Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
He said it.
We both collapse onto the floor, side by side. My knees have carpet burn, my ass kind of hurts from not enough prep, but I can’t find any fucks to give. We were in too much of a hurry.
“I don’t know how I’m going to survive when you’re at away games,” I say.
“Only about half of them will be away games. Will be nowhere near as bad as training camp. You’re lucky I don’t play hockey. Their schedule is nuts.”
We continue to lie in the front entrance of the apartment, breathing heavy with a comfortable silence between us.
Matt’s the first one to regain composure and sit up. “Whoa. You, like, furnished and decorated in here. We have curtains.”
I laugh. “It’s cute you think I could pull something like this off.”
“Then who?”
I bite my lip. “Aron.”
“Huh?”
“So, when we went out, I pulled him aside to apologize, but before I could get any words out, he thanked me.”
“Thanked you? For being a dick?”
“I have magical asshole matchmaking powers. Do you remember Wyatt? Short, blond, angry dude?”
“No.”
I shrug. “Anyway, they hooked up as kind of a rebound thing, and then they realized they were good together. Or something. I dunno. They’re dating and apparently, it’s serious. They both helped me move and get the apartment ready for you to come home.”
“Only you could screw someone over and still hold enough charm to have that same person do you a favor.”
“I’m awesome like that.” I grin.
Matt leans over and kisses my sweaty forehead. “So awesome.”
“Ignoring your sarcasm. How was the rest of camp?”
“Good. After the thing with Carter, he’s left me alone and even says hi in passing. The first few games were rough, but preseason doesn’t count for standings, and the team looks good. We were starting to gel in the end.”
“You didn’t get shit from the other teams?”
“A little, but not as bad as I thought. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was planning for the worst. It’s all just smack talk. It’s like their loophole. They can’t do anything to me, but they can try to psyche me out. But the good thing is, I can do it back to them. Like tell them they better hope I don’t like it too much when they tackle me.”
I laugh. “That’s brilliant.”
“Yeah, still didn’t stop them from hitting hard. Thought it could’ve been an effective offensive strategy. Give the gay guy the football because no one will want to touch him. Turns out the power of football is bigger than homophobia. Who knew?”
“That’s good at least.”
“The real test will be when the actual season starts next week. Especially considering our first game is against the Bulldogs.”
I wince. “Is that an away game or home? Either way, I’m gonna be there.”
“Home game.”
“I’m gonna be at all your home games.”
“Do you even like football?”
“Umm … I could learn to like it. And even if I don’t know what’s going on, I get to look at a group of men in those tights. I’ll be fine.”
Matt bursts out laughing. “Fuck, I love you.”
“Of course, you do. I’m a lovable guy. It just took you forever to see it.”
He kisses me long and hard until we’re left panting and breathless when he pulls away.
“What’s the plan now we have everything?” I ask.
“Super Bowl ring. New contract. Launch your charity …” He grabs my left hand and rubs over my ring finger. “Maybe a different kinda ring eventually.”
“Eventually? We should lock that down asap.” Okay, wasn’t supposed to propose like that, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it.
Matt pulls back. “Seriously?”
“I know you’re the one for me. If you can face off with my dad and still want to be with me, I never want to let you go.”
“I want nothing more than to marry you, but it’d be a PR nightmare right now.”
“Who says we have to tell anyone? We could go to a courthouse or Vegas.”
I can practically see the lightbulb go off above Matt’s head. “We have a bye week in week nine.”
Decision made, I stand and pull Matt up off the floor. I bypass the discarded clothes, the suitcase that’s toppled on its side, and the fact the whole foyer looks like a crime scene and drag Matt over to the floor to ceiling windows of the apartment that overlook Chicago.
“I better do this right.” I sink to one knee and stare up at my future. “Matt, not Matthew, Jackson. Will you marry me?”
“Only if we can tell people we were wearing clothes when you proposed.”
I laugh. “I’ll take it.” I get to my feet and kiss my fiancé for the very first time.
It definitely won’t be the last.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Matt
FIVE MONTHS LATER
We’ve lost. We’ve fucking lost. I don’t know whether to sink to my knees and cry or just collapse to the ground and not get back up.