Page 143 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)
“No, but it doesn’t hurt to try.”
“Don’t get my hopes up like that.” Scarlett sighed and took a sip of her sake. She glanced around, her expression turning wistful. Dusk had deepened into the full inkiness of night, and we were so high up that we couldn’t even hear the traffic below. “It’s so beautiful here. I wish we could stay longer.”
Regret twinged in my gut. We were flying back tomorrow so we could make it to London before Vincent, but I wished we could stay longer too.
“We can always come back,” I said. “It’s only a flight away.”
“I know.” She toyed with her silverware. “But it won’t be the same.”
I remained quiet.
I knew what she meant. I felt it too—the impending curtain call on our summer, heavy velvet drapes descending to divide our lives into “us” and “us and them.”
Once we told Vincent on Monday, our relationship didn’t belong to just us anymore. It belonged to everyone else too. Everyone would have opinions, and we couldn’t escape them if we tried.
“Before we leave, I do have something I want to talk to you about.” Scarlett ran a finger over the etchings on her fork and avoided my eyes.
“Okay.” I strove for a neutral expression, but I had a feeling I knew what she wanted to discuss.
We’d agreed to an exclusive non-relationship when we started dating. We basicallywerein a relationship, but she didn’t want to be hemmed in by the label, so I hadn’t pushed the issue.
However, if we were telling Vincent about us soon, it would make sense to redefine our status. Right?
My heart crawled into my throat while I waited for her to continue.
“I…” Scarlett finally met my eyes, her expression alive with nerves. “I know we’ve been dating without a real label, but it’s almost the end of summer so I was thinking we could maybe make it official? It would be easier when we’re explaining things to Vincent,” she rushed out. “To tell him we’re boyfriend and girlfriend instead of this weirdnon-boyfriend and girlfriend thing we have going on.”
“Scarlett.” I placed my forearms on the table and leaned forward. “Do you want us to be official because of Vincent or because you want to?”
My question hung in the charged air, held aloft by the thundering beats of my heart.
A second passed.
Two.
Then… “Because I want to.”
Scarlett’s soft admission dispelled the breath from my lungs. I leaned back, relief a cool balm for the knot in my gut. “Then we’re official.”
“Just like that.”
“Just like that.” I looked at her, this beautiful, incredible woman whom I never would’ve expected would turn my world upside down, and marveled that she was mine. The universe knew what it was doing after all. “I’ve been here since day one, darling. I was simply waiting for you to join me.”
Scarlett’s smile spread so wide and warm I felt it all the way in my bones.
“I haven’t had an official boyfriend in years, so this is exciting,” she said. “Does this mean you’ll hold my bag and let me borrow your shirts to sleep in because men’s shirts arealwaysmore comfortable than women’s, for some reason?”
“The shirts, yes. The bag, depends. If you have as much shit in it as the day we met, then no.” I raised a brow. “I’m a top athlete, you know. I have to conserve my strength.”
I laughed when she kicked me under the table.
“My old therapist would be proud of me.” Scarlett slid her pendant along its chain. “She said healing wasn’t just about closing the door on my past. It was about allowing myself to open one for the future too. We worked a lot on my trust issues after Rafael. If it weren’t for her, I’d carry a lot more resentment than I do now.”
I noted the past tense of her words. “You don’t see her anymore?”
She shook her head. “Some people fold therapy into their daily lifestyle, but I got to a good place. However, I know I can always call her if I need to, even if I hate asking for help.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”