Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Her breath catches, but she recovers, cupping my hand with the one I just put a paper ring on. “Yes, because loving you endlessly is my big plan anyway. I was just hoping you’d be on board.”
“I am.”
“Good, then kiss me.”
And I do, deeply, as all the love in my soul pours into the kiss, just for her.
For this girl who owns my heart.
When she pulls back, her eyes flutter open and our lips still linger close to each other. I kiss her top lip, then she kisses my nose, and I look deep into her eyes, loving what I see with every bit of my being.
My future.
EPILOGUE
Louisa
The crowd is electric as I sit in my seat on the glass wearing my number four Knoxville Bears jersey. My sisters all sit up in Dimitri’s box, but I wanted Ciaran to see me when he hit the ice. I wanted him to know I’m here and that I’m so proud of him. It was hell getting me down here since my ankle is still a shitshow. I had some complications from surgery that no one knew about, and because of that, my ankle scooter has become my new best friend. I should have gone to the suite, but like I told the girls, Ciaran needs to see me.
I spin my engagement ring around my ring finger with nerves. Ciaran and Eliza had surprised me by taking the paper ring that Ciaran had made me all those months ago in the hospital and setting it in resin to keep it forever. I love it, and I don’t want anything else, much to his dismay. He wants me to have something flashy, a huge diamond, but I want no such thing.
I want our paper ring that he proposed with.
I want his love.
And I know it’s all mine.
Everyone around me wears Assassins jerseys, but Ciaran isn’t on the team yet. After my accident, he was sent back to the Bears for more development. I was devastated and guilt-ridden, but he promised me it was all good. He said as long as I was okay, everything else would play out how it was supposed to. He believes it was fate since someone has had to carry me around the shop and up to our apartment.
He is the book boyfriend authors write about.
It took time for me to accept that he had lost his chance because of me. Though, he claims there was no choice to make. Whenever I get in my feelings, he reminds me that he’d make the same decision over and over.
And each time he says it, I swoon.
I don’t know how I got so lucky, but thank God for pomegranate-orange muffins and hot hockey players with sinfully filthy mouths.
The horn sounds for the players to hit the ice, and I struggle to my feet. I lean on my good leg, patting the glass with my palms as I wait for him to come out. Ciaran was right when he said he’d make it back to the Nashville Assassins. It only took fifty-nine goals in forty-one games, but he proved himself, and here we are.
Me cheering, and him living the dream he’s worked for.
Just how I love us.
I take that back. I love us the most when we’re in bed, reading, and later, when he puts that filthy mouth to good use.
Oh, I just love him.
Everything about him, about us, about our love.
When he comes out of the tunnel, my breath catches at the sight. He looks incredible in purple, the black on the jersey so striking with his features. His blue eyes are ablaze, and he has sexy scruff all along his jaw. His stick hangs from his glove as he twists it, warming up his wrists. His helmet isn’t fastened, and the strap waves wildly behind him as he does his laps. He has a beautiful, determined look on his face. That is, until he sees me.
He stops so abruptly, a spray of ice flows ahead of him, and I can’t help but laugh. His eyes widen, and then his lips spread into a big grin before he shakes his head in shock. He skates back toward the door like he did before, and the butterflies go insane in my belly. The last time he did this, he told me he loved me. A moment neither of us will ever forget.
When he leans up against the rail, he sets me with a look. “Lou, what in the world are you doing down here? I thought you’d go up in your family’s box.”
I shake my head, hopping toward him. He grimaces, and I can see him considering climbing the stairs in his skates. “I’m fine,” I tell him, looking more like a flamingo than a hockey girlfriend. He doesn’t listen and drops to his knees, climbing the stairs to give me his hand. I take it and hop toward him, and when I’m in front of him, he looks up at me. He’s so damn handsome. “I wanted you to see me.”