“Oh, come on. I’m happy for you, Rio,” Ruby said. “It’s just going so fast.”
“Sixteen years isn’t fast,” Evangeline cut in. “Sixteen, right?” She looked at me. “If my math’s correct.”
“Your math is always correct,” Ruby said with a huff. “And you’re right. I’m just surprised that they’re already talking about this, that’s all. But I’m happy. Genuinely. Youdeserve whatever you want, Rio. And I know you want him. Always have, kind of.”
We were sitting at a round table at her inn’s bar and grill, the scent of grilled shrimp and rosemary fries mingling with the sea breeze drifting in from the open patio doors. Just beyond them, the deck stretched out over the sand, dotted with string lights and weathered wooden tables. The ocean shimmered in the distance, and somewhere in the background, a slow, jazzy cover of The Goo Goo Dolls’ Iris played. I put my arm around her shoulder and leaned my head against her. “Yeah. Kind of.”
“What about his job?” Daphne asked, always the practical one.
“He’s in touch with a few local and national teams. They’re basically fighting over him, but he wants to stay close to home most of the time, so he’ll probably sign with a California team. They travel enough nationwide once the league starts.”
“We have to buy jerseys and come see him play,” Evangeline said. She then tilted her head, brow furrowing. “Wait. Is it called a jersey in soccer, too?”
“It is.” I chuckled.
Here are more soccer people for you, Owen.
I CAME HOME TO FINDOwen lying in bed, one arm sprawled over my side like he’d been reaching for me in his sleep. But as I stepped closer, his eyes blinked open—soft and warm. Like they’d always been for me.
“Hey,” he murmured, voice rough. “You’re late.”
“I stayed a bit longer at the inn, ” I whispered, tugging off my clothes quietly and slipping under the covers. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
He reached for me, pulling me in close until my body was tucked against his. “Wasn’t asleep. Couldn’t sleep without you.”
The moonlight filtered in through the curtains, painting silver across the lines of his chest—over the river tattoo where my name lived now, healed and permanent.
I ran my fingers over it.
The rhythm of his breathing, the beat of his heart, the strength of his presence felt like a tide, drawing me in deeper, reassuring me that I was exactly where I had always meant to be.
“You smell like the ocean,” he said, his lips brushing my temple.
“Not strawberries?” I kissed his shoulder, then the line of his jaw.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then lower, his mouth lingering at my lips. “You smell like home, Rio.”
His words landed deep in my heart, the home where my love for him lived.
“I love you, Owen,” I whispered, my voice a breath between us.
“I love you, Mio. Always have,” he said, kissing me again, slow and sweet. “Always will.”
I smiled into the kiss, heart full, body aching for him in a way that never faded—steady and deep, like a river that had always known its way to the ocean. And now that I was here,in his arms, wrapped in this love that pulled and carried and held—I knew I’d never leave its tide.
Epilogue
RiOwen
THE RHYTHMIC ROAR OFchants echoed up toward the blue sky above the stadium.
My pulse thrummed with the familiar pre-game adrenaline—the weight of the jersey, the feel of the fabric against my skin, the sharp awareness in my legs, even the dull ache in my messed-up knee. My body was ready.
But my heart was racing for an entirely different reason—for the woman in my arms, the one I was kissing like the game could wait.
“Hey, Wheaton! It’s almost time,” one of my teammates called. We were minutes from lining up, heading out for the national anthem.
Rio and I smiled into one last, lingering kiss before pulling apart.
