Eloquent? When had she ever used big words with him? He threw his shirt aside, not caring if he was making a mess. “Babe, talk to me.”
Her inhale was loud and harsh in the room. “You were incredible. I was…so proud of you. Adam would be too. And your parents.”
He had to swallow the lump in his throat. His parents hadn’t asked to come, intuiting that he needed to do this on his own. Plus, there had been Natalie to consider. It would have felt awkward for them to stay at his house with her next door. He knew she would have felt obligated to come over, and since she’d wanted to keep her family out of their relationship for the moment, he’d figured it would be best for him to do the same. Maybe next year…
“I sent my folks a lot of texts to keep them updated,” he told her, pushing his shorts down his legs and kicking free of them.
Her gaze dropped to her hands, and he could feel it. She wasn’t in the mood to make love either. If only he knew why.
“I’m going to shower,” he said and fled to the bathroom.
Usually he showered at his place unless they showered together. He used her shampoo and conditioner like usual. Her soap. Even the toothbrush he used from the guest stash she kept under the sink seemed to highlight all the ways in which they were still separate.
His heart was heavy when he climbed into bed beside her. It had elated him to see her stride across the field to him earlier that day. But now he felt as deflated as a leaky party balloon.
Her lamp was already off. Usually they kept the ones by the bed on as they made love. They loved to look at each other, to deepen their connection by staring into each other’s eyes while they were joined. He reached over to switch his lamp off too.
All the other nights he’d stayed over, they’d made love, but tension seemed to pour into the room like sand. He didn’t take her into his arms, unsure of how she’d react. He could feel how rigid she was on her side of the bed. She didn’t cuddle close. They both lay there on their backs, their hands folded over their chests. The two feet between them might have been a thousand miles.
The silence lengthened. He knew every shade of her breath, so he could tell she was as awake as he was. The disquiet in him grew until the pressure in his chest, as powerful as Jordan’s boa constrictor, squeezed the words out of him.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked in a level tone that was at odds with the pounding of his heart.
She didn’t respond right away. Only pulled the sheet higher over her chest. “You’d be a great coach. I could see that today.”
As a response, it was totally unsatisfying, like lukewarm bathwater on a cold day. He turned onto his side to face her.
“Okay… Why do I get the sense that’s not a good thing?” he asked, his eyes making out the shape of her face in the dark.
She sighed and turned to look at him. “You miss football.”
He wanted to inch closer to her or take her hand. “Of course I do.”
“Blake, I know the high school offered you a coaching position and you turned it down.”
He’d been right to think Cormack wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. “It wasn’t right for me.”
“You can’t stay here indefinitely, putting off your life. There’s nothing for you here career-wise. Football is your passion. It’s what you were meant to do. I can’t bear…to be the reason you’re not playing ball when you clearly still love it so much. You have a few more years left to give to the sport.”
Were they back to this? “Dammit, I left football to prove to you that you were more important.”
“And now I know it. But you’re too important to me for me to let you do something that’s not satisfying for you.”
That eased some of his distress. “Natalie—”
“What’s supposed to happen next? You’re just supposed to live in this small town with nothing to do?”
“I have been doing things. I’ve been preparing for this camp, and I’ve been consulting with Special Olympics.” Her prickliness grated on his skin. “I plan on fashioning the kind of job I want here once I decide what that is.”
“But there’s no football here, Blake. Not beyond high school, and you turned that job down. Maybe you really do want to leave, but you haven’t been willing to admit that to yourself. Aren’t all the offers you’ve received somewhere else?” she asked, the strain in her voice evident.
His sigh was audible in the dark. “Yes, they are. And I don’t have some unconscious agenda here about leaving. Let me say it again. I want to stay with you in Dare Valley, and I will find something I love to do here.”
She punched her pillow before lying back down. “So, you’re going to what? Commute long-distance?”