Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Tally snorts an indelicate laugh. “I’m eighteen, surrounded by eighteen-year-olds. It’s a giant pool of hormones.”
“Facts,” Tristan agrees.
“I’m getting something stronger.” Flip slides out of his chair and heads for the bar.
Rix turns back to Tally. “Make good choices.”
“Oh, I will. I’m not stupid.” Tally rolls her eyes. “I know they want to date my last name, not me.”
“I’ve been there,” Hammer says.
“Same,” Rix adds.
“And you two are both with hockey players now, so is that my destiny?” Tally asks.
She’s all snark these days, like real life is hitting her hard. University is good for her, but it’s a lot of change, and she’s been insulated in this world for a long time.
We stay for dinner and hang out with our friends for a while before Dallas takes me back to his place, gets me naked, and worships every inch of me.
I’ve never felt so wanted. So needed.
So loved.
CHAPTER 46
HEMI
“What the—” I come to an abrupt halt in my office doorway. A massive banner has been strung across one wall, framed by an arch of balloons. How Dallas managed to get all this stuff up here without me noticing is a wonder. When he had time is another question mark. Between practice, away games, and my hectic schedule, fall has been a whirlwind. I moved in officially two months ago. Dallas is an incredible partner and roommate. And one day, he’ll make an amazing husband and father.
I love waking up to him and going to sleep with him. And those away stretches make me fall even more in love. He leaves sweet little notes and smiling crocheted peaches all over the apartment for me to find. He’s obsessed, and I love it. The current state of my office further confirms just how deep his infatuation runs.
“Oh wow.” Hammer appears beside me. “This is…wow.”
“That about sums it up.”
“How did he even get in here? When did he get in here?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Someone must have given him access.” The team landed a couple of hours ago, while I was in a meeting with Denise, the women’s team’s head coach. He must have been planning this for some time. That he managed to set this up between landing and now is seriously impressive.
The banner strung across my wall reads WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME? The balloon arch is a whole separate thing. It seems totally unnecessary, but also very much something Dallas would do just because he can.
I snap a photo with my phone and send it to Dallas.
Hemi
We’re minus a time machine to make this happen.
“We don’t need a time machine. Just say yes.”
I spin around and find him standing behind me, looking too delicious for his own good. And mine. I haven’t seen him in five days.
“Hi, Dallas. Bye, Dallas.” Hammer spins and walks out of my office.
“Permission to close your door so I can do unprofessional things with my lips?” he asks.
“Permission granted.”
He closes the door and takes my face in his wide, warm palms and drops his head. But he stops before his lips connect with mine. I pucker in an attempt to reach him. He backs off a little. I narrow my eyes.
He grins. “I missed you, honey.”
“I missed you. Kiss me,” I demand.
“Say yes.”
“Yes. I’ll go to prom with you. Even though it was ten years ago.”
“Excellent.” He kisses me. Soft. Sweet.
I try to deepen the kiss, but he pulls back. “I appreciate your love for my lips on your lips, but you have an appointment for hair, nails, and makeup in less than half an hour.”
“What?” The whiplash is a lot, as is my desire to get him home and into bed.
“Hair, makeup, and nails. We need to get you prom ready.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously in love with you.” He kisses the end of my nose and grabs my purse, slinging it over his shoulder. “Come on.” He takes my hand and tugs me toward the door.
Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting in a chair with a woman expertly recreating the hairstyle I wanted nearly a decade ago. Essie is working on my makeup while a third woman paints my toenails.
“I can’t believe he sucked you into this,” I tell her.
“I mean, any excuse to bring back the mid-two-thousands and all that came along with them is a good excuse,” she says with a smile.
“Where the heck did you find that picture?” I motion to the clipping from a magazine.
“I have your moms to thank for that.” Dallas sits in the chair next to me, one leg crossed over the other. “Apparently, you had a whole scrapbook page dedicated to prom.”
“They did not send you my high school scrapbook.” My horror must be written on my face.
Dallas grins, and it’s a devilish, panty-melting expression on his gorgeous face. “Oh, they most certainly did. I had no idea you were an expert scrapbooker.”