“Sorry,” I croaked.
Sebastian turned onto his side, gazing down at me with so much love and devotion on his face that for a second I had to close my eyes.
“Don’t be,” he said simply.
“Can I tell you something?” I asked, opening my eyes to stare up at him.
“Of course.” He kissed my forehead, then scooted down so that he was lying on his side next to me.
I rolled to face him, resting my cheek on my hands. “When Tomlinson signed, I had this moment of panic where I instantly started catastrophizing. We hadn’t really talked about your job prospects, but in that moment, it occurred to me thatmyjob might actually be the problem. I almost decided to retire right then and there, and follow you wherever you ended up.”
Sebastian’s brows pulled together, the corners of his mouth turning down. “You didn’t say anything about that.”
“You’ve got enough on your plate. I didn’t want to pile on.”
He tucked a long strand of tear-damp hair behind my ear. I was in desperate need of a haircut.
“Don’t shut me out, Tay. I know I’ve been a mess, but I never want you to feel like you can’t be honest with me.”
“I’ll do better,” I promised, scooting closer to drape my leg over his.
“So what now?” he asked, pulling me in tight.
Even with this new contract, the rug could still be pulled out from under me. And if it wasn’t, the reality was I only had so much more playing time left in this body. A lot of defensemen retired in their mid-thirties, which was right around the time my contract would be up again. Nothing in this league was guaranteed, but knowing the Marauders wanted me on the roster was enough to let me exhale.
“Tonight at dinner, I just looked at you and thought, ‘Wow. I finally have everything I’ve ever wanted.’”
“Me too,” he said quietly.
I rested my hand on his stomach, tracing patterns across his skin, writing words on his body.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Calmness settled over me. A sense of rightness I couldn’t deny.
“Except lying here now,” I murmured softly, watching goosebumps rise in the wake of my touch. “I realize that’s not entirely true.”
I felt the moment Sebastian quit breathing, his body going tight.
“No?” he asked.
I looked up at him to find that old mask of careful indifference fixed firmly on his face. The one I’d learned over the last few months was the facade he adopted when he didn’t want people to know what he was really thinking or feeling.
I shook my head. “No.”
His lips flattened, and with a huff, he started to move out from underneath me.
I rolled on top of him, pinning his wrists to the pillow. Sebastian might be taller, but I was stronger. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“I don’t want you to be my roommate.” I peppered his jaw, neck, and clavicle with slow, careful kisses. “I want you to be my husband,” I whispered against his skin.
I felt his gasp. “What did you just say?”
I moved back up to stare into his eyes. Those same eyes I’d latched onto one afternoon when I was twenty years old and thought, “Mine,” without really understanding what that meant. The ones I’d glimpsed across a crowded dance floor a decade later, harder now, more world-weary and cold. The ones I’d kissed the tears from a week ago when the world had let him down.
“Marry me.”
Those eyes went wide, his lips parting. He looked completely caught off guard.
