Charlene tucks her head under my chin, a shiver ripping through her. At first I think it’s the aftermath of such a powerful, drawn-out orgasm, or maybe she’s cold. I try to shift away so I can tuck us under the covers, but she mumbles no against my neck and tightens her hold.

“Let me get a warm cloth so I can make you more comfortable,” I murmur against her temple, once again trying to extricate myself.

She clings tighter and shakes her head, shuddering again.

I pull back enough so I can see her face, but she twists her head away, tucking her chin against her shoulder, eyes screwed up tight.

“Are you okay?” I stroke her cheek, hoping to calm her, but her lips twist as if she’s fighting whatever emotions are swimming to the surface, ones she’s clearly trying to hide.

“I’m fine,” she whispers brokenly, still not looking at me.

“You seem the opposite of fine.”

“I need a minute. Please.”

I don’t know what to make of this reaction, or the way she’s clinging to me. This isn’t typical Charlene behavior, and I don’t know how to handle it.

A tiny whimper hums across my throat.

“Did I hurt you?” I don’t think I did. I’m always extraordinarily careful with Charlene.

She shakes her head into my shoulder, which should be a relief, but the fact that she’s breaking down emotionally after sex seems bad. The sound of her pain tears at my heart, her ache my own.

I want to be better at this, at caring for someone. A wave of emotion slams into me, the kind I’ve guarded against my entire life. I shift her body so I can sit up and keep her in my lap. She wraps her legs around my waist, arms locked around my shoulders with her face buried against the crook of my neck.

She feels like she could break apart in my arms, and I’m forced to finally accept the truth I’ve been hiding from: I’m in love with Charlene, and have been for a very long time.

Jesus. I’m so emotionally stunted by my fucked-up family, I couldn’t even recognize love until it punched me in the face.

I rub circles on Charlene’s back with one hand and smooth my free palm over the back of her head. “Breathe, baby,” I murmur in her ear and press my lips to her temple. “Let me make it better.”

She sucks in a high-pitched breath, and I worry I’m making it worse. Eventually she seems to calm, and then her lips find that sensitive space behind my ear. She trails kisses up my neck and along the edge of my jaw.

For a moment I’m confused, until I realize her mouth is meant to be a distraction. It almost works.

I cup her face in my hands and lift, forcing her to look at me. Charlene’s eyes are red rimmed, her cheeks flushed, and her expression is pure panic.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. I want you again.” She tries to come back to my mouth, but I hold her still.

“What is this about?” I smooth away her tears.

“That was intense. Today was intense.”

“And that’s the only reason for the tears?” I press. “I need you to talk to me, Charlene.”

“I waited all day for you.” She sighs and lifts her gaze, vulnerability leaking through. “I know the game was stressful for you, and it’s the same for me. You wanted me on edge, and I was. I was worried and anxious. It was a lot.”

I still think she’s leaving things out, purposely or not, so I try to pull them out of her however I can. “What exactly are you worried about?”

“I don’t know. Everything? You? What you’re not telling me.”

I sigh. I’m going to have to give to get here. “My stats are too high, and I’m getting too much attention. I don’t like it, and I don’t want it. But I don’t have a choice, and I won’t tank our team because I dislike the press I’m getting.”

She blinks a few times, maybe stunned that I’m being so forthcoming for once. It’s about fucking time, I suppose. Buying her new clothes and nice things only goes so far. I have to let her into my head if I want her to let me into hers.

“Now can you tell me why you’re so upset, other than the fact that I’m an asshole for having kept you on the edge all day?”

Her fingers go to her pearls. “Now I feel stupid.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re worried about your team, and I’m worried about myself.”

I want to erase the sadness that pulls her mouth down. I want to take the ache away. “Trust me when I tell you it’s not just my team I’m worried about, Charlene. I’m not that selfless.”

“What else are you worried about?”

I shake my head, aware this is yet another diversion tactic. “Not understanding why you’re so upset.”