Page 97 of The Catch

Saint

It's been a week and a half since I made myself into a sacrificial lamb and offered myself as Ames' rebound. I'm sore from training and from how much sex she and I are having, but I do my best to keep myself focused.

Ames has been vocal about what she wants. I agreed to the guidelines. No matter what my heart cries for when I hold her close at night. Even if I wanted to beg for something different from the moment we talked the morning after. She and I have an understanding, it's what I wanted before I knew she wanted me, and I'm supposed to be on cloud nine.

And I am. I really am. I've never devoted myself to someone like I am with Ames. I've thrown myself into this time together, taking as much as she'll trust me with. It may be my poor yearning heart, seeing things it wants to see, but I swear she's giving me everything. I see it in her eyes. In the way she touches me, the things she whispers to me in the throes of passion, or in the quiet times before we sleep. Surrender. Abdication. Pleading.

It's bringing me to my knees.

Shewants me.

Shewantsme.

She wantsme.

The guy she's known for years. A man she's had a hundred platonic meals with. The friend she came to when she was in need.

But I'm dreading how quickly the days are adding up. I don't want to think of the moment Ames realizes I'm not rushing to end things. That despite accepting the role she wants me to play— the womanizer who will be happy to walk away from this fling— someone who can teach her how to give up on long term when things are not right for her— I am not ready to press the brakes on whatever this is we're doing.

We said right before or right after the big game.

The truth is, short of it slapping me in the face and pushing me out of the way, I'm aiming to buy us extra time. Even if it terrifies me to try.

Try what? I don't know. The teacher has no idea what he's doing.

Balancing our days and nights with the promises I made is always on my mind. Even while I'm on the phone with my sisters.

I sit on the terrace couch and watch the sun set behind Lake Washington. At ten years old, Aixa and Maribel are a hoot. They talk over me, too excited to let me properly respond, beyond a few chuckles here and there and a few rushed words.

They tell me about their school projects and anything else that crosses their mind, etching a persistent smile onto my face.

"We started collecting materials for the new board!" Aixa says. "You promised next year we could make it pink."

"I did say that," I concede.

Maribel speaks before I've finished. "Are you getting your ring this time?"

"Of course he is!" Aixa responds for me. "We talked about this, Mari."

She's exactly two hundred seventy four seconds older than Maribel, and takes her older sister role seriously.

"I'm not pressuring him!" Mari complains. "I'm just doing the math for his first visit."

Typically, I go spend time with them right after the season ends, and once more after they finish their school year. Pre-season schedule permitting, I try to take them somewhere fun, too.

My time with them is precious. I've never lived with them, since they were born right after I started college. The relationship we have is the result of a lot of effort on my part. I try to be present from far away, reminding them I'm their older brother, and that I love them very much.

Time is flying past so fast, their eagerness to spend time with me may not last much longer. I'm making the most of it. I'll deal with the heartbreak later.

Funny, that this philosophy applies to what's between Ames and I as well.

Except with the twins, I know they can't actually get rid of me. With Ames, she could, and I'm facing an end I worry about. Planning to deal with that pain afterwards, somehow.

I shake my head and I take a chance during a small silent window in Aixa and Maribel's conversation.

"I'll let you know as soon as I have a date," I interject. "I'm not sure what I may have to do after the season ends."

"What do you mean?" Aixa asks.