Losing to Win by Michele Grant Page B

swear to you, Carissa Melody Wayne, on my mother: I did not cheat. I was an asshole, not a scoundrel.”
    She considered for a moment and then nodded.
    â€œAnything else?”
    She took a deep breath and it was her turn to look me squarely in the eye. “When are you going back?”
    â€œWhere? To Houston?”
    She rolled her eyes again. “To the NFL, Mal. When’s your tryout?”
    I shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d connected the dots, but I was. “How did you know?”
    â€œI know you, Mal. And at your core, you’re a football player. You can’t help but give it one more try. You haven’t given up the dream yet.”
    She always understood me better than most. “My tryout’s in August.”
    â€œGood luck,” she said simply and slid off the stool to place her empty bottle in a recycling container in the pantry.
    â€œDo you mean it?” After everything we’d been and done to each other, I still wanted her approval. She was Carissa. It was as simple and as complicated as that.
    â€œI do. I know how bad you want it. I hope you get a chance to win the ring.”
    I’d gotten this far; I decided to wade in a little deeper. “What will this do to us?”
    She spun around quickly. “Us? What us? What are we?”
    I stood up and walked toward her. “I don’t know what we are exactly, but I don’t think we’re done.”
    â€œMy life is here. With the money from this ridiculous show, I’m going to start that college prep and mentoring program for teens. I’m going to fix up this house, finish the garden. I’m going to help Ruby expand the restaurant. I’m going to—”
    â€œI got it. You have plans. Right here. Plans that don’t include me anymore.” I took a step closer. “What if I wanted to be part of those plans?” I put my hands on her shoulders and drew her against me. She was stiff, but she wasn’t pushing me away. After a few minutes, I felt her relax and lean into me.
    â€œIn what way, exactly?”
    â€œI don’t know, Carissa. But what if I wanted back in your life, in some form or capacity. What would you say to that?”
    â€œI’d say it’s going to be some time before I allow myself to care about what you want again.”
    That stung, but I wrapped my arms around her and held tight. “Okay, what about what you want? Have you missed me at all? Just a little bit? Maybe at night sometimes when you’re listening to Maxwell before you go to sleep? You still do that?”
    She leaned back and looked up at me. “What are you doing, Mal?”
    â€œTesting something. I’m curious. I wonder . . . Just let me check something right quick, okay?” Before she could answer, I leaned down and covered her lips with mine. I pressed once and then twice before coaxing her mouth open. We both groaned as our tongues meshed together. It was like coming home after a long journey and finding it better than you remember. We slowly rediscovered the licks and laps that took our breath away. I’d forgotten how small she was against me. How soft. God, she smelled good. She felt good. Her perfect lips and tongue teased mine and awakened sensations long dormant. We slid into each other with comfort, delight, and hunger. Everything was familiar, yet different. One thing hadn’t changed: one taste of Carissa Wayne and I wanted more. I wanted everything she had to give.
    Her arms slid around my middle and up my back as I pulled her even closer. Christ, it was like she was made to fit perfectly in my arms. Had it always felt this way... so destined? God, she smelled good, like vanilla and flowers. Pressed against me, she felt amazing. Why had I ever let this go?
    Without breaking the kiss, I backed her against the counter and slid my hand down her side, curving around her rear and down her thigh. I cupped the back of her knees and