She hears me. Her eyes light up, her lips curving in a smile so bright it knocks the breath out of me. I prowl across the hall toward her, not stopping until she's in my arms, pressed up against my chest where she belongs.
"Congratulations."
I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in. "Thank you, baby."
For long moments, I just hold her, letting traffic stream down the hall around us. My teammates catcall and tease, but I ignore them. I ignore everything but the woman in my arms, thanking God she's here.
I spent most of last night going out of my mind, questioning if leaving her alone to get her head on straight was the right choice or not. Fucking worried out of my mind that giving her that space would have the opposite impact, and she'd decide to bolt instead. I don't think I slept at all. I couldn't. When something matters this much, sleep isn't a priority.
Seeing her standing in the weight-room today was the answer to every prayer I've ever had. Hell, she's the answer to every prayer I've ever had. I never even saw her coming—a streak of red tackling me in the goddamn hallway at Stu's. But I'd kill to keep her now that she's here. Now that she's mine.
"I love you," she whispers.
My whole system lights up, every nerve ending firing at once.
I tip her head back, kissing her so thoroughly she tries to climb my body right there in the hall with my asshole teammates cheering. I don't fucking care. Let them.
I keep kissing her until neither of us can breathe, and then I reluctantly let her up. Her lips are swollen, her cheeks flushed. She's so goddamn beautiful.
"You ready to hit the after party?" I murmur, tucking strands of hair behind her ear.
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. "Actually…I had something else in mind."
"If it's you in my bed, theanswer is yes."
She rolls her eyes, a smile dancing at her lips. "Get your mind out of the gutter, quarterback. It's not that."
"Then your plan is bullshit."
"Whatever. You'll love it." She turns on her heel, marching down the hall.
For a minute, I just stand there, watching the way her ass sways in her jeans. It's a damn shame they're going to have to go because they fit her like a glove.
"Move your ass, quarterback!" she shouts over her shoulder.
"Are you sure you don't mind?" she asks two hours later, peeking up at me with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "We can go to the party if you'd prefer. I just thought—"
"This is perfect," I say, cutting her off before she can second-guess herself. I hoist an entire store's worth of shopping bags in my hands, discreetly checking my pocket to make sure her ring is there. "I'd rather celebrate with them tonight than anyone."
Serena beams at me.
We stroll through the park hand in hand all the way to the far side. I move a branch aside, letting her lead the way. She's already got it memorized. She doesn't miss a single step or falter as we troop through the woods until the tents come into sight.
Dawson's seated beside the fire, fiddling with his guitar.
"Yo!" I call out to let him know we're here.
He looks up, grinning as soon as he sees us coming toward them, bags in hand. "Look what the cat dragged in," he says, hauling himself to his feet. He meets us halfway, taking Serena's bags from her.
"Thanks, Dawson." She grins at him, and my heart squeezes in a vise. Christ, she's perfect in every damn way someone can be perfect. There isn't a single other woman I know who would rather spend the night out here, passing out necessities in a campsite made from the scraps they've collected from every questionable spot in the city than at a party full of free booze and food.
"Didn't you just win a game?" Dawson asks me as we pile the bags onto a table. I spot his radio sitting on the edge and realize he must have been listening to the game. "Why the fuck are you out here?"
"She wanted to come." I nod at Serena, grinning. "She likes you guys better than fancy parties."
"Of course she does," Lucinda says, emerging from her tent. "We're damn good company."
Dawson looks at Serena, but she just smiles, blushing. "Um, I hope you don't mind," she says softly, her gaze shifting to Julie, who is standing beside her tent, and then to Anthony, dozing on the far side of the fire. "Fancy parties aren't really my thing."
