“My boyfriend,” I whisper against his mouth.
He kisses me so hard, I almost forget we’re in a tunnel full of players and staff. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests on mine. “Good. Because I love you, Eden Carver.Always have. Always will. And I’ve been dying to hear you say it.”
The world tilts, steadies, roots deep. He’s mine. Finally.
Behind us, a chorus erupts. Sticks are rattling, helmets knocking together.
“Yo, Eden, are clinic hours open?” Wesley calls, grinning like a kid who just found candy.
“My hamstrings are crying,” Adam chimes in. “Don’t play favorites now.”
Another guy jerks his chin at the name stretched across my chest. “Strong branding, Carver. Team discount, or just goalie exclusives?”
“Full price,” Nate fires back, deadpan. “Priority to whoever shuts up first.”
That cracks them up. A rookie taps Leo’s arm on his way past. “You taking appointments too, champ? My ribs are toast. Could use a boxer’s massage. I hear they’re…excruciating.”
A ripple of laughter rolls down the line, a couple of guys throwing shadow jabs in Leo’s direction.
Finn claps Leo’s back, grinning. “Good to see you in the tunnel, Carver. About time you showed. Guess Russo’s officially off the market now. Fan girls are gonna cry.”
“They’ll live.” Nate doesn’t miss a beat, smug as sin.
Coach looms behind the crew, rumbling. “Alright, break it up. We’ll book slots. Wait your turn.”
“Add me first,” Adam fires back, and the hallway erupts again with laughter, sticks thumping the wall, voices echoing.
Then, finally, it’s just us. Leo, Nate, and me.
Nate eases me down but keeps a hand on my waist. Leo offers his hand, solid and brief. “Hell of a game, Russo.” His mouth quirks. “I’d stick around to celebrate, but I’mguessing you two have…catching up to do. We’ll save our beer run for another night?”
“Smart man.” Nate smirks, not even looking away from me.
Leo lifts his phone, snapping a picture before I can stop him—me grinning like a fool, Nate’s hand still claiming me. “Perfect. Mama Carver and Mama Russo will be thrilled their meddling finally paid off and Russo-Carver grandbabies are in the making.”
I groan, swatting at him, cheeks on fire. “Seriously?”
He laughs easily, pocketing the phone. “Don’t worry, baby sis. I’ll make sure they know it was my charm and diplomacy that sealed the deal, not their scheming.” With a mock salute, he heads down the hall, his laughter trailing behind him.
Nate leans close, voice a growl against my ear. “Give me ten minutes.”
Heat sparks low in my belly. I meet his gaze, daring. “Make it nine.
44
GAME ON (NATE)
The cab drops us in front of the Cherokee, and for the first time in weeks, there’s no pause. No hesitation, no what-ifs. Just her hand in mine, tugging me inside.
The apartment smells faintly of lavender and home. The second the door shuts, I press her back against it, not rough, not hurried, but firm enough to remind her of who’s in charge.
“I missed you,” I murmur against her mouth. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you for weeks.”
My kisses feather along her collarbone, each one slower than the last, a promise rather than a pursuit. Her breath stutters. I slide my hand along her cheek and into the hair at the base of her neck, tilting her head to look at me.
“No excuses left, Trouble. You’re all mine now.”
She steps back, eyes blazing, still holding my hand, pulling me toward her bedroom. Her laugh turns shaky and defiant. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”
