The Right Move (Windy City, #2)

by Liz Tomforde

“All this time I thought you didn’t believe in love.” “I believe in love, but I’m a realist. You could love someone with your entire being, but it doesn’t guarantee they’ll love you in return. It’s a gamble, and I don’t like to make bets I might lose.”

It’s his version of control, I realize, never letting himself feel deeply enough to wager getting hurt. Never letting himself feel at all. I, on the other hand, just went all in and lost on a single hand, but I’m already thinking about taking a seat at the table for another round.

Did she realize how special she was to be chosen by him?

Loving someone doesn’t ensure that sentiment is reciprocated, but even though I’ve tried and failed, I hope one day I find it again. I hope one day Ryan will wish it for himself too.

His thumb draws mindless circles on my lower back. “How are you still such a romantic, huh? After everything.” “I’ve got to believe that there’s more than what I had, if you can even call that love anymore. And that’s exciting, hopeful even, to believe there’s better out there. Call me a dreamer. Call me naive, I don’t care. I call myself optimistic.”

He stills us on the dance floor, feet no longer moving. His ocean eyes track every inch of my face, lingering on my lips. “There is better out there, and if anyone deserves to get everything they want in life, it’s you.” “You deserve to have your dreams come true too.” “I don’t dream, Indy. I plan, and my lif...

His eyes can’t connect with mine as he says the words because I’m not sure ev...

“Enough talk.” He taps my ass, steering me to the center of the dance floor. “Come on, girl. Let’s have fun.”

“What’s wrong?” “Just trying to figure out how good you are at acting.” “You think I’m acting?” “I don’t know what’s what anymore.” His palm slides down my back, cupping my ass, and pulling my hips into his where I’m met with a bulge hitting just above the apex of my thighs. “Does this feel fake to you?” My breath catches. “Jealousy turns you on?” “Nah. No need to be jealous when I know what’s mine. I’m the one you’re going home with.”

Hearing the person who knows Ryan best call him sensitive, reaffirms what I already knew. He feels things. He’s emotional, even if he tries to play it off.

I wish I could take a picture and keep it forever, because he looks absolutely stunning with the slight neon glow of the exit sign illuminating above him. He helps me put my coat back on, delicately pulling my hair from the collar. Eyeing the heels in his hand, we silently and mutually agree that there’s no way in hell they’re going back on.

“Do you trust me?” “Of course, I do.” Her eyes soften. “Do you trust me?” “Yes,” I say without hesitation, and the realization that I’ve never trusted another woman more than I do Indy has me real close to finding a condom and saying fuck it to my two-year celibacy streak. There’s a fierce surge of possessiveness running through me, screaming mine. Her legs are spread on my couch. She lives in my house. She wants my cock.

If this is what it feels like to give up control and have a stunning woman tell me what to do, I need to let go more often.

Now, I can’t think of a better weekend than holing up in the apartment with Ryan. I could talk as much as I’d like, or we could sit in comfortable silence while reading next to each other. I wouldn’t have to be anyone I’m not because Ryan likes me for me far more than Alex ever did.

My little clean freak. He pulls the comforter up to my chin. “Try to get some sleep. I’m going to make you something to eat.” Brushing my hair away from my face, he places a soft kiss on my damp forehead. “Ryan,” I call out, stopping him in the doorway. “Why are you doing this?” “Because I like taking care of people. You, especially.” He

“Let me do that, Blue.”

As I replay Maggie’s words of how Alex regrets the way things have played out, an unexpected peace washes over me. Because I don’t regret it at all. If Alex hadn't done what he did, I never would’ve had the opportunity to know Ryan the way I do. I never would’ve had the chance to be immersed in this man’s world and realize how right it feels. How at home I feel.

It’s an overwhelming realization to have, that I truly want no part of the life I once wanted.

Ryan doesn’t make me feel like a burden. He doesn’t make me feel like I’m too much. I’ve offered him absolutely nothing other than exactly who I am, and he’s embraced every part of me, good and bad.

