I was still reeling from Soren's public display of devotion in the sixth when the kiss cam came on. This was probably my least favorite game day event, partly because too many people went overboard with tongue action, but mostly because I would never have the opportunity to kiss the person I wanted to. Not while he was playing the game.
"You don't look happy enough for somebody whose man all but declared his love for her in front of forty-thousand fans," Dani said from beside me.
"Oh, believe me, I'm happy." My mouth was aching from smiling. "Cloud nine."
"So what is it then?"
I pursed my lips. "Don't judge me, okay?"
"I make no promises," she said around another sip of coffee. That had to be her third of the day.
"It's going to sound really petty, but I'm jealous of the couples who get to kiss. I can't even kissmy man," I said, parroting her words, "even though he's right over there."
I stared longingly toward the infield as Soren took the field, sighing when I saw my name on the back of his jersey. When I flipped back around toward Dani, she was smiling coyly, like she knew something I didn't.
"What?"
"Nothing. I'm just glad it all worked out for you."
"Thanks."
She leaned back against the small wall separating us from the field. "And you thought you were going to have to work for it."
"I still feel like I should."
"Well." She paused, gesturing toward the big screen. "Now's your chance."
I looked up at the screen in centerfield, only to find myself staring back, bewildered. When I looked back at Dani, she smiled again. "Don't take too long. We've still got work to do."
My eyes bounced back to the screen, only this time the camera was on Soren. Running past the dugout, heading straight for the wall. The crowd roared when he stopped in front of me.
"Hey, blondie."
"Hey, Clarke's boyfriend."
He removed his hat and cracked a smile.Oh, heavens.That was the kind of smile that melted my panties clean off my body. The kind that held a certain,sinful—pun intended—kind of promise for all the wickedly delicious things he planned to do to me.
"You liked that?"
"I loved that."
"And I love you."
That was all it took to snap my last vestige of self control. I dug my fingers into his messy, sweat-soaked hair and tugged his mouth to mine. A deafening cheer echoed throughout the stadium, drowning out the sound of my desperate moan.
My breath shook when he finally removed his lips. "I love you, too."
"I'm sorry I left like that. I didn't understand what—"
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have thrown that stupid nickname in your face. You're so much more than that."
He wiped a tear from my cheek. "I should have just told you that I don't care if you don't want to be Soren Sinclair's girlfriend, because I'd count myself fucking blessed to be Clarke Myers' boyfriend."
I laughed against his lips before he kissed me again. This was one of the moments, the kind I would never forget. Right up there with the first night we'd spent together without having sex or our trip to Tucson. This was a forever moment.
The kind you couldn't plan for or put on a list.
"You know this is going to be all over the internet, right?" I told him, cradling my hands around his neck. "There's no hiding from it now."
