say, my voice choked up and short.

  “Where are you? What’s wrong? Do you need me to come get you?”

  I shake my head despite him not being able to see me. I hate that he sounds so distraught, but thankful for such a wonderful brother all the same. Tears stream down my face and I slowly lower myself to the floor of the hallway, my suitcase propped up next to me, my emotions drowning me as I try to comprehend what’s sprinting through my head.

  “I need . . .” I choke on a sob and try to collect myself. Breathe in, breathe out.

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Where are you? I’ll come there right now.”

  “That . . . might not be a good idea,” I say, slow and deliberate, trying not to hiccup sob again.

  Why am I so emotional?

  Because never in my life has a man talked to me like Cory just did—so passionate, so determined, so real. It’s like night and day to Ansel. Where he would never communicate, hide things, and not tell me his true feelings. Cory just bled it all out on the floor, showing me exactly where he stands and it was . . . too much.

  Too much to comprehend. Too much for me to handle in that moment, surrounded by him, his things, his fresh scent. My mind was whirling, buzzing, terrified of what I might say or not say. I had to leave to collect myself. Or at least to let myself feel without his eyes trained on me. I know for a fact if Cory saw me right now, he would do everything in his power to make sure I was okay, because that’s who he is. And this is something I need to figure out without him.

  “Why is that not a good idea?” Jason asks. I can hear Dottie in the background, asking him if everything is okay. He must cover the phone because I can hear him muffle out my name.

  “I’m in Cory’s apartment hallway right now.”

  “You’re what?” he asks, his voice growing with anger. “I love that man, but if he did something to you, you have to fucking tell me. Did he?”

  I shake my head again, the word, “No,” barely slipping past my lips before more tears return. “He . . . he did nothing wrong. Everything right actually.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “Well, um . . . something happened between us last night, something sexual—”

  “Okay. Don’t need details, keep moving along.” His panicked voice actually makes me chuckle, easing the heavy burn in my chest.

  “I’ve had feelings for him for a while now and they all kind of crashed together last night and this morning, but before I could even talk to him about it all, he bolted.”

  “Yeah, he was pretty quick to leave.”

  “I talked to Monica about it and she convinced me to confront him. That’s why I asked for his address.”

  “So you went to his place and asked what’s up?”

  “Yeah.” My pulse starts to steady and the tears turn into watery eyes as Jason’s voice soothes me, calms me. “And to say he was surprised to see me is an understatement. It took a bit to get it out of him, but what he told me . . . Jason, it just about wrecked me.”

  “Shit, are you going to make me cry? You know I love him.”

  I chuckle some more. “It might make you cry, hold on to your loins.”

  “Dick is clutched, continue.”

  He’s so fucking weird, but this is exactly why I called him, because I knew he’d not only give me sage advice, but also make me feel better with his jokes and quirkiness.

  “He told me, and I quote, he doesn’t want to be my goddamn rebound.”

  Jason gasps and then sighs. “Fucking hell, now I want to go nuzzle his nips. Ugh, what a fucking baller thing to say. He doesn’t want to be your rebound, which means he wants more.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, what the fuck are you talking to me on the phone for? This is Cory Potter we’re talking about. Not only does he have the kind of baseball stats only a god can achieve, but he’s also one of the nicest humans to ever walk this planet.”

  “I know, I’m just . . . I’m scared, Jason.”

  “Can you stop drooling over Cory and give your sister some wise advice?” Dottie says over the phone, and I’m guessing at this point Jason put me on speaker.

  “I’m not drooling.”

  “You’re thrusting your hips,” Dottie counters with a knowing voice.

  “Just thinking about him gets me excited but I get it, this isn’t about me, this is about Natalie.” Clearing his voice and trying to be serious, he asks, “Why are you scared?”

  “Because, it’s too soon. He wants me to be his girlfriend . . . exclusively. He doesn’t want to be a fling or a random one-night stand. He wants more. It’s why he’s been so up and down with me because he knows where I’m at, fresh off divorce, trying to figure things out.”

  “Okay,” Jason says, his voice softer now. “Do you not want to be with him?”

