He glanced at it and laughed. “Check this out.” He showed me the Warriors’ group chat where they were chirping him about the Condors’ upcoming game in Buffalo.
HARPY: Heads up. We’re not booing the Condors when you come to Buffalo. We’re booing you personally.
Pack grinned. “What a fucker. Harpy sure knows how to be welcoming.”
Another message popped up, and Pack read it to me.
DOG: First shift, first hit. It’ll be welcome home, traitor.
The phone buzzed again, and he sighed. “Listen to this bullshit from Brody.”
BRODY: Reminder: you don’t get a tribute video and two points. Choose wisely.
“Assholes.” Pack, still grinning, read his reply to me while he typed.
PACKY: You’re all adorable when you’re threatened. I’ll let you kiss my ass when we’re there.
Another message came in, but he tossed the phone on the coffee table. “I love those bastards.”
“They’re going to target you,” I said. “You know that, right?”
He grinned. “They always do. I wouldn’t want them going easy on me, though.”
I hit play to start our show, and Pack leaned against me. When he draped his leg over mine, my heart went into overdrive.
While we watched, I kept thinking about how perfect we were together. I’d never been happier, and he obviously felt the same. Anyone who could laugh when I spilled half of dinner on the floor was a real keeper.
I didn’t want to wait forsomedayoreventually. I wanted our relationship to be as official as it already felt inside me. We needed to call it what it was and make it ours.
Now. Do it now.
I eased out from under him so I could sit up.
“Nix? What’s wrong?”
I turned to face him. “Pack—” My voice caught, so I had to try again. “So much has happened to us through the years, and now it’s time to…”
He kept his eyes on mine, waiting.
“You gave up everything you’d built so we could be together, and you did it without knowing if we’d last.” My hands started trembling. “I don’t wake up wondering if this is real anymore. More than anything, I want to make what we have official so we can be together forever.”
I pulled the box out of my pocket. My fingers fumbled as I opened it, and then the eighteen-karat gold ring shone in the light.
Pack’s mouth fell open, and he gave a shaky laugh. “Took you long enough, Rossi.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“You really want this?” he asked, the joke gone. “You want me?”
“Absolutely. I’ve wanted you for so long.”
Tears welled in his eyes, and he ran his finger along the ring. A shallow groove circled the band but didn’t quite connect. It stopped, then started again. His finger paused at the break. “This is where things fell apart?”
I nodded. “And kept going after a while.”
He met my eyes and smiled. “Yeah.”
I scooted closer. “I love you, Pack. Will you marry me?”
