Page 113 of Playing the Field
Like he’s already decided.
Like this—us, this future, this forever—isn’t even a question.
I pull back just far enough to meet his gaze, my heart in my throat, my entire body buzzing, weightless, alive.
“You better make it a good one, Callahan,” I whisper.
His eyes darken, glinting with challenge, with certainty, with absolute, unwavering intent.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips brushing mine, his hold on me ironclad, his presence in my life something I know—deep in my bones—is never letting go. “You have no idea.”
And as the stadium erupts in celebration, as my teammates cheer, as cameras flash and the entire world watches—
I know I don’t.
But one thing’s for sure.
I can’t wait to find out.
THE END
