Upstairs, three bedrooms and three bathrooms round out the space.
“What do you think about it in person?”
“I love it,” she says, jumping into my arms and peppering my face with a hundred kisses.
We spend the day lounging by the pool, walking on the beach, and strolling through the small coastal city.
Even the press has stopped inquiring about our relationship. It’s not that we don’t go out. We have weekly dates, but I can’t wait to hold her hand, kiss her whenever I want.
The time goes by too fast. But we lead busy lives. Her company has grown exponentially, and I have games to play and win.
Super Bowl, here I come. But not even the prospect of winning another championship compares to being with her. It’s another type of fulfillment, one that runs deeper somehow.
I returnfrom practice one Saturday in mid-December to Lilly decorating the Christmas tree. Fuck, I missed her.
Every second she’s not next to me is one I can’t get back.
She wears my jersey and long socks, and that’s a sexy image.
The sweet smell of home-baked cookies lingers in the air.
Dipping my head, I take her face between my hands, inhaling her sweet smell.
“How was practice?”
My arm aches a bit. She notices and caresses it.
“I’m used to it.”
She drags me down to the floor with her, and after she massages my sore muscles, we decorate the tree together. It lights up in sparkly gold, red, and green.
“They should be here any second,” she says, barely containing her excitement.
I have a home game on Monday night, so it’s a good time for my sister and best friend to visit. We haven’t seen them in a while, and right on cue, the intercom rings.
Lilly darts to the door. When she opens it, the girls hug and start chatting right away.
Levi and I clap our backs as we embrace. We both wear a contented look, eyeing our women who are moving to the sofa.
Levi and I go into the kitchen, and I offer him a drink.
“So, when are you going to propose?” he asks.
I scratch my neck.
“You can ask her after you win, like I planned,” he offers.
“No, man.” I thought about it, but that will always be his proposal idea.
My chest still constricts when I think that he’s not playing anymore. I am just happy he is doing something he loves just as much.
Like he can read my mind, he says, “I’m good, man. Do I miss playing? I do, but I live vicariously through you.”
I chuckle. “No pressure at all.”
He sips from his glass of water and gazes at my sister with so much love. “Amelie has always been the endgame, man. I just wish…”
“Hey, you went through a traumatic event.”