“Indy,” he whispers from behind me. “What you offer in a relationship, as a friend, a woman, a partner, by simply being who you are is more than enough. And if someone can’t see that you’re everything, then it’s them who's missing out. I know you’re faithful. It’s one of my favorite things about you, but there has to be a limit. Some people don’t deserve your unwavering loyalty.” Tears leak from my closed eyes, partly because I’m sick and partly because I’ve never had someone take care of me like this, body and soul. Today’s realizations are overwhelming me, and in true Indy fashion, crying is my favorite outlet. “No one has ever taken care of me,” I squeak past the lump in my throat. “Thank you, Ryan.”

“Are you faking it?” “No, Blue. I’m not faking anything.” Then I feel his fingers slip into my wet hair, separating the strands into three equal parts. “Are you braiding my hair?” “Yes.”

“Did I do something wrong last night?” “No. God no. You were perfect.” “Then why’d you leave me?” He exhales a long sigh. “Because I’m fucked up, Blue.” “No, you’re not.” “I am,” he bursts. “I had…” He pauses, his long fingers holding onto my partially braided hair. “You’re a fucking gift, Ind, and I cannot believe I made you feel anything less than that. I’m so sorry. I truly am.”

“I don’t know how to be casual with you, and that scares the shit out of me. I’m trying to. You’ve made it clear you don’t have anything left to give, and at the same time, I’m still so fucked up from things that you don’t even know about.” His face screws up in pain, quickly reminding me that I’ve barely scratched the surface of Ryan’s past. “It all hit me like a freight train last night.”

Hand slipping around my neck, he palms my opposite cheek and drops a desperate kiss to the top of my head, lingering his lips there for a moment.

His words were laced with desperation and honesty, but he is wrong about one thing. I do have something left to give. I’ve quickly learned that when I’m not putting on an act, when I’m encouraged to be unapologetically myself, the exhaustion from wearing a perfect mask is gone. I have the energy to love someone, and my heart has the space to accept it in return. Alex may have drained the old me, but the real me, I have plenty left to give. And I think I’d like to give the real me to Ryan if he wants it. I think he’d treat my heart with kindness.

She freaked me out when I saw her at that party, clammy skin and sunken eyes. I didn’t realize she’d need someone to remind her to take care of herself, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. She spends so much time making others happy that I’m learning she tends to pass over her own well-being in the process.

I hate the idea of leaving that apartment. I knew there would come a time when I would have to move out and Ryan was adamant about me saving for my own place, ever since our first morning together. But the thought of waking up and not having breakfast with him, not finding a coffee cooling down for me in the fridge, and not tossing out the remnants of another bouquet he killed by trying his hardest to make it thrive feels like the worst-case scenario. Not being suffocated with his presence every second I’m at home seems…lonely. And not in the way I’ve felt loneliness before by simply not having others around, but by being without the one person who makes me feel valued and worthy of the space I’m occupying. That my voice is worth hearing.

“Indy, I don't want to freak you out, but if it’s torn, he’s done for the season, and more than anyone I know, Ryan believes this game is all he has. Take care of him, okay?” I nod in agreement. It’s what I’m best at.

“My brain doesn’t do shit for me in this game. My body does.” Other than that statement being entirely absurd, he’s wrong. I don’t know much about the sport but from what I’ve seen, he’s always the smartest guy on the court. He anticipates every play, every move. He sees it all before it happens. His brain is the most special part of him as a player, and along the way, his body happened to catch up with that talent.

“Why’d you come to the hospital?” he asks softly. “Because you were hurt.” “Was it because Ron was there, and it would look suspicious if you weren’t?” I jolt back slightly. “Is that what you think?” He shrugs, looking away from me. “I was there to see you. Believe it or not, I don’t give a shit about your boss, and I couldn’t care less who you are to anyone else. To me, you’re…well, I don’t know what you are, but you’re…important. You as a person, not the player, are important to me.”

