Mason looked at him as another tear slid down his face. He took the ring as I held out my left hand. “I love you, Tommy. This ring is my symbol of my unending love.”
With our rings in place, we smiled and looked at Lennox. “By the powers invested in me by the internet, I pronounce you swans for life. You may kiss your husband.”
I took my husband’s face in my hands and brought his mouth to mine. We kissed in the afternoon sunlight as the world fell away. The chance to love Mason and to be loved by him was the greatest gift I’d ever been given. And I would spend the rest of our lives thanking him.
Mason Kingsley
Six Months Later - Super Bowl
I never imagined that I would ever bethisblissfully happy. The smile on my face showed it in every imaginable sense of the word. My friends had even noticed the change, and it was because of Tommy.
After we got married, I had to say goodbye to Axel. It would never get easier being on opposite continents, but he was only a call away, and I could live with that. Once we arrived back in San Diego, we had two days before the start of the pre-season, and we took advantage of every second. We honeymooned in our house until we could take one during the bye week. Tommy took charge of that and flew us to Germany to see Axel. When we left Germany, he reminded me that next year was our turn to play in London during the pre-season. I hoped my mother and Perry would be able to watch me play.
My now familiar nervous anxiety had my knee bouncing as I watched the clock tick down to the end of our season. It had been the one most teams dreamed about, and we were on the verge of winning it all in what we called our comeback season. Down 35-33, all it would take was getting into field goal range to do it. But Denver wasn’t going to make it easy on us.
Glancing up in the box, my father and Makenna were in the suite watching along with Carson’s parents, Lennox’s family, and Hudson and the kids. Thomas was on the sideline and caught my eye every once in a while to check in. Axel couldn’t be here since they were in the heart of their season, but I knew he would be watching from Germany. I wanted to win this for him.
A cheer from the crowd drew my attention as Evan sat next to me. “Look at him,” he said, gesturing to Lennox. “He’s in his element. I think he thrives on a comeback situation.”
Our captain was pacing the sideline, itching to get the ball back. I smiled because I knew him too. He was analyzing every play, looking for some weakness or pattern Denver’s defense might show. They were out for blood and had gotten to Lennox three times. At one time, I would have blamed myself, but I was learning not to shoulder all of the mistakes. Football was a team sport, and I wasn’t the only one protecting him. In the last six months, I’d come to realize football was my profession, not my life. That distinction went to my husband.
“Think we have time?” I asked Evan as he watched Lennox.
Evan’s cool confidence was a calming force as he looked at the time clock. “Yeah. If we get the ball back, we can do it. I’ve got to shake that corner back.”
“You can do it, Ev. You’re the best in the league.”
He dipped his head with a reserved smile. “Thanks, Mason. It means a lot that you think so.”
Another roar from the crowd had us both getting to our feet. During a Super Bowl, it was impossible to tell who the crowd was cheering for. We’d learned to feed off all of it when we took the field.
Evan grinned, then put on his helmet. “Let’s go do this.”
Grabbing my own, we took our spots on the sideline, flanking Lennox. I took a long look at Coach Henderson. His face showed nothing but his undying confidence in our team. Hehadn’t batted an eye when some of us came out as queer, and I respected him more than he’d ever know.
“Okay, Lennox,” Coach said to him, looking at the clock. “You’re going to get the ball back in your hands. Hydrate and be ready to roll.”
I glanced behind the sideline and found my husband. Tommy’s smile was all I needed to spur me on. Win or lose, I’d be going home with him, and that was enough to settle me down.
Turning my attention back to the field, it was third and short. Carson’s defense was masterful at defending against the play. When Denver’s quarterback dropped back to pass, I smiled because Colin was all over him, until the whistle blew, and the flag hit the ground. We didn’t get here alone, and it was going to take all of us to pull this out.
Colin Kearney-St. James
What the fuck?
The biggest game of my life was winding down, and all I could think about was we had to get the ball back from the fuckers tryin’ to ruin our perfect season. This was our comeback tour after losing out in the division championship last year, when I had to go back to Australia. Carson and I had been fucking distracted, having to say goodbye, and I blamed myself for us losing. Carson didn’t agree, but I wanted this so badly that I could taste it. Until I fucked up.
When we huddled up for the play, Carson was calm, cool, and collected. I looked into my husband’s eyes and bit my lip to keep from saying something inappropriate. I couldn’t help myself sometimes. It was how I dealt with stress. “Third and short. They’re going to try to run around the end, but keep your eye on the tight end for an outlet pass. Colin, cover the wide receiver. No penalties.”
I should have been offended that he was aiming that comment at me. But then again, he knew me better than anyone. Inside and out. But no time for that. “Got it, babe.” Fuck, that just came out of nowhere. It was a habit when you were married to the sexy defensive captain. “I mean Cappy.”
My husband raised a brow before heading to the other side of the field. But he wasn’t really mad. When the fuckers broke their huddle, I kept my eyes on the wide receiver. Where he went, I was going to follow. I’ll cover him like sticky wallpaper. And cover him I did. Except according to the ref, I kept my hands on him a bit too long, and out came his yellow flag, flying in the air. “Personal Foul, number twenty-seven, defense. Fifteen-yard penalty. First down.”
“Colin!” Carson yelled, holding his helmet, stomping over to me. “I said no penalties. What are you doing?”
No one could say the love of my life treated me any differently than any of the other players. He busted my balls and yelled at me just like everyone else. Except when we got home, he took his disappointment out on my ass in the best possible way. That was the only upside. But I had to make up for my fuck up. Owen and the rugby blokes from home were watching on the satellite.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll get the ball,” I said, patting his shoulder. “I promise.”
