His hand slides up my thigh, gripping my hip. “Yes. I want to do that with you.”
“Ok.”
“Ok?” He pulls away, questioning my agreement.
It’s my turn to smile. “Yeah. Maybe someday I’ll marry you then. Might even consider taking your name and tossing the one that’s never meant a single thing.”
His head falls into my neck, and he flips me over on top of him. “Good. Because when you wear my jersey, I want you to know it’s legit. I’m going to keep loving you. Forever.”
______
Six Months Later
COLE
The ball hits my hands, and I drop back. I scan, waiting for Ricketts to hook right and into the middle. My eyes snag on an opening, and I take it.
I tuck the ball and charge forward through the open path, sliding into the twenty-yard line.
We set up.
“Rowdy fifteen blue! Rowdy fifteen blue!” I drop my heel, and the ball hits my hands.
Three quick steps back, I slip left, dodging and pulling my arm back to launch the ball. It drops right into Ricketts’s open arms in the endzone.
The fans roar, and I jog off the field, pumping my fist three times in the air. I cross the sideline, having secured our spot in the playoffs, and my team and coaches congratulate me. I pull my helmet off and squint, adjusting to the massive stadium lights, wanting to see her.
Ten rows up and right on the fifty-yard line is my girl. She’s on her feet, my name and number across her back, and a smile tugging at her lips that’s just for me. Jos is beside her, arms crossed, eyeing the guys in front of her, completely unimpressed by their obnoxious celebration.
I walk to the middle of the field, remembering why I love this game—the strategy, physicality, camaraderie, and competition. It’s the first season in my life where it’s been for me and me only.
I think my parents would be proud. This is what they would have wanted. My mom and dad showed me what love is—what it feels like—and I’ll never again hide it away, because I’ve seen what love can do. It can change everything.
I head for the tunnel but stop along the stands, searching for Ryder again. I spot her in the first row, surrounded by fans. I reach for the metal railing and pull myself up as she leans down, her hands gripping my face.
Her lips press against mine. “You looked like you knew what you were doing out there.”
A fan reaches over, shoving a Sharpie in my face, and she carefully guides their hand away, never breaking eye contact with me. Always my protector.
I kiss her again, holding it a little longer this time. “I’ll see you in a bit.” I release the bars and drop to the ground.
She leans down a little further. “I got a call.”
My eyes flick between hers, knowing what it means. She and TJ have been endlessly trying to break down the workings of a massive trafficking ring, but that doesn’t stop the calls from coming.
She slips my jersey over her head and tosses it to me. I pull up one more time, and she kisses me again. “Don’t want to get blood on it.” She smiles. “I’ll see you at home.”
I kiss her one last time, and she turns, jogging up the stairs, taking two at a time, following Jos. I watch her. She’s everything I need, and soon, she’ll be my wife.
I head into the tunnel with the rest of my team, worry filling my gut at all of the possibilities of what she’s running toward.
I slap hands with my teammates as they celebrate our win. Even T-Bone reaches out and bumps my shoulder, the ass finally doubling down like he understands we have something to lose. He still calls me Rocket Boy, but I no longer mind.
I dress and spend my time with reporters before leaving my team, so I can go home and wait. Heading toward the parking lot, I pull my phone from my pocket.
RYDER: Meet me at The O.
It takes me thirty minutes to pull into the drive and park beside Ryder’s bike. I climb the porch stairs and hear the lockclick as Jos opens it, stepping back to let me in. I don’t miss her swollen cheek.