He swallows down the tears. “I think you should catch a flight and meet up with the hockey team on the road. Stevie can take care of me.” “No.” “Indy, please,” he begs, refusing to make eye contact. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” “Like what?” I gently grasp his chin, making him meet my eyes. Tears well at the base of his lashes, but they don’t drop. “Like what?” I press. “Human?” “I’m not allowed to be human.” Those tears fall, but I quickly wipe them away with my thumbs before he freaks himself out too much when he feels them on his cheeks. “I’m not allowed to mess up. I’m not allowed to step out of line. I’m not allowed to get injured and take a month off. I’m not allowed to turn it all back on. The amount of pressure on me,”—he sucks in a sharp, shaky breath—“feels suffocating. I feel suffocated.” His chest shakes as he tries to breathe without full-on crying. I’ve never imagined I would see him in this state, and I feel both honored and terrified to fuck it up and make him crawl right back into his emotionless shell. “Turn what back on, Ry?” “All of it. Wanting things I know I can’t have. Feeling things I know won’t be reciprocated. Wanting a future that has nothing to do with basketball.” Tears continue to fall from the corners of his eyes. “That’s all I have in this life, and it has to be enough for me.” What is he talking about? “Ryan,” I coo, running my thumbs over his freckled cheeks. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” Looking at me...

Indy nods in agreement, offering her full attention. Turning her waist, I open her legs around mine so she’s not only sitting in my lap, but also looking at me straight on. I’ve run away from talking about this for so long and I can’t keep it in anymore. She’s overwhelmed me, walking into my life with her chaos and kindness and between realizing how much I want her and almost losing everything today, I’m wrecked. Emotionally undone. It’s unexpectedly liberating. For years, I’ve been emotionally numb and, in a way, refusing to feel anything— joy, sadness, love, or in this case, fear— felt like a death sentence. I don’t want to be numb anymore.

“When I was younger and I thought about my future, I saw myself playing in the NBA, but in equal measure I saw myself having a family alongside me while I did it. And I’m not referring to Stevie and my parents, but I wanted a partner. I wanted a wife, kids, all that white picket fence shit.”

“I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but I was a lot like you when I was younger. I used to trust people, love people. Stevie always gave me shit about being a hopeless romantic because I saw the best in people and when I fell, I fell hard. I had a couple of girlfriends in high school, but it wasn’t until college that I fell in love for the first time. Only time, actually.”

“That’s why you left the other night?” I nod. “It scared me.” “You don’t think I’d—” “No,” I cut her off before she can even form that sentence. No, I don’t think she’d try to use me in any way, shape, or form. “I just haven’t allowed myself to want someone in a very long time. That’s what scared me.”

“I wish I had known,” she whimpers. “I would’ve cleaned up after myself more. I thought you were just giving me a hard time about how messy I am. I don’t want to be a reminder of those days.” “Oh, Ind. No, no, you’re not. I’m just teasing you about that.” I turn slightly, speaking quietly as I hold her. “I think it’s good for me, maybe. Having you here has helped me let go of some of my control.”

Until you, I want to add. Until you walked into my apartment and flipped my world on its head, unraveling every notion I had convinced myself of. Erasing every belief I once held.

Fuck my life. I haven’t had a chance to talk to Stevie about my feelings for her best friend, and she just walked in to find her sitting in my lap. Not only that, but my roommate is over here telling me she’s going to move out because I didn’t get to explain that those insecurities of mine don’t apply to her.

“So,” she shifts the subject. “Should we talk about last night?” Stevie’s twin brain is synced with mine as I look out of the corner of my eye, finding my mirrored expression on her face, knowing smirk and all. “What do you want to talk about?” I ask, feigning innocence. She laughs. “You’re so full of shit. It’s obvious you asked me to drive you home instead of Harold so we can talk about this, so start talking, Superstar.” Fuck, sometimes it’s scary how well we know each other. “I might have a little thing for your best friend.” “Ha!” she bursts out a laugh. “Good God, Ry. Want to try that again?” I roll my eyes. “I might possibly be a little bit smitten by the blonde living in my house.”

