This one starts off as he’s working to make his spot on the team. Most of the entries talk about making “them” eat their words, and I’m pretty sure he’s talking about Jana and Kane. How he’s going to make the biggest comeback and fuck everyone who didn’t believe in him. They’re anger-filled entries, and I don’t recognize Tweetie in any of them. I underestimated the chip on his shoulder—it was more like a chunk.

  I freeze when I see the entry from the morning after Ford’s retirement party.

  We had her for one perfect night before a choice I made a year ago came back to destroy our chance. One impulsive decision was made because I couldn’t handle the questions, because I thought erasing the past would help me move forward. Instead, it was the final nail in the coffin. The moment I removed that tattoo, I severed something I didn’t even realize was still holding us together.

  I get it now. It was more than ink—it was a promise. And now she’s gone, buddy. That future we dared to hope for? It vanished the second she walked away. And she’s never coming back. I feel numb and stupid and so goddamn pissed at myself.

  I’m sorry. I really am. But love just isn’t in the cards for us, not in this lifetime. We’re not built for fairy tales, for that ride-off-into-the-sunset kind of love.

  The hurt will fade. It has to. Because if it doesn’t, I don’t know how we’ll survive.

  I read some more entries through the years that passed, though there aren’t many. Most of them talk about how numb he feels, how he tries to mask it around other people so they only see the fun-loving, charming man he wants them to.

  Then I reach an entry that’s dated a few months back, when I first arrived in Chicago.

  It’s been three years, and she’s just as breathtaking as the last time we saw her. I swore I’d never write her name in these pages again, but here I am—because Tedi Douglas is back in our life. And the second I saw her, I swear my heart remembered how to beat. The numbness faded. and color bled into my vision again.

  It took every ounce of control not to pull her into my arms, not to drown in the scent that feels like home. She’s the same sharp-witted, impossible woman we fell for. Fate, the universe, god, someone keeps throwing us back together, and I don’t know why. But I do know that I’d be a fool to waste this chance.

  I have no idea how to make her mine again, no way of undoing the past. But if I don’t try, I’ll regret it for the rest of our life. A future without her isn’t a future at all. So wish me luck, buddy, because I’m going all in. One last shot at our one and only love.

  What am I doing taking it slow and waiting? He loves me, and I love him. And sure, at points, that wasn’t enough, but we’re not who we were then. And all his painful words confirm to me that trying to convince myself I never mattered to him was misguided.

  I pick up both journals, leave my room, and take the stairs one flight up, going to the room I heard Conor tell him they were assigned.

  I knock, a lump in my throat and hope in my chest.

  We’re going to make it this time.

  Fifty-Five

  Tedi

  Conor opens the door.

  He smiles and reaches for his jacket. “I’ll be in Rowan and Henry’s room,” he says over his shoulder, sliding past me. “My bed isn’t part of your jungle gym.”

  The door starts to shut when Conor leaves, and I press my palm on it to keep it open.

  The bathroom door opens, steam escaping. Tweetie is fresh out of the shower with a towel low on his hips, his chin-length blond hair still dripping, beads of water trailing down those mouthwatering abs. “Where did you say⁠—”

  He stands there, big blue eyes full of vulnerability, waiting for me to say something first.

  For a second, my brain shuts down, and I forget all the things I wanted to say in my rush here. My heart hammers against my ribs until it’s all I can hear.

  Say it, Tedi. Just say it. Release all that hurt from years gone by. Start fresh.

  “I love you.” The words burst out of me like a shaken soda can exploding.

  His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes soften. He looks at me as though he already knew. Because he did.

  And that’s when I realize.

  Of course he knew I loved him.

  “You.” I blink at him, my breath catching. I push the journals into his chest. “You about killed me with these.”

  The corner of his mouth twitches. “That was the point.”

  My jaw drops. “To kill me? Because if you killed me, then all those second chances you wrote about wouldn’t be happening.”

  He leans against the doorframe, completely unfazed, as if my grand, dramatic sprint here to declare my love is just like any other day. “I wanted you to know what was going on in my head, how much you mean to me. That this isn’t something I take lightly. I love you, Tedi. And I understand why you wanted to go slow.”

  I put my finger to his lips. “That’s just it. I don’t want to.”