  “That’s the thing. I do want to be with him. And that’s what’s scaring me because ever since I met him in person at the fundraiser, I haven’t been able to get him out of my head. I never thought in a million years he’d look my way, want to be friends with me, or even want more. I always considered him out of my league, so I never let myself feel for him, until the last few days, when I saw strain in his eyes, like he was holding back this big secret and couldn’t take it any longer.” Growing quiet, I say, “It was me. He was holding back his feelings for me and it just . . . hell, Jason, it opened the floodgates. I want him, just as much as he wants me, maybe even more.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t want him to be my rebound either, but I’m nervous I’m not ready for what Cory has to offer. I can see myself getting lost in him and that’s what I allowed with Ansel. I never found who I was until he drifted away. Cory is high profile, and just this past week I felt how consuming being near him can be. I don’t know if I’m mentally ready for Cory yet . . . but I want to be, so badly.”

  “I understand what you mean about Ansel. For a while there, I worr
ied about you not reaching your potential. You were both . . . lost in each other, until he wasn’t.”

  “Exactly.” Until he definitely wasn’t. Until I wasn’t enough. “Now that I’m free of him, shouldn’t I focus on myself and not jump into something that could possibly be more intense than anything I had with Ansel?”

  Jason doesn’t answer and it makes me nervous, because usually he has the answer right away. Finally, he says, “I’m not saying this because I’m partial, but haven’t you been trying to date and keep coming up empty-handed?”

  “Yes, and that’s why I think maybe I should work on myself.”

  “It’s not you, Natalie, it’s you finding the right person. I saw the way you were with Cory this past week. The glances here and there, the easy way you two fell in step together. The laughing, the joking, the comradery. It’s there. It’s easy. Like it’s meant to be. Why would you want to pass on that because you’re scared it might be too much?”

  I look toward Cory’s apartment door, and it feels like an iron fist grips my heart, constricting the blood flow. “Because I failed once already,” I admit, the truth hitting me like a tidal wave. “If I fail with a man like Cory, what does that say about me?”

  “Without failure, none of us would be able to move forward. Failure is what propels us to the next chapter of our lives,” Jason says thoughtfully. “Ansel was a part of your life for a reason. He might go down in your book as a failure, but he’s also a reason why you’re where you are right now, sitting outside a great man’s apartment, trying to figure out if you want to take that step forward with his hand in yours.” He pauses. “I think you’d regret not seeing where this thing between you and Cory takes you. There’s something special there and I think you owe it to yourself to give it a shot.”

  Just like that, a new wave of tears fall down my cheeks. “You really think so?”

  “Yes,” Dottie says in the background just as a door opens down the hallway.

  My stomach drops and I turn to see Cory locking up, then he finds me, sitting on the floor of his apartment hallway, my giant bag next to me, tears streaming.

  Without a second thought, he comes charging toward me.

  “Hey, I have to go,” I say quickly into the phone. Just as I hang up, Cory is squatting down to my level, hand on my shoulder.

  His eyes search mine frantically as he lifts his hand and wipes away my tears. “What’s going on?” He surveys my body and then brings his eyes back up to mine. “Are you okay?”

  I try to smile, but it feels more like a flat line than anything as another tear falls down my cheek. “I’m fine.” I take a deep breath and look toward the ceiling. “I hate being emotional. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” He stands and helps me to my feet. All traces of anger gone as he fawns over me, making sure I’m okay.

  It all comes crashing down. We just had one of the most intense conversations of my life, open and honest, Cory poured his heart out to me and instead of saying anything, settling the twist that’s probably turning in his stomach, I left.

  If it was Ansel, or probably any other person, if they saw me crying in the hallway, they wouldn’t ask if I was okay, help me to stand, show deep concern . . . only Cory.

  And that’s when everything Jason said clicks. I would regret it if I didn’t give Cory a chance, if I don’t put my past aside, the fear of another failed relationship, and try to move forward. And Cory’s words float through my heart, strengthening my resolve. “You’re beautiful, Natalie. Don’t let your ex dictate what you feel about yourself any longer. He’s blind and extremely stupid. Because you? You’re extraordinary.” Two men I trust. Two men who believe in me.

  Mustering up all the courage I have, I turn toward him and reach out to take his hand in mine. He doesn’t shy away, but he doesn’t squeeze back. He lends out his hand for my comfort and I soak it all in.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “I told you, you don’t have to apologize, Natalie.”

  “I do,” I say quickly before I lose my courage. “I should have said something in your apartment. I shouldn’t have left like that. I was overwhelmed and didn’t know how to handle it all.” He starts to talk, but I press my fingers to his lips. “Please, let me explain.” He nods and continues to gaze into my eyes. His attention gives me joy, another thing I’m now aware Ansel never gave me. He always had one eye on the TV. Or his phone. Or the computer. Always. “I’m scared because what I feel for you is new and strong and feels like it could easily consume me.”

  “I know what you mean.” This time he squeezes my hand.

