Page 140 of Playing to Win

“Drew Callahan,” my boyfriend says, his voice ringing with awe as he steps away from his parents and walks toward my uncle, his hand thrust forward. “Wow, you came to my game.”

“I convinced him it would be worth it,” my dad says, winking at me. I already knew Uncle Drew and Aunt Fable were coming, but I kept it a secret from Ace.

Looks like it was worth it. I’m afraid he might cry, he’s so overwhelmed that one of his childhood idols is standing in front of him.

“Where’s Mom?” I ask Dad.

“She went to the car with your aunt. They both complained it was a little too cold, and besides, we’re all going to see each other at dinner, right? Though my wife did want me to tell you congratulations,” Dad says to Ace, who nods slowly in acknowledgement, as if he’s in a daze. He probably is, still staring at my uncle like he can’t believe he’s there.

It’s cute.

An announcement is made and Ace has to go to the fifty-yard line to receive the championship trophy with the rest of the team, and we all watch, me standing between my dad and uncle, feeling so proud to be here. To enjoy this moment and celebrate the man I love and his team. Ace’s mom wipes tears from her eyes and rests her head against her husband’s shoulder, clutching him. I feel tears fill my own eyes and I blink them away, refusing to let them fall.

Even though they’re happy tears.

There is no one I’m happier for than this man who loves me. Who stands by me and supports me no matter what. I do the same for him. His wins are mine and I can’t wait to celebrate him with everyone else tonight.

Can’t wait even more to celebrate with just the two of us alone, either.

* * *

The momentwe come home from the restaurant and we’re in my bedroom, Ace is on me. His mouth on mine and his hands busy, trying to remove my clothing. I do much the same, unbuttoning the flannel he’s got on and moaning in frustration when I see the pristine white T-shirt he’s got on underneath it.

“Too many layers,” I grumble, shoving his shirt up so I can see the tattoo he recently got.

It’s simple. Small. Just a single word over the center of his chest, right where his heart is. It says…

Yours.

I trace each individual letter, while his hands undo the button on my jeans then pull down the zipper. “I love this tattoo,” I murmur.

“I know you do,” he says. “Want to get one like it for me?”

“Where?”

He bends down in front of me, tugging my jeans down my legs. I toe off my shoes and kick off the jeans. “I was thinking right here.”

He palms my ass with both of his hands and I burst out laughing.

“You would want a tattoo on my butt that says ‘yours’.”

“It is mine.” He cups my ass cheeks, giving me a squeeze. “I can’t get enough of this ass.”

“It still gets us in trouble,” I remind him.

“Ah, but what a way to go, am I right?”

He’s kneeling in front of me, a wide smile stretched across his face, and I reach for him, drifting my fingers down his cheek. “You’re kind of weird.”

“You love it.” He turns his head, kissing my palm.

“You’re right. I love you.”

“Love you too, Red.”

“Forever?” I ask him, needing the confirmation.

His eyes glow as he stares up at me, nothing but love shining in his eyes.

“Forever.”

* * *