The sight of her undid me.
Her hair was longer now, cascading past her shoulders. She wore tight black jeans and a denim shirt, casual and sexy as hell.
And when she turned, mid-laugh, mid-happiness, mid-being the Michelle I loved, and saw me?
Her entire face lit up. She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even think about it. She just hopped off the stool and threw herself at me.
I caught her instantly, my arms wrapping tight around her as she clung to me, her laughter warm against my neck.
I didn’t give a shit if it was cheesy.
The woman I loved so fucking much was happy to see me, and yeah, I had a huge-ass smile on my face.
I kissed the hell out of her, drinking her in, tasting everything I had missed in the past few weeks.
She giggled against my lips, pulling back just slightly, mischief dancing in her eyes. “That was quite a greeting, B.”
I tightened my hold on her, pressing her body flush against mine.
“I missed you.” My lips brushed against her ear, my hands already skimming down her back, fingertips tracing the curve of her hips.
“Let’s leave the bar and go home and get naked.”
Her laughter vibrated through me, light and effortless.
I rested my chin on top of her head, inhaling the familiar warm, sweet scent of her.
“Please?” I murmured.
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, her fingers dragging through my hair, over my jaw.
“God, I love you,” she whispered, and just like that, everything else faded away.
The bar buzzed with laughter and conversation, but for the first time in my life, I didn’t hear any of it. Everything else faded into background noise, drowned out by the only thing that mattered—her.
Michelle stood in front of me, arms crossed, lips twitching, her eyes locked onto mine like she was piecing together every stupid, nervous, ridiculous thought that had been running through my head.
“We have the next five months to do that any day you like,” she murmured, voice softer now, filled with something steady and sure. She tilted her chin up, meeting my gaze head-on. “You played good today. I’m sorry the season is over, though.”
I exhaled, letting her words settle somewhere deep.
“You watch every game,” I said, smirking, “yet still won’t wear my jersey. I don’t get it.”
Michelle rolled her eyes, already shaking her head. “We are not having this conversation again.”
She tried to turn back toward the table, but I caught her wrist, pulling her in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her lips.
Her breath hitched, just slightly.
“Brooks…” she murmured, but she didn’t move away.
I grinned against her mouth. “I’m excited to spend time with my girlfriend. Sue me.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and then, tilting her head, she studied me. “Why did you say that funny?”
Shit.
I felt my face heat, and I immediately panicked. “It’s nothing.”
