I am having the time of my life.
I grip her ass as I go down on her, determined to take her over the edge.
Seconds later, she’s gripping my skull and coming undone with a loud cry.
I slow my pace, kiss her once more, than wipe a hand across my mouth. When she blinks open her eyes, she looks dazed and blissed out. She takes out her ear buds. Smiles. Sighs. Flops her head back on the pillow. “Wow.”
“Wow to you,” I say, then press a kiss to her belly.
She laughs again, then pushes up on her elbows, wicked deeds in her eyes.
“My turn,” she says, so eager and hungry.
She is my woman. My perfect match.
“I like the sound of that.” But first I bring her close, kiss her cheek, then say, “You’re the streak I don’t want to break.”
EPILOGUE
ANY TIPS FOR ME?
Drew
Brooke comes to my game that weekend.
That’s not surprising. She’s been to all my home games. But this time, she sits on the fifty-yard line with Patrick and Cara. When I run out to the field, I wave to her.
She waves back then points to her jersey. Number Eight.
I love it, I mouth, then add,I love you.
Then, I play ball. In between possessions, Gabe and I kick the hacky sack, keeping up his ritual.
And by the end of the game, we’ve returned toourritual—winning.
As victory flashes on the scoreboard, I high-fivethe guys. Last weekend is behind me. I don’t have to be perfect all the time. I just have to try my best.
These guys know I do that. I play hard for them, for the fans, and for the whole city.
But also for the woman I love.
After I chat with a sideline reporter, I run over to Brooke, kiss her, then pull her into my arms on the field.
“I told you so,” I say with a smile.
Rolling her eyes, she laughs. “Yes, Drew. You sure did.”
I pepper her with more kisses, so damn glad she’s here and that I can kiss her freely at last in front of anyone and everyone.
But there’s someone I want her to meet.
My family heads into the café first, and I let the door close behind them. I reach for Brooke’s hand, squeeze it. “I’m pretty excited for you to meet my mom,” I say.
“News flash—me too.”
We walk in together. When I find my mom at a table, I smile and Mom waves back, then stands up.
“Mom, I want to introduce you to my girlfriend,” I say.