  “And I thought that maybe I needed to slow down, figure out myself first, because I don’t want you to be my rebound either, Cory. I want you to be so much more, but I realized, the more I wait, the more I try to figure things out, the more and more I will yearn for you, for your touch, for your warmth. I got a taste of it in St. Croix and I already know I need more. This is terrifying to me, jumping into another relationship right after a failed marriage because there’s risk of failure again. But I honestly don’t think I could get on that elevator and walk away. Not without knowing I’m exclusively yours.”

  His eyes soften and his chest deflates in relief as he pulls me into a hug and wraps his arms around my shoulders. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice in disbelief. “I want you to want this, not because I put it out there. I know this isn’t exactly what you were looking for.”

  “I wasn’t,” I admit. “I wasn’t necessarily looking for a connection this strong, but here it is and there is nothing I can do about it other than live in the moment and accept the fact that you’re what I want, right now. Who I want.”

  He puts distance between us so he can look me in the eyes. There’s a pinch to his brow as he asks, “I want to date, Natalie. This isn’t casual for me.”

  “This isn’t casual for me either,” I quickly say. “Nothing about the feelings I have for you is casual. It would be so much easier if they were, but they came in fast and strong and even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could shake them.”

  He rests his forehead against mine and says, “Same. I tried.” He chuckles. “Fuck, did I try, especially when I thought you were still married. But you stuck with me.” He lifts my chin and says, “Didn’t help that you were waltzing around our hotel room in a nightgown, braless, or those other matching pajamas for that matter.”

  “Most of the time, it was out of comfort, other times it was to get your attention.”

  “It worked.” He chuckles. “The amount of times I jacked off in the shower should be a sin. You were driving me crazy.”

  He strokes his hand over my hair, his eyes trained on mine the whole time. “What about you walking around with your shirt off all the time, did you think that was easy for me?”

  “Yes.”

  I poke his side and he grips me tightly, right before lowering his mouth to my lips and pressing his lips against mine. “So . . . are we really doing this?”

  I nod. “We are.”

  “And you’re sure?”

  “Could not be more sure.”

  “Good.” He presses another light kiss across my lips and before I can revel in it, he pulls away. “Then let’s get you home.”

  “Wait . . . what?” I ask, stepping away to see if he’s serious. “You want to take me home?” I look down the hallway. “But your apartment is right there, a few feet away, with multiple fucking surfaces.”

  He laughs out loud, his head flying back while he grips me tighter with his arms, forcing me to rest my head against his chin. The rumble of his laugh flows through me and I commit the feeling to memory, letting it sink beneath the layer of my skin.

  “I want to take things slow with you, Natalie.”

  “After you dry-humped my ass, isn’t that a little backward?”

  He shakes his head, puts his hand in mine, linking our palms, and then takes my suitcase with the other one and presses the down button on the elevator. “That was me
losing control, before I knew dating you was an option. That was me clinging to anything I could to fill the hole that was burned into me during vacation. A desperate man.”

  “So now you’re going to hold out on me?”

  He presses a kiss to my temple. “I’m doing this right. I never really gave much thought to a relationship before, and now I know this is what I want, I don’t want to give myself any opportunity to ruin it. So yeah, I’m going to hold out on you. I’m going to get to know you. Take you out. Hold your hand in public, sneak kisses when I can, and when the time comes, I’m going to spread you out naked on my bed and make love to you.” My body shivers as he lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers, “And then I’m going to fuck you across my entire apartment. Sound like a plan?”

  Unable to form words, as visuals of Cory fucking me on every surface of his apartment cross my mind, I nod my head, really liking his plan.

  The elevator dings and we both get on, Cory never letting go of my hand.

  On the way down, I ask, “Where were you headed when you came out of your apartment?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know, really. I was just going to start walking until I felt like my head was clear. Pretty sure if I didn’t find you in the hallway, I’d be walking all day and through the night.”

  “Well, I guess you don’t have to worry about wearing out the tread on your shoes now.”

  He smiles at me and then wraps his arm around my shoulders again, kissing the top of my head. I melt into his embrace, wondering if this is how our relationship will be. He treasures me. He’s done that from the beginning if I think hard about it. I understand now why he was guarded, and it wasn’t to frustrate me, but to keep his heart safe. And that tells me everything I need to know about this man. He sees me as someone who could hurt him. Me. Which means he’s going to protect my heart too.

  * * *

  “You’re so manly wheeling my bag around for me.”

  He chuckles and says, “Want me to roll it into your bedroom?”