Chapter 87
Chapter 87
She glanced around, then back at him.
“You can sit,” Margaux said, gesturing vaguely toward the couch. “We can watch a movie.”
William crossed the room and sat at the opposite end, careful not to crowd her. He leaned back, one ankle resting over his knee, posture relaxed but attentive.
“Don’t feel like talking?” he asked.
Margaux blinked. “You do?”
“There are things to talk about,” William pointed out calmly.
She let out a breath and stared at the dark TV screen. “You scare me, sometimes.”
He smiled—not sharp, not amused. Curious. “Why?”
She hesitated, fingers twisting together in her lap. “Why be so direct?” she said finally. “It’s… unsettling.”
William chuckled softly. “For your profession, you suck at opening up.”
“Coaches don’t play,” she shot back automatically.
He tilted his head. “You think you sounded smarter than you did.”
“I definitely sounded very smart.”
“Not in a million years.”
She scoffed. “It’s your ego getting in the way of things.”
“Yeah, right,” William said, rolling his eyes. Then, more seriously, “So. What’s your take on all this?”
She turned to look at him.
“You want to go slow? Fast?” he continued. “You want a boyfriend? You don’t?”
Margaux choked on her own spit.
“Too many questions, Mister,” she coughed, pressing a fist lightly to her chest.
William laughed, the sound warm and unguarded.
Silence followed—thick but not uncomfortable. They just looked at each other, the space between them humming with things neither was quite saying yet.
“I’m waiting for an answer, Margaux,” he reminded her gently.
She looked away, eyes dropping to her hands. “I want easy,” she said quietly.
“Easy,” he echoed.
“Like right now,” she went on, voice softening. “Meeting up. Talking. Ki—” she cut herself off with a shake of her head, flustered. “I don’t know. All that nice stuff.”
“Mhm,” William nodded, absorbing it. “You’re up for a relationship?”
Her eyes widened. She turned to him fully. “Is this your way of asking me—”
“No,” he interrupted, gentle but firm. “I’m asking you in general. No person in mind. Are you ready? Do you want one? Any concerns?”
Margaux opened her mouth to answer—
Then her cheeks flamed red.
A smile broke through despite her best efforts, and she groaned softly, covering her face with both hands. “This is so awkward.”
“It’s not,” William said. “You’re making it awkward.”
She peeked at him through her fingers. “I don’t like this dynamic we have. You asking questions and me just… answering.” She lowered her hands. “I want to know what you’re thinking too.”
William didn’t hesitate.
“I want a relationship with you, Margaux.”
The words landed quietly. No flourish. No pressure. Just truth.
She froze.
Her breath caught, eyes searching his face like she was bracing for something to crack—but all she found was steadiness. Vulnerability, even.
He held her gaze. Didn’t soften it. Didn’t retreat.
“I’m not asking you to decide tonight,” he added. “I just don’t want to pretend I’m anything less than serious.”
Margaux swallowed hard, her heart thudding loud in her ears. And she did exactly as her body felt like doing.
The distance between them vanished as Margaux crossed the couch and curled into his side, fitting there like she’d always known the shape of him. William pivoted instinctively, accepting the intimacy with an ease that felt almost reverent. His arm came around her shoulders, solid and warm, pulling her close until her cheek rested against his chest.
She exhaled there, slow and full, listening to the steady rhythm beneath his ribs.
“I want you in my life,” she said quietly.
William stilled just enough for her to feel it.
“In all of it,” she added, lifting her head to look at him now. There was no hesitation in her voice—only certainty, bright and unapologetic. “The good parts. The messy parts. The parts where I overthink everything and pretend I don’t.”
A smile tugged at his mouth, softer than she’d ever seen it.
She hesitated for half a second, then added, almost conspiratorially, “My parents can wait to meet you though. I don’t want them all up in my business.”
That did it.
William laughed—low, genuine, the sound vibrating against her cheek. “Okay,” he said, amused. “That’s more than fair.”
He tightened his arm around her slightly, his thumb brushing slow, absent-minded circles against her shoulder. “I’m not in a rush to be interrogated over brunch anyway.”
She smiled, the tension easing out of her shoulders.
Then William noticed it—the slight pause, the way her eyes shifted like a thought had just landed fully formed.
“Also,” she said, tilting her head back to look at him, “not meeting your parents either. The last thing I want is to meet your dad again.”
William laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. “Fair. Completely fair.”
She huffed softly. “Once was plenty.”
He glanced down at her, expression softening. “You carried yourself great tonight.”
Margaux let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a confession. “I felt like puking after.”
“That tracks,” he said dryly.
She nudged his side lightly. “It wasn’t funny.”
“I know,” he replied, smiling anyway. “But it’ll get easier.”
She was quiet for a moment, cheek resting back against his chest. “I hope.”
William didn’t rush to reassure her with big promises. He just tightened his arm around her slightly, his thumb continuing those slow, absent-minded circles against her shoulder—grounding, steady.
“It doesn’t have to be all at once,” he said finally. “We’ll take it as it comes.”
Margaux closed her eyes, letting the rhythm of his breathing guide hers.