Cliché with a player

Chapter 41 - Couch

I get up, carefully not to wake Max, who is sleeping soundly on the other side of the bed. His brown hair fall to his forehead almost reaching his brows and I gently swipe them back in their place.

He's been my rock for three years, ever since we met in a coffee shop and he'd offered to pay for my order when I realised I'd forgotten my wallet at home.

At that point Matt and I weren't together anymore for two years, and I'd moved on.

He fulfilled his dream of having a professional basketball career, now being NBA's hottest player. I am proud of all that he achieved, of the life he built for himself, the one he had always dreamt about.

I take a glass from the cabinet overhead and pour myself some water. I know I'll have to go pee afterwards but my throat is as dry as the Sahara Desert.

A familiar set of arms wrap themselves around my waist. "What has you up at this hour? Can't sleep again?" Max softly kisses my temple.

I turn around in his arms and smile. "I'm fine. Just thirsty."

His eyes glint mischievously when he lifts me on the kitchen counter and starts kissing my collarbone.

"What are you doing?" I ask in between giggles.

"I thought you said you were thirsty."

Laughing, I gently smack his shoulder, "Not in that way, you dirty man!"

Max gives me one last kiss then helps me hop off.

"Seriously, what's bothering you?"

I hug him around the waist and lean my head on his chest. "The past," I sigh.

His hand starts stroking my head. He lets my ponytail loose, ruffling my hair and massaging my scalp. "You're too tense. Come, sit."

We sit on the couch and he pulls me into his lap. "Talk to me, beautiful."

I take a moment to relax — which is never hard when I'm with him — to collect my thoughts, then breathe out, "You remember what I've told you about my family?"

I feel him nod against my head. "Mhm."

"That. That's what I'm thinking about."

He thinks for a moment, then hugs me tightly. "I understand your pain, you know I do, and I know these things take a long time to heal, if ever, but I think it's time you leave them behind. Before you say anything," he says as I draw my breath to object, "I'm not saying you aren't trying or moving in that direction, I'm simply saying you worry too much about people that aren't even a part of your life anymore. I know the lesser stings like a bitch, but I also know you are way too good for them — as cruel as it is to say that about your family — and anyone would be lucky to have you. I'm lucky to get to hold you."

I grab his forearms, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"I'll help you with whatever you need, Laken."

"I know." He's right.

"I love you."

"I love you too, beautiful."

I tilt my head back to look at him and he kisses me on my lips. "Is there anything else you need to talk about? Anything else that's been occupying space in that brilliant head of yours?"

"No," I smile and mean it. If you don't count a particular green eyed basketball player.

Max picks me up swiftly and carries me bridal-style to our bedroom while I laugh and shower him with kisses.