Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Or clinging to your legs when you leave. We never got to have that moment, you know.”
“We got close.” Cullen chuckled and brushed his lips along my jaw. “I can’t believe we’re doing all of this.”
“Me either.” And I never wanted it to stop. Being with Cullen long distance had been so much more effortless than I’d anticipated. Plus one for technology. We talked constantly, “saw” each other daily, and had managed to see each other in person at least once a month. But I’d always miss these kinds of moments the most, when we were pressed against each other, bodies warm and sleepy. I was counting down the days until it’d be more frequent and more permanent. “I love you, Cullen,” I murmured into the side of his neck. And I loved how those words never failed to elicit a quiet hum of contentment from him before he said it right back. Words we’d been too cautious to say before and now said so freely.
“I love you, too, baby. Now, let’s get some sleep so we can go another round in the morning.”
“Before or after coffee?” I hedged.
“Both?” He arched a brow with a shameless smirk, and I swatted him with a towel before following him into the bedroom and glancing around as he peeled back the covers.
I stopped in my tracks, turning an accusing glance from an empty corner of the room I’d just noticed to Cullen. “What happened to the Cullen cutout that was in here?”
“It took a trip to LA.” He cackled.
“You’re shitting me.”
“It likes to watch you sleep.”
“I swear to god, Cullen,” I said, but it was mostly bluster. I didn’t mind Cullen watching me sleep—real Cullen or cardboard. Because it meant he was there.
And I knew he always would be.
EPILOGUE
CULLEN
Four years later
“Go, go, go!” I shouted from the stands at the Canyon Tigers’ championship game. I was on my feet, screaming for Houston’s team—heart thumping like a killer drum solo at a concert. The whole team was different from when I first got traded to the Rush, a new crop of kids all learning from one of the best football players to ever play in the game—who just happened to be my man and gorgeous as fuck.
Bishop worked his way down the field, splitting the defense before he crossed into the end zone. I pumped my fists in the air, the crowd shouting and cheering for the boys like we were at a fucking NFL game.
Houston was the definition of collected like he always was, even though everyone in the stadium knew the Tigers had just sealed the championship with Bishop’s score.
Charity grabbed my arms, nails digging into my biceps. “Oh my god! Yes!” She’d moved to Denver about two years before. I loved having her close. Garrett, Ramsey, Dale, and Connie were on the other side of me, just as excited about watching Houston as I was.
The Tigers made the extra point, and then the offense left the field, their opponents trying to work some magic with lateral passes.
Houston turned and looked at me, kissing two of his fingers and then pointing them in my direction. It was mushy as shit, but I didn’t even care—not after all this time. The man still knocked me on my ass with one look, and I didn’t give a fuck who knew it.
The second the time ran out, everyone was running toward the guys on the sidelines, me leading the way. “Fuck yes! Great job, baby!” I pulled Houston into my arms just as the team dumped a bucket of Gatorade over us. I licked it from his skin while he pretended to be grossed out, but yeah, my tongue on him was one of his favorite things.
“Goddamn. I’m so proud of them!” he said as he was whisked away, everyone showing Houston the respect and love he deserved. He’d poured his heart into working as a high school coach. It was his passion in ways even I didn’t expect, and damn did I love to see him shine.
I couldn’t pretend it had always been easy. The first year with Houston in LA and me in Denver was tough, but we’d been through way too much together to let that come between us. We just had a lot of really great sex when we saw each other to make up for the time away.
When Houston’s year ended, there was a part of me that felt guilty—wondering if I was a dick and he was giving all that shit up for me—but then when the Tigers’ season started and I saw him out there with the kids, I knew Houston was exactly where he was supposed to be…and if he’d have wanted to coach the pros, I would have stuck by him then, too. That was just how we rolled.