  His eyes soften even more. “You don’t want to go slow?”

  My heart clenches, everything inside me unraveling at once. Then I shake my head. “I choose us.” My voice shakes, but I push through all the worry and fear because he never purposely tried to hurt us. He was just trying to survive. “And I swear, if you try to tell me that I was right and we need to take our time, I will⁠—”

  “I wasn’t.” His lips twitch. This beautiful, frustrating man who always looks at me as if I’m his favorite puzzle to solve.

  “Well… good.” I step farther into the room, and he follows.

  He wraps his arms around my waist, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck. Just like old times.

  “You’re getting me wet,” I say.

  “I like it when you’re wet.”

  I place my hands on his arms. “I believe in us.”

  “So no more fake boyfriends?”

  I circle in his arms and jab him in the stomach. He feigns hurt, his chest shaking with laughter.

  “I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

  One beat of silence, then he just stares into my eyes.

  “Oh my god, are you trying to play hard to get now?” I’m ready to jab him in the stomach again, but his fingers slide into my hair, pulling me toward him.

  “Didn’t you know?” he murmurs, his breath warm against my lips. “You’ve always been mine.”

  He kisses me. It’s not a careful, hesitant kiss. It’s years of longing and missed chances coming out to play. His lips crush mine, stealing my breath, while his hands grip my waist as if he’s terrified I might change my mind and try to run out of here.

  I rise on my toes, my fingers tangling in his wet hair, the heat of his bare skin searing the skin through my blouse. Nothing else in the world exists except for him… me… us. He lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist.

  “You know I’m never letting you go now,” he murmurs against my lips, walking us backward.

  “Me either,” I pant.

  “There are no takebacks.”

  “Then I sure hope you aren’t defective.” I playfully roll my eyes.

  He chuckles, but the laughter fades into something deeper, something raw, as he lays me on the bed and hovers over me. His eyes are dark and hungry. “You really love me?”

  I cup his face, my thumb brushing his cheek. “Would you like me to pinch you, so you know you’re not dreaming?”

  “I’m not really into pinching, but I’ll take some sucking.”

  Tweetie’s lips are on mine before I can make a smartass comment back.

  There’s no space left between us, no room for doubt. His hands slide into my hair, angling my head as he deepens our kiss. I clutch at his shoulders, his bare skin warm and solid beneath my fingertips. The scent of soap and him swims around us while his mouth explores and claims me.

  A soft moan escapes me, and his grip tightens.

  “Tedi,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing to mine, his breath ragged. “Do you have any idea how many times I thought this would never happen again?”

  I smile against his lips, my fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Yeah, you gave me your journals. But this doesn’t mean I’m giving you mine. You know that, right?”

  He groans. “I would never ask.”

  “Well, maybe one or two. I’m a sharer.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  I draw back and act offended.

  “So, you want to have a threesome? Share me with some other woman?”

  Red veils my vision, and he laughs.

  “I thought so.”

  I press my lips to his. This time, I take control, my hands sliding along his shoulder blades, remembering the dip and curve of every muscle.

  He exhales sharply. “Tedi⁠—”

  “You talk too much,” I murmur against his skin, letting my lips trail down his neck.

  His head tilts back slightly, a quiet curse slipping past his lips as I kiss the spot just below his ear. He lowers me to the floor, and his hands trace the curve of my waist. I take his face in my hands, looking into his beautiful blue eyes—the eyes that are only filled with love for me.

  His fingers go to my blouse, resting on the first button. With every breath, another button flicks open until he pushes it off me, and it floats to the floor.

  “I can’t wait to taste every inch of you.” His hands go to my pants, and he unbuttons and slides the zipper down until I help him by wiggling out, and they pool at my feet.

  I step out of my pants, and he steps back, staring at me. Tweetie brings his thumb to his mouth, studying me as if I’m some art sculpture he’s admiring. Wanting to keep his eyes on me, I reach back and unclasp my bra, sliding the straps down my arms until it joins my blouse and pants.

  He bites his thumb and groans. “Fuck.”

  Continuing, I ease my panties down and off my hips, then my legs, kicking away the flimsy silk fabric. His gaze heats, and I imagine all the dirty things running through his mind. It only makes me feel more wanted.

  “You’re awfully far away.” I turn around.

