Hell, he felt like crying. This was just…unbelievable.
Despite the mass quantity of bodies out on the field, despite trying his damnedest to focus on the questions the interviewer was asking him, a weird, prickling sensation started at the back of Flynn’s neck. Like someone was watching him, which was ridiculous because everyone in the freaking free world was currently watching him.
Slowly he turned his head and glanced over his shoulder to find Aubrey standing not twenty feet from him, looking unsure. Looking beautiful.
She wore his jersey. His number was on the front, and she had on skintight jeans that made her legs look impossibly long. She smiled shyly, hope shining in her eyes, and without thought, he reached out and clutched the reporter by the shoulder, giving him a squeeze, effectively cutting off the interview before it had really even started.
“It’s been an honor, man, but I gotta go. My girl is waiting for me,” he said just before he turned and walked away from the reporter, ignoring the other reporters on the field as they shouted his name, continued to shout questions at him.
He didn’t care. He had eyes only for Aubrey.
“Flynn, you need to go back and finish that interview. You just played an amazing game. Your fans want to hear what you have to say,” she said when he stopped right in front of her.
She was always working, his sweet little publicist. The sudden tension that had been in his chest slowly eased, and he took another step toward her, damn near invading her space. “There’s only one fan I need to hear what I have to say, and that’s you.”
“Flynn—”
“Hear me out. I played the most important game of my life today, but it doesn’t matter unless I know I have you by my side. You’re everything to me, my entire world.” Her eyes glinted with tears, and that was the last thing he wanted to see. “You look damn good, Aub.”
She blinked away the tears, her smile growing. “I’ve got team spirit.”
“You’re wearing my number.” His voice was low as he studied her chest, fascinated by the rapid rise and fall of her breasts beneath his jersey.
“I am.” She took a deep breath. “You like it?”
“You put it on after you found out I was playing?”
She slowly shook her head. “I put it on first thing this morning. I, um, wanted to show you my support.”
“And show everybody that you’re my girl?” He wanted her back. He needed her back. This was his day. She wouldn’t turn him down. “Did you mean what you said that afternoon? That it was real for you, too? Every bit of it?”
“Yes. It was, Flynn. It still is.” Aubrey wavered a little bit on her feet, like her knees had just gone weak. “I wanted everyone to know that I’m your girl, especially you,” she admitted softly. “For real.”
With zero hesitation, he swung her into his arms, spinn
ing her around and making her squeal. Before she could utter a protest, he sealed his mouth over hers, kissing her long and hard. Putting every bit of love he felt for this woman into the kiss until he finally broke away from her to find her staring up at him with stars in her eyes.
“Wow,” she breathed. “I guess that means you forgive me?”
“When you show up at a game, wearing my number, you’re forgiven,” he said as he slowly dropped her to her feet, his arms still firmly around her waist. “And I was an idiot, not to listen to what you really said,” he admitted, his voice low. “I’m so damn sorry for being a stubborn ass.”
“I’m sorry too,” she said, then tipped her head in the direction of the herd of reporters just behind him. “They’re all waiting for you.”
“I don’t care.” He bent over her, pressing his forehead to hers. “I missed you, Aub.”
She smiled tremulously. “I missed you, too.”
“We just won the freaking Super Bowl,” he said, sounding like a little kid, but he couldn’t help it. Life couldn’t get much better than this.
“I know.” She laughed. “I watched you. You were amazing.”
“The team was amazing,” he corrected. “Did you see the way Hamilton caught that ball? Unbelievable.”
“Did you see the way you threw that ball? Unbelievable,” she mimicked softly.
“Yeah, it was pretty awesome.” He went solemn as he remembered why he was playing the game in the first place. “How’s Sheridan? Do you know?”
“She’s okay. She’s been put on bed rest.” Her voice dropped to a bare whisper. “She’s pregnant. With twins.”