Raced

“I was afraid you wouldn’t know which one I was,” she says, referring to her text as I take her hands in mine.

And now I feel like I can breathe again, feel like myself again because Rylee’s right where she belongs. “Baby, I’d know where you are even if I were blind.”

I smile at her, see so many things in those eyes of hers that I don’t even realize the officiate has begun. And fuck if the nerves aren’t beginning to hum now.

The vows I had planned to say all jumble in my head, crossing lines and not making any sense. I hear my cue and in the split second decide that this self-proclaimed player is going to do something a year ago I would have hidden from.

I decide to let it all out. Speak from the heart. Lay it on the line so she has no doubts.

“Rylee,” I say, shaking my head and looking down at our hands, calling to my superheroes asking for help to not fuck this up, before looking back up at her. “I was a man racing through life, the idea of love never crossing my radar. It just wasn’t for me. And then you crashed into my life. You saw good in me when I didn’t. You saw possibility when I saw nothing. When I pushed you away, you pushed back ten times harder.” I close my eyes momentarily, a nervous laugh falling from my lips as I hope she understands how important that is to me. How she never gave up on me. Ever.

I squeeze her hands as so many emotions fill me. I have to clear my throat to continue. “You showed me your heart, time and again. You taught me checkered flags are so much more valuable off the track than on. You brought light to my darkness with your selflessness, your temerity …” The tears start falling down her cheeks and I know they’re from joy but I have to brush them away.

“You’ve given me a life I never even knew I wanted, Ry. And for that? I promise to give myself to you—the broken, the bent, and every piece in between—wholeheartedly, without deception, without outside influences. I promise to text you songs to make you hear me when you just won’t listen. I promise to encourage your compassion because that’s what makes you, you. I promise to push you to be spontaneous because breaking rules is what I do best,” I say, trying to smile at her as it all catches up with me—the moment, the meaning, the woman willing to accept me—and I can’t help the tear that falls when I try to blink it away. I need something funny here, something to make her laugh so the sound of it will make me more at ease. “I promise to play lots and lots of baseball, making sure we touch each base. Home run!”

She laughs and I breathe a sigh of relief knowing I’ll be able to make it through the rest of what I have to say and that I won’t fuck them up. That I’ve got this.

“And that right there … that laugh? I promise to make you laugh like that every single day. And sigh. I like hearing your sighs too.” God that blush on her cheeks makes me want to take her upstairs and put it there from exertion. Soon, Donavan. Soon.

“I promise nothing will be more valuable in my life than you. That you will never be inconsequential. That those you love, I’ll love too.” I look over toward the boys, knowing how important it is to acknowledge them. To let them know that they are part of this package deal too. “As I stand here promising to be yours, to give you all of me, I already know that a lifetime will never be long enough to love you. It’s just not possible. But, baby, I’ve got forever to try, if you’ll have me.”

My last words tumble out. Hope I said everything I’m supposed to say in a set of vows but don’t really care if I didn’t because Rylee heard. She gets me.

I pull the ring from my pocket and slide it on her trembling fingers. And the sight of my ring, the diamond band against her engagement ring, sends an adrenaline rush through me. Fills me with a pride I’ve never known and don’t think I can explain.

She chokes out a yes and I think I say I love you. Scratch that. I know I did, but it’s all a blur because I realize that it’s my turn to listen. To be put on the hot spot because fuck if it’s not easier to say the words than it is to hear them, accept them, believe them.

Earn them.

And then she touches my cheek and motherfucker … her hand on my face makes every ounce of testosterone in my body beg to take her. I glance over at the person marrying us, giving her the help a brother out look, to see if I can kiss her but am met with a deadpan expression.

And as much as I want her lips on mine, I can wait. This moment means too much to me and I’ll have the rest of my life to kiss Rylee.

Among other things. And hell if that’s not a great fucking motivating thought to keep my hands to myself right now.

“Colton, as much as I tried to fight it, I think I’ve been in love with you since I fell out of that storage closet and crashed into your arms. A chance encounter. You saw a spark in me when all I’d felt for so long was grief. You showed me romance when you swore it wasn’t real. You taught me I deserve to feel when all I’d been for so long was numb.” Her voice is shaky at first and then she evens it out and it’s so goddamn sexy—that rasp in it—that I fall under her spell like I did that first night. I squeeze her hands to let her know it’s okay, I’m right here. That I can’t wait to listen to the rest of what she has to tell me.

“You showed me scars—inside and out—are beautiful and to own them without fear. You showed me the real you—you let me in—when you always shut others out. You showed me such fortitude and bravery that I had no choice but to love you. And even though you never knew it, you showed me your heart time and time again. Every bent piece of it.”