When I finally pull back, she’s smiling, her gaze drifting out over the crowd. I wonder if this is the first time that her generosity has been recognized. I hope she realizes this won't be the last.
Or the last time that she’s celebrated. Because if I have any say in it, I’ll be celebrating her for the rest of my life.
I take her hand and guide her down from the small platform, relinquishing the space to our MC for the night as he steps in to keep things moving.
“Alright, everyone,” he announces, lifting one of the signed jerseys that Lochlan contributed. “Let’s kick things off with some Mayhem memorabilia.”
The bidding starts immediately, voices overlapping, energy buzzing through the room.
“That was really beautiful,” Rhiannon says softly, leaning toward me from my right.
Rosie settles into the chair beside mine, and my hands curl in on themselves. I twist the wedding band I put on a week ago back and forth. I want to touch her. Desperately. I want to rest my palm on her thigh, feel the warmth of her through the fabric, remind myself she’s real and right here and still mine if only for a little while longer.
“I meant every word of it,” I say quietly.
My hands are practically vibrating with the effort it takes to keep them to myself, so I choose the safer option.
The one that lets me have just enough without crossing a line. Without breaking a promise.
I drape my arm along the back of her chair, my fingers grazing the bare skin of her back, barely there. Just enough to feel her. Just enough to cause goosebumps to break out across her skin like she feels this too.
I catch Caleb's eye from the next table over. His gaze falls to where I'm touching her and then back to my face. I wonder what he sees when he looks at me with her. Can he tell that this isn't fake anymore?
I lean into her side, keeping my voice down.
“Every man in this room is looking at you tonight.Wantingyou,” I murmur. “And I still feel like the luckiest bastard alive knowing they think you’re mine.”
She keeps her eyes forward, focused on the bidding, but the corner of her lips twists up just a little.
It’s enough.
Enough to loosen the knot in my chest. Enough to get me through this moment.
For just a little while longer.
Chapter 25: Rosie
“Go, Lochlan!” Jill screams, bouncing in her bucket seat next to me, her husband’s jersey hanging loosely on her petite frame.
Her brown ponytail swishes back and forth like a pom-pom as she hollers at the top of her lung and claps loudly.
“Oh my god, what a great game!” she beams, sinking back into her chair as the whistle blows.
I grin, the excitement that’s buzzing in the air around us pulling me in too. Boone’s having a great game, and I finally feel like I’m getting the hang of the sport and being a hockey wife which makes it even more enjoyable to watch.
Gone is any attempt to answer emails or complete work while he’s playing. I’m locked into whoever’s getting smashed against the boards and the scoreboard.
Surprisingly, these past few months have been… nice. Spending as much time as I can rink-side, watching Boone and the Mayhem dominate game after game, has been an unexpected highlight to the start of my year.
It’s been two weeks since Boone told me he wouldn’t touch me again. Just after that night in the apartment when he had me on the counter like some kind of Cirque du Soleil routine, legs spread while he ate my pussy and fucked me with his wedding ring like I belonged to him. And I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been trying to drown out thoughts of him ever since.
It’s made everything worse that he’s kept his word. No touching. No flirting. Not even dinners after games since he’s been on the road most of the time.
The only moment where I saw a flicker of the old Boone, the guy who lost control in my house in Brookhaven, was during the devastatingly romantic speech he gave for me at the Brookhaven Women’s Shelter charity auction on Valentine’s Day.
And that kiss… It was so safe and careful. Not even on the lips. But the energy that rolled through him when he did it told me everything.
The restraint in his arms. What he whispered in my ear. The effort it took to hold back.
