Her lips curve into a smile. “That’s not something you need to concern yourself with.”
“I do,” I counter quietly. “Because you mean more to me than any fundraiser, any game. You are the game—my endgame.”
Even in her class riddled with mathematical equations that range from simple to exquisitely complex, our history has its place. Amy understands me immediately. Her posture changes instantly. Love lights her eyes. “You don’t want to go if I’m not with you.”
“Correct. If you can’t—or aren’t ready—to expose us to more than Willow Creek, then we’ll stay behind and let Coach Collins go.”
Amy’s breathing stills. “Bren, you’re…”
“What?”
“Incredible.” I get lost in the glow beaming up at me. “You’re constantly showing me how much you cherish who we are together.”
“Now. Before, I didn’t.” I nuzzle her nose. “That’s why I wanted to talk with you about it before I broached Collins. It’s your choice, my queen.”
She worries her lip. “When is it?”
I give her the date. “Saturday after SuperBowl.”
“Plenty of time to find a dress.”
My happiness turns to a scowl.
She frowns. “What’s that look for?”
“You’re going to look all sexy and other men are going to notice.”
She rests her hand on my chest. “You’ll live.”
“The rational part of me understands that.”
“And the irrational part?”
“Is still thinking about how other men are going to see you in a sexy dress.”
She tips her head back and a peal of laughter rips out. “You should be more afraid if I run into one of your exes.”
I swallow hard. I hadn’t thought of that. Cautiously, I address the issue, “That might happen.” I hate knowing if I hadn’t fucked up, this wouldn’t be a topic of discussion.
“But the past did happen.”
“I wish I could change it.”
“Do you?”
I gape at her. She murmurs, “You lived a full life, Bren. A life that was different than if you’d been with me.”
“Everything about my life would have been better with you by my side.”
The air shifts. Her face tips up. It’s close, so close that I can see the tiny scar near her eyebrow. One she got as a kid trippingin her cowboy boots. It was a story her father shared with me last weekend over dinner.
“When you first came in, it looked like you were ready for a face off,” she murmurs.
I tighten my arms around her and murmur, “Because I really wanted to kiss you.”
She hums. “Then stop talking and kiss me.”
Our lips brush against one another’s once before settling. I listen to her and pour everything into it. I kiss her because she’s my heart and soul. Because I’ll always put her feelings first. She’ll always be my choice.
