Chapter 51: Broken Play: Chapter 51

I don’t think I’ve ever driven the speed limit so impatiently in my life.

The second my plane landed, I was gone—duffel slung over my shoulder, car keys in hand, body running on adrenaline alone. Pro Day went better than I could’ve imagined. The scouts were watching, the numbers were there, and everything I’ve worked for since I was a kid is now right in front of me, just waiting for me to grab it.

But all I can think about is her.

Leaving for Pro Day was brutal. Not because I didn’t want to go—hell, I’ve dreamed of that moment my whole life—but because I finally had her back. After everything we’ve been through, after all the ways I’ve lost her, it damn near killed me to walk away, knowing I wouldn’t see her for days.

But now, I’m home.

Now, she’s waiting for me.

I pull into the driveway of the football house and barely let my truck roll to a stop before I’m out, slamming the door shut behind me as I grab my bag from the back. The house is already buzzing when I walk inside—guys moving around, music playing low from someone’s speaker, cologne thick in the air.

They’re getting ready to go out.

Logan looks up from the couch as I step inside, tossing a beer to one of the guys. “Look who finally made it back. Pro Day go as well as expected?”

I drop my bag by the stairs, running a hand through my hair. “Better,” I admit, unable to stop the small grin that creeps onto my face. “Numbers were solid, drills felt good. Think I made an impression.”

“No doubt, man,” one of my other teammates chimes in. “You’ve been a lock for the league before you ever got here.”

Logan nods, cracking open his beer. “We’re headed to the bar to celebrate, but I’m guessing you’ve got other plans.”

I don’t bother denying it. They all know exactly where I’m going.

I just chuckle, shaking my head as I make my way toward the stairs. “You’d assume correctly.”

“Tell Madison we say hey,” Logan calls after me, amusement thick in his voice.

I don’t even turn around as I climb the stairs two at a time, stripping off my hoodie the second I hit the hallway.

Shower first. Then, I’m headed straight to my girl.

I take the stairs two at a time, my pulse kicking up with every step. I’m exhausted, running on barely any sleep, but none of that matters. The only thing I care about right now is her.

I shove my bedroom door open, already reaching for the hem of my shirt⁠—

And stop dead in my tracks.

She’s here, sitting on my bed, curled up against my pillows. Her hair is damp like she just got out of the shower, loose strands falling around her face as she looks up at me. She’s wearing one of my hoodies—the same one she stole months ago, the sleeves bunched around her fists—and a pair of shorts mostly hidden beneath the fabric.

Just like that, my exhaustion evaporates.

I don’t know how long I stand there, just taking her in, but eventually, she tilts her head, a slow, knowing smile pulling at her lips. “Hey, stranger,” she murmurs.

A deep exhale leaves my lungs, and I can’t fight the grin stretching across my face. “Hey, beautiful.”

She shifts, sitting up a little straighter, her eyes tracing over me like she’s memorizing every inch. “How was your trip?”

I step inside, shutting the door behind me before dropping my bag to the floor. “It was great,” I say honestly, kicking off my shoes and making my way to her. “Felt like everything clicked, but…” I trail off, letting my eyes rake over her. “This? Coming home to you? Even better.”

Her cheeks flush, and it does something to me, knowing something so simple can make her blush.

I cross the room, stopping at the edge of the bed, and she tilts her chin up to meet my gaze. “You didn’t have to wait for me,” I murmur, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face.

Madison exhales, her fingers twitching against the hem of my hoodie like she’s nervous. “I know.” She swallows, her hazel eyes flickering with something I can’t quite place. “But I wanted to.”

Her breath is warm against my neck, her body molding into mine like she was made to fit there. The second my hands settle on her waist, I feel her exhale, her fingers slipping beneath the hem of my t-shirt, skating lightly against my skin. I tilt my head, brushing my nose against hers, savoring the way her lashes flutter as she looks at me.

Then, I’m kissing her.

Soft at first, just the slow, deliberate press of my lips against hers. But the second she sighs into my mouth, her fingers gripping my sides, I’m gone.

I cup her jaw, tilting her face as I deepen the kiss, taking my time, drinking her in after too many days apart. The taste of her, the warmth of her, the way she makes the ache in my chest disappear with just a simple touch—it’s everything.

Her hands slide higher, palms pressed to my stomach, and I groan against her lips, my body reacting before my brain can catch up.

I want her.

God, do I want her.

But there’s also the fact that I’ve been traveling all day, sitting through flights and interviews, and I’m painfully aware of how not fresh I feel.

I press one last, lingering kiss against her lips before pulling back, my forehead resting against hers as I catch my breath.

She blinks up at me, her hazel eyes hazy and lips pink and swollen. “What?” she murmurs, fingers still teasing the edge of my shirt.

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Baby, I’d love nothing more than to keep going,” I rasp, running my thumb along her jaw. “But I really need a shower.”

She smirks, dragging her fingers along my stomach just to make me suffer. “Oh, I don’t mind a little sweat.”

I groan, tipping my head back, gripping her hips to keep myself from throwing her down on the bed and proving just how much she tests me. “Mads…”

She giggles, finally relenting, shifting off my lap. “Fine, fine.” She tugs the hoodie over her knees, eyes playful. “But hurry up.”

I grin, dropping a quick kiss to her forehead before backing toward the bathroom. “Don’t go anywhere,” I murmur, letting my eyes roam over her one last time.

I have every intention of making up for lost time.

Just as soon as I don’t smell like an airport.

—-

I take the fastest shower of my damn life.

Soap. Shampoo. Rinse. Done.

I barely bother with a towel, dragging it over my hair and wrapping it around my waist before stepping back into my room, already picturing Madison’s lips when she told me to hurry up.

But when I walk out, a teasing remark dies on my tongue.

She’s curled up in my bed, tucked beneath my sheets, her breathing slow and even. One arm is tucked under her pillow, the other resting near my side of the bed, fingers slightly curled, like she had every intention of staying awake but sleep won.

I pause, standing in the doorway, something warm and unfamiliar twisting in my chest.

She’s really here. After everything—after all the running, all the nights I spent wondering if I’d ever get her back—she’s here.

In my bed. In my life. Mine.

A soft chuckle escapes me as I shake my head, grabbing a pair of sweats from my drawer before tossing the towel and climbing in beside her.

She shifts slightly when the mattress dips, her body instinctively moving toward mine, her fingers grazing my stomach as she exhales softly.

I can’t help but smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face, letting my fingers linger on her skin.

I never thought I’d get this, never thought I’d get to call her mine again.

But I do.

And I’ll spend every single day making damn sure she never doubts it.