She needs to know how much I want her to stay. How much I need her to stay.

“I want her, Vee. I don’t know where she’s at or what she’s even capable of feeling after everything she’s been through, but I’ll take whatever she can offer.” I look over to her as she continues driving, concentrating on the road. “Would you be okay with that?” I can see a faint tilt of her lips. “You don’t need my permission to be together.” “Well, I still want it. This is your best friend, and we both know it’s my fault that other friendships haven’t worked out for you.” “Look, you could be talking about anyone, and I’d just be stoked to hear you’re opening yourself up again, but with Indy?” She peeks over at me. “There’s no one I trust more to protect you as much as you’ll protect her.”

Indy hangs up the phone. “Why does my mother sound like your new bestie?” I pop my shoulders. “Mothers love me.” She eyes me suspiciously but doesn’t catch on to the fact her mom and I are as comfortable as we are because I’ve chatted with her parents more than a few times since I first met them over a video call in this very kitchen.

“Ryan, you didn’t let anyone down, and we had a deal. I’m supposed to help you be a better leader.” “No, you’re just supposed to help me convince Ron that I am.” “Why not actually do it? You can’t play for a month. Why not take this as an opportunity to shift gears and contribute in other ways? You’re the smartest guy on the team. You can still use your brain from the sidelines.”

Of course, I should’ve known the second Indy learned everything about my past she would attempt to help me begin healing from it all. She’s good like that, caring like that.

I want to kiss it off her and tell her she’s not allowed to go anywhere. Not when she fits so right here, when she makes it feel like home, but the knock at my door keeps me from doing so.

“Holy shit, Shay. She’s only your girlfriend and you get all this? This is wifey material.” Indy pours him another glass of wine, trying not to laugh. “Indy, if he won’t marry you, I’ll do it. Right now.” He begins to stand from his seat as if he were to go down on one knee in front of her. “Get your ass back in your seat,” I command from the head of the table. He ignores me, focusing back on the stunning blonde. He gestures between the two of them before silently mouthing, “You and me. Call me.” She giggles and it’s my favorite sound.

“I told you that you could trust me.” I place a kiss on her shoulder, not having much more to say other than being eternally grateful for her pulling me out of my shell tonight. In an odd way it feels liberating to have company over. I thought I’d feel out of control, paranoid, but I don’t. I feel oddly…calm.

Sitting next to Indy feels good as it always does, but tonight as she chats with my team, there’s a sense of pride flowing through me that they believe she’s mine. She could be. I want her to be. Need her to be the more I watch how effortlessly she goes through life unguarded. She’s not just a happy-go-lucky girl with no perception of the terrible parts of life. She doesn’t shit rainbows or believe in unicorns, but she feels everything. Every emotion good or bad and for that reason alone she’s a breath of fresh air in my life. She’s living and I both admire her for it and am envious beyond belief. There was a shift last night as she sat in my lap, listening to me spill the worst part of my past that I realized I wanted her as my future.

“Fuck you guys. I can change. Shay changed.” He motions towards me. “Look at that love-sick motherfucker. Now he has an absolute smoke show living in his house. I want an Indy walking around my house.” “Watch it,” I bite out. “The girl’s got her MBA and she’s funny as hell.” Indy’s cheeks flush, embarrassment washing over her from being praised for her mind and not just the way she looks.

“My house is much bigger than Shay’s. You’re more than welcome.” Fucking shit-disturber. “She’s not going anywhere.” I say the words to Dom, but keep my eyes on Indy as they come out. She won’t look at me. It’s too right, having her here. This is where she belongs, with me, in this apartment. And if she thinks for a second she’s moving out, she’s out of her goddamn mind.