She hands me the charm necklace, and I loop it around her neck, clasping it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the phone cameras go wild. Pretty sure they’ve been going wild this whole time.
Works for me.
This moment is as real as all the other ones—the Whac-A-Mole game, the walk after the charity event, the kiss on the beach.
But this one is the start of the real us.
My heart beats faster as I move in closer. Then my lips are on hers, and I kiss the woman I love.
But not for long. We have a tour to do.
When I break the kiss, she’s smiling like she has a secret.
“What’s that for?” I ask.
“Oh, I just love you too,” she says. Then she clears her throat, and meets the eyes of the press, who’ve caught all this on camera. “Let me show you the locker room first.”
Just like that, we give a tour of the stadium together.
When it’s over, she grabs my hand, pulls me into a stairwell, and kisses me hard. “I can’t believe you showed up here like that.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t show up three days ago. I’m so sorry,” I say, wishing I could have gotten my act together. “And I’ll keep saying that. You deserve to hear it. You deserve everything good in the world, Brooke.”
Shaking her head, she presses her finger to my lips. “We’re good. No groveling is necessary. I get it.”
My heart thumps harder. She’s too good to me. “You really do?”
“Drew, you had a great start to the season. You had all sorts of luck, but it came from talent and hard work. Then you had one rough game. But you blamed yourself when the reality is…it’s just football.”
That’s what I started realizing the other day in the locker room with my guys. But hearing her say that means a lot to me too. That’s another form of luck—when the person you love completely understands you.
“Took me a while to figure that out,” I say.
“You were doing a lot. You’ve taken on a ton of extra responsibilities. It can be overwhelming. Just know I’m here for you. And I know you’ll do great this weekend,” she says, then studies my face. Her eyes are full of question marks. “Didn’t you get my message?”
She sent me one? Of course she fucking did because she’s awesome. “I didn’t look at my phone. I was in such a rush to get here and see you.” I grab it from my pocket and click on it, reading words she sent a little while ago.
Streaks never last. It’s the very nature of streaks to end. But I believe in you as an athlete and as a man. You’ve handled this season so far with grace and confidence, and I know you’ll keep doing it.
My heart thunders. “I don’t deserve you. But I want to deserve you.” Then I kiss her again, reveling in the sweet taste of her lips, the scent of her hair, the feel of her in my arms once more.
She kisses me back tenderly, as if she’s delighting in this kiss too. Like she’s savoring every second of us coming back together.
But I’m also getting turned on, so I end it. “I should go, or I might try to hike up your skirt here in the stairwell.”
She wiggles a brow. Such a naughty woman. “I probably wouldn’t stop you.”
I groan, wanting that badly. “All the more reason for me to take off. So I can get you off later. When do you finish work?”
“In a couple of hours.”
It feels like an eternity. “Can I bury my face between your legs then?”
She smiles. “Only if you have a soundtrack for me.”
That evening, I’m in my favorite place. On Brooke’s bed, my hands sliding along her soft thighs as I devour her, making her lose her mind to pleasure.
She arches and writhes against me, swearing like a dirty woman who loves sex.