“Then tell me.”
I felt his body tremble.
“I love you,” he murmured, searching my eyes before his mouth covered mine. “I love you so fucking much.”
My stomach flipped hearing the words.
“I love you, too,” I whimpered.
Still intertwined, we collapsed on the couch. My phone somehow ended up under me.
“My phone,” I murmured into his mouth as my tongue met his again.
He tried to get it, but he couldn’t without breaking the kiss. When he pulled it out, the screenshot of the comments I’d sent to the group chat was on the screen.
I could see the contrition in his face before he even opened his mouth.
“I’ll fix this,” he said gruffly.
I shook my head. “It’s not on you.”
“It is.” With his body weighing me down and his face a few inches above me, he sighed. “There’s gotta be something I can do. You don’t deserve this. They are saying shit that don’t even make any sense. You know it’s bullshit, right?”
I reached up and stroked his beard. “I was surprised and triggered by how the internet did its thing. But what traumatized me wasn’t what they were saying about me. I mean, I didn’t like it. But I was worried that you would start seeing me differently because people en masse are saying you should.”
His brows furrowed. “What?”
I nodded. “Also, I felt like all this bullshit was overshadowing your moment. You’ve worked so hard for this. The spotlight is on you, and they should be talking about how good you are and not why they think you should be with Milan instead of me.” I hesitated, and then I told him all of it. “There were people saying that if you’re with me, you make questionable decisions, and they”—I took a breath—“question your leadership.”
I couldn’t bring myself to say the real, tangible achievement he’d lose out on. My throat burned from even attempting to say the words.
“What? Get the fuck out of here!” He sat up and pulled me up, too. “Okay, first, I see you. From the day I sat at that bar beside you, I saw you and I wanted you. Inside and out, every inch of you is beautiful and sexy and mine. If we’re just talking about the physical, if I were on that type of time, I would’ve tried to fuck you the same night we met.”
A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. “Lamar!” I groaned. “I’m being serious!”
“Me, too.” He took my hand and put it on his erection. “You do it for me. Every single fucking time.”
I licked my lips. “Good to know.”
“Second, the right people are talking about what I’m doing on the field. Nobody else matters. Fuck them people.”
“But this is your big moment and—”
“Fuck them people,” he reiterated. “I don’t want them talking shit about you because I want to protect you. But at the end of the day, your opinion matters to me. My family, my friends, my teammates, those opinions matter to me. I don’t give a shit about what the people on the internet say. And they for damn sure aren’t going to sway my thoughts about you or my decision to be with you.” He got in my face. “You’re it for me.”
Throwing my arms around him, I climbed into his lap. “What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t have much time right now.” He brushed his lips against mine. “But the time I do have, I want to share it with you.”
“Good,” I murmured, before kissing him deep.
While the internet think pieces made it seem one way, Lamar and I were on my couch kissing, touching, and working through our relationship. I still thought it was best to keep a low profile until the internet chatter died down. He disagreed but was willing to go at my pace since I was the one being disrespected and dragged online.
“But I won’t lie and say you’re not mine if I’m asked,” he whispered, running his hand over my thighs.
“Just for right now. Please,” I pleaded. “We can figure everything out after Aunt Addy’s funeral.”
Instead of agreeing, he kissed me.
