Page 136 of First Shift

Cally’s eyes went wide, his already pale skin deathly white.

“Cal?” I whispered.

A second passed, and then another. And another again until Cally flung himself on top of me, buried his face in the crook of my neck … and started bawling.

His whole body shook, his wide shoulders heaving as he choked out wet, ragged sobs. Hot tears soaked my skin, sliding down to wet the pillow behind my head, his fingers digging into my side as if he was holding on for dear life.

I clamped my arms around his shoulders, wrestling my trapped legs out from under him—my hole protesting—until I could lock my ankles over the back of his thighs to anchor him to me.

I squeezed him tight and pressed my lips to the side of his head. “Hey, it’s okay,” I murmured, swiping one hand up and down his back, while the other cupped the back of his neck, my thumb brushing circles over the skin just below his ear. “I’ve got you. It’s okay. I’m here.”

I didn’t know if that was the right thing to say, or if it would only make things worse. So I kept on rocking him until his sobs tapered off into wet hitches which became snotty sniffles. The entire time I told him how much I loved him, that I was sorry for saying what I’d said, and promising to fix everything, if only he would let me.

After a while, his tears quieted and his breathing slowed, his body going heavy and lax against mine. When he finally lifted his head, wiping his nose on his bare arm, he blinked down at me with swollen, bloodshot eyes.

I untangled my legs and arms from around him and he rolled away, sucking in a deep, shuddering breath, and then another.

I turned onto my side with a slight wince, my body curling automatically toward him, my hand hovering in the narrow gap between us, my fingers twitching with the need to touch him again.

Doubt crept in, and I dropped my hand, dragging it back to scratch at the cum drying in the hair below my belly button.

“Fuck, Mikey,” he rasped, his voice ragged. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose it like that.”

“It’s okay,” I told him.

I mean, I hoped it was okay.

I still didn’t have any idea what the fuck had happened to set him off like that. This wasn’t the first time he’d freaked out like this (and given what I knew about his past, I figured it wouldn’t be the last), so I needed to learn how to guide him through it.

“What happened?”

What happened was I’d fucked up, tossing out a marriage proposal while I was still coming down from the afterglow of being well fucked. The last time I’d dropped a bomb on him like this during sex, he had nightmares for two weeks straight.

You’d think I would have learned my lesson.

Cally’s eyes dropped closed. “I’m sorry.”

I rolled onto my back, blowing out a harsh breath. “I don’t need your apologies.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But I don’t know what else to say.”

The fact that it didn’t occur to him to say yes or no was a pretty clear indication it wasn’t a yes.

I rolled off the bed, sweeping my hands blindly across the rug until my fingers snagged on my boxers. I started to pull them on before remembering my chest and stomach were tacky with drying cum.

“Jesus, fuck.” I snagged a throw blanket off the foot of the bed, swiping it roughly over my torso, then dragged my boxers up and jerked on my jeans. “So fucking stupid,” I muttered, my voice cracking. “Wanting to marry the first goddamn person you’ve ever had feelings for. What were you thinking?”

I spun around searching for my shirt—and froze when I came face to face with Cally standing in front of me, head tilted, his mouth open as if he’d started to speak but lost track of the words.

Too bad I knew exactly what I had to say.

I forced myself to hold his gaze. “I’ll go to Hendricks tomorrow and give him some story about needing to stay in Minnesota. I’ll quit so you don’t have to see me anymore.”

Walking away from the Marauders meant giving up the sport I’d devoted my whole life to. It meant putting my grandma’s medical care on the line—and I hated myself for choosing my proverbial heart before her literal one. But I couldn’t be in the same city as Cally—let alone on the same goddamn team, living in the same condo—knowing what it was like to love him and lose him.

I pressed my hand to the stabbing pain in my chest as Cally blurred in front of me, my sinuses stinging. Fuck. Now I was crying.

I swiped the back of my hands over my eyes, and when my vision cleared, Cally had put his boxers back on.