Intercepted (Page 65)

“Yeah, again. It seems we can’t stay apart from each other no matter where we go.” He slowly drops his face down toward mine. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I can’t think of anyplace else I’d rather be,” I whisper just before his lips touch mine.

As soon as his lips are on mine, finally, after four long, lonely months, my body wakes up. He lights up a part of me that fades away without him. It’s not that I’m not whole without him—I am. It’s just that with him—next to him—everything shines brighter.

Gavin doesn’t make my world, but I’ll be damned if he doesn’t enhance it.

His lips trail down my neck the way I’ve dreamt about for so long. “I missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you too.” I pull his head in closer, my fingers on his freshly buzzed head. “I like your hair.”

“Where’s your bedroom?” is his marvelous response.

“The door that’s not the one you came in through,” is my very helpful answer.

When all is said and done, we are laying on hardwood floors, and calling to see if they can try to deliver again since we were too preoccupied to open the door when they came.

#SorryNotSorry

* * *

• • •

“SO . . . I WAS thinking . . .” In my head, this felt like a really good idea, but now, getting ready to say it out loud, I’m already questioning myself. “Never mind.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Gavin pulls me on top of him, like the new angle will suddenly boost my courage. “What were you thinking?”

“Nothing. It’s too soon.” We’ve only been back together for a day, and I don’t even know if we are together . . . just that we slept together. “Are we officially a couple again? Or am I jumping to conclusions?”

“Babe.” He smiles with his eyes crinkling at the corners. I have no idea what the one word means, but I’m pretty sure he’s laughing at me.

“Yup. Four months apart and I still don’t know what ‘babe’ means.”

“Marlee, you spent last night naked beneath me and on top of me before you fell asleep next to me. I went to practice because I had to, and then I came back and you were naked again. So yeah, babe, we are officially a couple. And as long as you don’t plan on running from me, I don’t plan on that ever changing.”

“I already told you I’m not.” I roll my eyes to try and distract him from the way my body melted on top of him hearing his bossy declaration. It fails, of course, and the grin on his face transforms into a full-blown smile that I feel straight to my core.

“So how long are you planning on sticking around then?” he asks.

I sober with the question. It wasn’t one I was expecting, but one I’ve known the answer to since I decided to come find him.

I lace my fingers through his and look him straight in the eyes, hoping he can feel the sincerity of the words I am about to tell him.

“I was thinking forever . . . if that’s okay with you.”

The humor he had dancing in his eyes fades away and a look so fierce, it actually steals my breath, takes its place.

“Marlee,” he whispers just before his lips touch mine. “Since the first time I saw you on that dance floor in Chicago, the only thing I’ve ever wanted was to hear those words fall out of the lips I am about kiss.”

He doesn’t even give me a chance to respond before he follows through and pulls my face to his, and his soft lips are on mine. We promise each other without words to never leave again and when he rolls us over so he’s on top of me, he spends the rest of the night showing me how he will worship me.

The next day, Gavin gets his first ever fine for being late to practice.

But after the wake-up I gave him, he says it’s well worth it. Which is good, because now that I have him, I plan on making him late a lot.

It might’ve taken us a long time to get here, but now that we’ve arrived? I’m taking my sweet time enjoying every single second of it. Who would’ve thought that the quarterback would be the one to catch my heart?

#Intercepted

Epilogue

“Throw the fuckin’ ball, Pope!” yells the loudmouth covered in what looks to be about two gallons of body paint. “I could get rid of the ball faster than you!”

I seriously doubt that.

I start to turn around, but Naomi’s hand on my massive belly stops me.

“You’re far too pregnant to start anything, and DJ is too little to be a part of our tag team.” She points to DJ bundled up in his Giants jacket and hat, his little two-year-old legs dangling off of his seat and watching a movie on the iPad, completely oblivious to the game and my tendency to get a little nuts.

During Gavin’s third season with the Giants, Dre was released by the Mustangs and because my luck has drastically changed over the past few years, he was picked up the next week by the Giants. So now not only am I married to the man of my dreams and expecting out first child, my best friend lives next door. #JealousMuch? #YouShouldBe

“The excuse to eat extra tacos is wonderful, but this whole biting-my-tongue-and-saying-no-to-beer thing is for the birds.” Not to mention the fact that my feet are so swollen, the only things I can wear are flip-flops (not an option in January in Jersey) or old lady orthopedic tennis shoes . . . with Velcro. Not hot.

Which, speaking of, I sit down and stretch my legs as much as possible in the stadium seating. Gavin has been telling me to stay home and watch the games on TV, but what do I look like? What kind of football wife would I be if I didn’t show up to cheer on my man? Besides a warm, considerably less swollen and stressed one?

Gavin hands the ball off on the next play, but the running back gets brought down well before the first down marker. I must have missed the announcement, but Paint-man behind me takes this as his cue to rip on Gavin again.

“Are you afraid now, Pope?” he yells like Gavin can hear him on the field. “Do your fuckin’ job!”

“Hey, fucker! How about you shut the hell up and sit the fuck down?” Donny takes the words right out of my mouth. What? There’s a reason I force him to sit next to me every week.

“Who the hell are you?” Paint-man asks.

Donny glances over his shoulder. “The guy saving you from the wrath of Pope’s hormonal wife who’s either about to rip you a new one or get you kicked out of the game. All of the security guards here love her and couldn’t give a fuck at all about you. Nobody would be sad to see you leave.”

“Preach,” Naomi and I say in unison with our hands in the air.

“I’ll never understand why the fuck you two won’t let your husbands get a box—a temperature controlled, asshole-free box.” He shakes his bald, round head just as Gavin gets the ball back in his hands.

“Between the three of you, I don’t understand how I’m ever supposed to enjoy another game,” Emerson chimes in beside Donny.

“You know you love us, Ems.” I reach in front of Donny and grab her hand.

We might’ve had a rocky start, but Emerson’s the sister I always wanted now.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you. Whatever. Can we watch the game?” Her attempt at serious fails mid-sentence as a smile takes over her face.

The game is tied fourteen to fourteen with the fourth quarter coming to an end. As much as I love watching the game, if I have to sit through another hour of overtime, I’m liable to kill someone.