Lake:Um …
Cage:Forget I asked. Tell them hi. Gotta go. Love you.
“Sexting?”
I shook my head. “Grayson, you need a life.”
“Football is my life.”
Standing, I wiped my mouth one last time and tossed mynapkin on my empty plate.
“It’s not a life. It’s a game—one you won’t play forever. A life… get a life, dude.”
LAKE
The guy.
The proposal.
The ring.
By January I had it all. I owed God an apology. Dreams really did come true.
“It’s too big?”
With his nose in the refrigerator, back to me, how did he know I was staring at my ring?
“It is.” I wiggled my fingers, grinning as the early morning light hit it, sending a kaleidoscope of colors splattering along the ceiling and walls.
“I should exchange it.” He turned, pouring a tall glass of orange juice.
My eyes remained glued to my left hand while my right one scooped chocolate hazelnut butter out of my waffle divots. “You shouldn’t.”
“Do your parents know I have playoff tickets for them?”
“Uh huh.” It really was perfect—a simple, round solitaire. Abigsolitaire sitting atop a diamond and sapphire platinum band.
“They are in the stands with my family.Youare in the box with Shayna and the owner’s family.”
I cut my gaze to his. “You’re being overprotective.”
“Tough shit.” He swept my hair off my back and kissed it,letting his lips linger until my skin was covered in goose bumps and my body shivered. “Your days of sitting in the stands are over. Besides, I didn’t ask for a seat in the box, Gretchen, the owner’s wife, insisted that’s where you and Shayna sit after your incident.”
“’Cause they don’t want to lose a game again because of their quarterback choosing his injured girlfriend over the game.”
“It would be my injured fiancée now, but I’m sure there is more than one reason for their generosity. Again, I don’t give a shit. Your safety is my number one priority.”
I licked my finger clean and turned toward him, hooking my fingers through the belt loops of his faded jeans. “Does this scare you?”
He squinted. “What?”
“This life? Our life? Does it seem too perfect? Us… your near-perfect season… the real possibility of winning the Super Bowl?”
He shrugged. “One game at a time. One day at a time.”
“One wife at a time?” I grinned.
Twisting my ring on my finger, he smiled. “One wife for a lifetime.”
