Lifting my head, I meet his gaze.
Silver eyes are soft with emotion. “I meant you. I loved you before football. And one day, when I can no longer play the game, I’ll love you still.”
“August Luck, you say things like that, and I can’t think.”
He chuckles, ducking his head to kiss me. “You’re my everything. You’re my reason.”
“Gaahhh!”
His laughter deepens. Hauling me close, he rolls between my legs and braces himself above me. “I kind of like flustered Pen.”
“Oh, that’s good,” I say with a breeziness I don’t feel. “You keep talking like that and you’ll see a lot more of her.”
He’s still grinning as I grasp the back of his neck and pepper kisses over his face. “You should know,” I say, between kisses. “Wherever you go, however you choose to live your life, no one is going to love you as much as I do.”
He closes his eyes and nuzzles my neck. “Still feels like a dream hearing you say that.”
“For me too.”
“You know,” he says after a moment. “I almost hate to bring it up but you never really said anything about my fake fiancée plan.”
“Oh, well, the whole ‘I’ve loved you forever’ dual confession side-tracked me.”
He nips my earlobe. “You’re not upset about what I did?”
“Should I be? I suppose... But when I think about you doing all that just so you could spend more time with me...” I shrug. “I don’t feel upset. I think it’s kind of—”
“Don’t say it.” The dark warning has me grinning.
“Hey. I thought you claimedsweetas ‘your’ word.”
“Mine to veto at will.”
“You only get two vetoes a year.”
“A year? But I’m sweet way more than—”
“Aha! You admit it.” I poke his side, loving the way he yelps, ticklish and laughing. “Now that I think about it, your pet name should be ‘Sweets,’ not mine.”
“Penelope?” Quicksilver eyes twinkle.
“August.”
“I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too . . . sweetie pie.”
“Veto.”
Epilogue
August
“Sweets?” I close the front door, kick off my shoes, and set the car keys on the hall table. “Where you at?”
It’s a common question. Sure, I can go hunt her down, but I like calling out the second I get home. The ritual of being able to ask that and knowing Pen will answer is highly satisfying.
Her soft voice carries from the back of the house, telling me she’s in the bedroom. I head that way, mentally shedding off the layers of the outside world as I go. Here, in this space, it’s just August and Penelope. Nothing else matters.
