When I Need You (Need You #4)

“Yeah.” After Jensen had tossed that in my face, I’d finally understood the lengths he’d go to, to convince me to take a chance on him . . . on us.

“Besides, he’s off IR as of today.”

I wanted to jump up and down and squeal with joy. “Omigod, does he know?”

“He found out at the end of practice.” Dante grinned. “He’ll want to celebrate that with you.” His smile faded. “Or maybe not, because he will be pissed when he hears about you getting—”

“No.” I got right in his face. “Don’t you dare tell him about the suspension. I mean it. I’ve never asked you for anything, but I am begging you. Do whatever you can to keep this from him. He needs to focus on his game, on his career, on finally getting to do what he loves. I love him too much to let him put that in jeopardy because of me.” I grabbed his arm. “Please. Promise me you won’t tell him.”

“Rowan—”

“Promise me, Dante.”

“Fine. I promise. But how are you going to keep this from him?”

“I’ll figure something out. He’ll be so busy that it won’t come up.”

“Wrong. He’ll notice when you aren’t on that field. He might not have seen you before, but he’ll be looking for you now.”

“I haven’t figured that part out yet.” I blew out a long breath. “Or what excuse I’ll tell Daisy. Because she isn’t the type to believe what I tell her or to let it go.”

Dante smiled. “Let me deal with Daisy, okay?” Then he hugged me. “I’m happy for you. Jensen is a good guy. Really. He deserves a woman like you.”

“A woman like me?”

“With a heart as big as his. I should’ve known you two would be perfect for each other.”

? ? ?


As much as I’d obsessed about how upset I’d be if I got fired from the team . . . when it actually happened? I was oddly calm.

Because you’re in shock.

Maybe. But I wasn’t going to dwell on it because I had major celebrating to do.

I unlocked the door to Jensen’s apartment and found my guys snuggled up, reading. They didn’t notice me at first, so I just leaned against the wall and watched them. Man and boy so comfortable with each other, so accepting of each other. It seemed so right, so natural, so normal a sight for me to come home to, and it always brought me joy and peace.

For a few moments, I stood and listened to Jensen’s smooth, expressive voice. I’d told him if the whole football thing fell through he could become an audiobook narrator. But it sounded like he wouldn’t have to worry about finding other employment.

Calder noticed me. “Mommy!” He popped up and held his arms out for a hug.

I squeezed him tight. “Hey, guys.”

“Pile in,” Jensen said reaching for me. “We’re almost done with this chapter.”

“You finish. I’m heading over to pour myself a glass of wine.”

Jens pinned me with a look. “Practice was okay?”

“It was short.” I looked around. “Where’s Martin?”

“He stepped out for some fresh air. He’ll be right back.”

“Gotcha.”

Calder slid down the cushion and nestled into Jensen.

Then they were lost in the book again.

In my apartment, I poured wine and wandered through the space. A space that had gotten pretty cluttered. We hadn’t decided which apartment to live in, so we sort of lived in both. And since Martin was still baching it, waiting for us to make a decision, his stuff was in both places too. Bob, the building complex manager, hadn’t gotten back to me about the empty apartments on the first floor. I couldn’t imagine that he wouldn’t want to rent to me.

I peeled off my clothes and stepped into the shower.

I heard him before I felt him. The man might be fast and agile on the football field, but stealth wasn’t his strong suit.

Then his callused hands were on my wet skin, the hands of a man who knew exactly how to touch me, the hands of the man who showed he loved me with every teasing, loving caress.

“Well, well, what do we have here? I thought we’d celebrate me getting cleared off the IR list with a glass of wine . . . but celebrating with a naked woman? I’ll take that.”

I spun around. “They cleared you?”

His grin was as wide as the Mississippi River. “Yep. I’m starting too. People who say preseason games are for scrubs can suck it.”

I laughed. “I’m so happy for you.”

He rested his forehead to mine. “I’m relieved, Ro. So fucking relieved I feel like I can breathe again.”

“I’ll bet.” I started sliding my hands across his chest because I could. Anytime I wanted. “Did you already tell your family members the good news?”

“Right away.” He leaned back to peer into my eyes. “Did I break a relationship rule?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you upset that I told them about it before I told you?”

“No, they’ve been waiting for this day. I’m sure they’re all celebrating.” I ran my hands down his spectacular arms. “Who else did you tell?”

“Calder. Who, by the way, is crashing at my place with Uncle Martin tonight.”

“You told Martin before you told me?”

“Yeah. He was there when I told Calder.”

“Anyone else?”

He gave me a sheepish smile. “I might’ve called my grandpa in Sweden.”

Sweet, sweet man.

“And I might’ve called Michael.”

“Michael,” I repeated. “As in my dad?”

“He’s a huge football fan, Coach. His daughter is banging The Rocket. He deserves the inside scoop.”

I stood on my toes and nipped Jensen’s chin. “You sure about the banging part? Because, dude, I’m like the twentieth person on the list.”

“More like twenty-second tonight. I told Astrid and uh . . . Bob.”

My hands stopped wandering. “Bob. As in . . . Bob the building manager?” I slapped my hands on his chest. “You told Bob before you told me? Seriously, Lund?”

“Hey, you said you weren’t gonna be mad.”

“I wasn’t gonna be mad that you told your family first. But you told Bob?”

Jensen actually backed up at the look in my eyes. “Wait. He’s a big fan—”

“I’m a big fan. I’m also seriously considering calling this off for unsportsmanlike conduct for excessive celebrating in the end zone. Premature celebrating.”

His eyes widened. “I’m sorry. Shit. So sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.” I pushed him against the back wall in the shower. “Because next time I want to hear it from you first, not Dante.”

“You knew?”

“Dante spilled the beans to me tonight before I left.”

“That big mouth.”

“Speaking of big mouth . . .” I kissed a path straight down his chest and dropped to my knees. “Anything else you want to talk about?”

“Not a damn thing.”

? ? ?


The following afternoon when I was at work, trying to figure out a plan to explain why I wasn’t at practice and why I probably wouldn’t be cheering at the game, I received a text message from Coach T: CT: You’ve been reinstated to the team. Practice at six tonight. DO NOT be late or you’re running extra laps.

My thumbs hovered over the keys as I was tempted to text WHY? What changed?

But that might be pushing it and I’d take the end result since that’s all that mattered.

Maybe I had convinced them that Jensen Lund and I really were only friends.





Twenty-five


JENSEN