Chapter 22
Two people in love, alone, isolated from the world, that’s beautiful.
—Milan Kundera
Seven months later
Fable
Drew and I were never believers in the fairy tale. We both had our own issues, our problems, our fucked-up home lives that blew all thoughts of happily-ever-after right out of the water. Once upon a time, we were cynics facing the world alone. Our story changed into that of two warrior cynics facing the world together.
Now, we own the happily-ever-after and we refuse to let that bitch go.
I watch him now, sitting on the sidelines of the football field. It’s hot, even though it’s only nine in the morning, and the summer sun is intense. I have a pretty nice tan already from sitting out here for hours watching Drew practice with his team.
He’s sorta dreamy out there on the field. I love watchinghim play. He’s so talented, so in command of his teammates and his game play. Rumors are already spreading of how his chance at an NFL contract is getting closer and closer.
Once upon a time, that would’ve scared the crap out of me—the thought of him leaving me behind. Or maybe he’d want me to go along with him—and that would’ve scared me, too.
Now I take everything day by day. No need for panic. When the time comes for a decision to be made, I know we’ll do the right thing.
Together.
I love how sweaty my man gets when he plays, too. Does that make me a freak? Oh, I put on a big show when he grabs me and hugs me after practice, complaining loudly how gross he is, all stinky and damp.
But I’m lying. I love it.
He’s coming toward me now during a break, a big grin on his face, and I stand, offering him a big smacking kiss before I hand over a fresh bottle of water. He takes it from me, tears off the cap, and chugs every last drop within a few swallows.
Did I mention how sexy he is when he drinks? No? Well. I’m tempted to fan myself every time I watch him.
“Did you put on sunblock?” he asks, crushing the empty plastic bottle in his fist before he hands it back to me.
I clutch the bottle in my hand. “Maybe.”
He taps the tip of my nose with his index finger. “You’re turning pink. You need some.”
His concern for me is slightly over the top. Since what happened with Adele, he’s been very overprotective. From always being there to pick me up when my shift is over at workto slathering on enough sunblock to his satisfaction, he wants to make sure I’m safe. I appreciate it more than he’ll ever know. “I’m trying to get a tan,” I tell him.
“You’re pretty tan already, baby.” He draws his finger across my bared shoulder, sending a shiver through me. “You know what my favorite thing in the world right now is?”
I frown. Where is he going with this? “What?”
He leans in close, his mouth hovering just at my ear. “Your tan lines,” he whispers. “And the fact that I’m the only one who gets to see them.”
I’m blushing. That he can still do that with a few words, a mere look, blows my mind. “You’re bad,” I say when he pulls away from me.
A grin flashes. “You like it.” He glances over his shoulder, checking out his teammates. “Look, you should go on home. It’s too damn hot out here for you to sit around. I’ll be done in a few hours, okay?”
I nod, sad he’s kicking me out. But he’s right.
Owen’s around here somewhere, helping out with carrying the equipment, organizing stuff, handing out water and whatever else is needed. Drew got him the job, though it’s more of a volunteer thing.
Owen doesn’t care. He’s thrilled to be hanging out with a bunch of cool football players. Plus, it’s keeping him busy.
Keeping him out of trouble.
“I’ll see you later?” Drew asks, grabbing my hand so he can pull me in for a kiss.
