“You played a great game, baby,” Dylan says, eyes shining with pride.
I didn’t make a goal tonight. I didn’t get an assist. But as far as Dylan is concerned, I was the star of the show.
Life has been magic since I picked Dylan up from the airport thirteen weeks ago. If I’d been concerned that we jumped the gun and this was going to be a disaster, those three weeks without him were fucking miserable. I felt like a mopey puppy pining for my master’s love.
I hated every single moment without him. I was miserable. I made everyone around me miserable because I was bitchy and lonely, longing for my man.
Nothing has been the same since. I’m so in love with this man, it’s sickening. Even I can say that, and I’m the one floating on cloud nine.
“Ready to go home?”
“Yes, please. Or I’m going to track down those refs and knee them in the balls. Maybe it’ll make them open their eyes.”
Mandrick laughs loudly at his words.
“I don’t think he’s been kneed in the balls,” someone mutters. “I certainly close my eyes.”
“It’s about the lesson,” Dylan says, glaring at him. “Miss something glaringly obvious when you’re looking straight at it and get a pointy heel right in your nuts. Are you telling me you wouldn’t think twice about overlooking something if that was the promise of what’s coming after, darlin’?”
I can’t keep my grin off my face. Mandrick is likewise grinning. Jordeau squeezes by us, glancing in Dylan’s direction but not saying anything. He’s not a Dylan fan. He’s not a fan of mine either.
I kiss Dylan’s cheek and turn with him in my arms as we head down the hall. There are so many pictures of just this out in the world as paparazzi linger around the parking lot for a glimpse. There were so, so many when Dylan first arrived. There are fewer now because it’s common. No one cares about repeated pictures.
“I think they’re afraid of me,” Dylan says once I’ve joined him in the truck.
“Oh?”
“Yep. Security is usually hanging outside the door by the box.” He rolls his eyes.
I chuckle. “I’m sure you could get them in a headlock if you tried.”
Dylan sniffs. “Probably. Oh, hey. My sister and mom will be here in a week. They can come to a game, right?”
“Depends on when they’ll be here. My last game is in four days.”
“Last game?” he asks, eyebrows knit together as he looks at me with concern.
“End of the season. Remember?”
“Oh, right.” I can hear the nervousness in his tone. I’m not sure why he’s so concerned about my career ending suddenly, but it’s been there since we first started talking about hockey back on Kala.
“There’s no indication I’m leaving Detroit,” I tell him. “I just spoke to my agent last week.”
“That means we’ll stay here.”
“My contract with the Purple Fins is for another year, so, yes.” I grip his hand, and Dylan looks at me. “Even if I sign with someone else in the future, it’s not a big deal. Why are you so worried?”
He sighs. “I don’t know. I guess… I’ve never worried about someone else’s career before. I just don’t want you to be… laid off?”
I laugh. “I won’t be let go.”
Dylan nods.
“How’s Booty Boudoir II going?”
He sighs. “I don’t know. It took me so long to acquire all the goods on Kala.”
Dylan misses his studio. We have plans to head back to Kala for a bit this summer so he can enjoy his studio again and check in on his business. He hired and trained a new photographer before joining me in the US, which is why he couldn’t come with me immediately. There was a lot of discussion with the owners of the resort about whether they were comfortable with him continuing to own the business when he’s not here running it.
