“He did,” I agree.
“Is this the date you were drafted?” I nod. “That’s my birthday.”
“Kismet,” I whisper. Nothing else needs to be said, nor could it because I take her mouth and feel like a king when she lets me.
Chapter Four
Lily
Monday…
I had to go to work today, which was made easier by having my own car. Keaton offered to let me use his, his preference being truck, but I declined. He drove me this morning and we stopped at my place to pick it, and more items, from my place.
When he’d suggested getting them, I think I shocked him when I agreed without debate. If we’re doing this, I’m going all in. Not to mention he will be starting training camp soon, followed by the season and his ridiculous schedule. Spending time with him will be a lot easier if we’re in the same place.
We haven’t made any steps to plan the wedding, despite numerous people online pondering when we’ll have it, the venue, colors, etc.
At this moment, we aren’t in a rush to make it official on paper. We’ve defined what we are between us and that’s what matters.
I still wear my ring, not wanting to create a frenzy amongst his fans or the media if I’m seen without it. Speculation would fly and that could cause problems for both our jobs.
I know about the gentleman clause in his contract, Keaton having shared it with me when he’d told me he wanted to speakto his boss and agent about what Martin witnessed. I’d agreed completely that they should know and thanked him for trusting me with the secret.
I haven’t met Beck yet, but Keaton said I will after he returns from training camp.
Apparently, every year following it, Beck hosts a cookout at his house for the players and their loved ones. Keaton said Beck does it for two reasons. He views the team as an extension of his family and to thank theirs for sharing them with him and the fans. It’ll be my first time meeting those closest to Keaton, including his parents as they’ll be invited, too.
He leaves in a week and I am dreading it. I’ve gotten so used to seeing him every day, to waking up beside him. Not that we’ve done anything other than sleep. I’ve just become addicted to falling asleep wrapped in his arms.
Within them, I feel as if nothing can hurt me.
Ironic since I thought he would be what did that.
A gross, and unfair, bias on my part because of what he does. An unfounded judgment that could’ve cost me the happiness he brings me had I listened to it.
I’ve fallen for Keaton. A fact that doesn’t scare me in the slightest.
He’s the reason I can’t stop smiling, can’t recall what life was like before meeting him.
“Ms. Wren,” is called out behind me and I tense, fearing a reporter has followed me into the hospital. Thankfully, it’s just a parent wanting to thank me for helping their son. I speak with her for a few minutes, telling her it was my pleasure and how sweet their child is. And neither are simply platitudes meant to offer comfort in a heartbreaking situation.
I mean both. I know exactly who he is, why he’s here, and what he wanted me to draw on him.
Superman.
He said that nothing can touch the Man of Steel and he was hoping that, if he borrowed his shield, it would work on him, too.
I cried as soon as I could get a minute alone.
I know he’ll be okay, that his treatment has been effective and his prognosis good, but his optimism, his ability to find good while enduring something so traumatic really got to me.
It also pointed out how easily things change.
How quickly a life could end.
What if I kept putting off something, always promising someday, but I never got to actually do it.
Someday doesn’t always come.