  He steps closer and runs his thumb over his name tattooed on my ribcage. “I love seeing this.”

  Our eyes meet, and I see guilt in his.

  “No. Don’t.” I put my hands on his face and force him to look at me. “Enjoy seeing your name on my skin. I love that you love it.”

  “But—”

  I shake my head. “It’s in the past. Leave it there.” I push a finger between his abs and his towel, tugging it off of him. “My job was much easier.”

  “God, Tedi,” he says before he’s on me. Neither of us can keep things slow and languid.

  Our kiss is crazy and messy, and our hands are everywhere all at once. As if a timer’s been set and once the buzzer goes off, we’re done.

  “You drive me insane,” he mutters, stripping his mouth off mine, only to push me down on the bed.

  “Good.”

  I watch his lips curl as he goes to his bag, digs out a condom, and pulls it out of the package. I admire him running it down his thick length.

  Then he’s crawling up the bed, his knees pushing my legs apart. He lowers his body, the weight of him pressing me into the soft mattress. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” I run my hands through his hair.

  “For loving me.”

  I bring his lips to mine, and our kiss slows, and our hands explore slower, savoring a moment we’ve both been waiting for. This isn’t just sex. This is us promising each other a future together.

  He wedges his hand between us and positions himself at my opening, sliding in.

  As our bodies move together, heat curling between us, Tweetie whispers sweet things in my ear. How much he missed me, how much I mean to him, and how much he loves me. And I tell him the same as our lips drag across each other’s heated skin. We share promises of a future because this time, neither of us is letting go.

  I come on a cry, my back arching into him, and he swallows my moan before he comes on a grunt and a curse.

  After we’re finished, neither of us rushes to get up, not ready to face anything outside of the two of us.

  Fifty-Six

  Tweetie

  Tedi’s at the door, and I’m kissing her goodbye when someone clears their throat behind her. Tedi and I look over, surprised, since when we looked in the hall, we didn’t see anyone.

  “Can I go into my room now?” Conor asks.

  I step aside, holding the door open, and he slips by me.

  “Just so we’re clear, this was a one-time gift to you. Use Tedi’s room from now on.” He walks in. “Jesus, it smells like sex. If I get home and Eloise thinks I cheated, your ass is mine, Tweetie.”

  “Good luck tonight,” Tedi whispers, both of us ignoring Conor’s bitching.

  “You gonna wear that T-shirt?”

  She laughs but nods. I lean in for another kiss, but a door opens down the hall, and she steps back. “Sounds like a great plan. Can’t wait to work on this angle. Good luck tonight, Conor and Tweetie.” She waves and walks away.

  I wait in the doorway and hear her say hello to Simon, one of the Chipmunks.

  I shut the door and rest my hand on it, lowering my head, still surprised and elated over everything going on in my life.

  “So, you’re a taken man?” Conor asks.

  I push off the door and walk over to my bag to pull out some clothes before I shower all over again. “Yeah, but we’re not telling anyone.”

  He quirks an eyebrow.

  I shrug. “Her job. We need to figure that out.”

  “Well, you know I won’t tell anyone, but you better do a better job than what you just did now. Anyone could have seen you two.” Conor sits on the edge of his bed, toeing out of his shoes. “And if I play like shit, I’m gonna be upset.”

  I walk toward the bathroom but stop. “Thanks. I really appreciate it. Giving up the room. It would’ve been a buzzkill if I was like ‘let’s go to your room.’”

  “You’re lucky I’m a romantic at heart. And I like the dramatic flair.”

  I laugh because he’s the one who stopped a wedding to win his girl.

  Closing the door to the bathroom, I’m waiting for the water to heat up when I get a text message.

  Thanks for a great time… Stud.

  Who is this?

  Oh, shit I thought this was the guy I just met in the elevator.

  Not funny.

  Neither was yours.

  Touché.

  This is for proof later.

  She sends a picture of her wearing my shirt, but I can clearly see she’s not wearing a bra since her nipples are poking out.

  If you win, I’ll wear only this tonight when you get to my hotel room.

  Deal.

  Now go shower, and you better not be late to your game.

  Yes, Master.

  I love you.

  Not as much as I love you.

  It’s probably a little sick how much we’ve been telling each other that, but I don’t give a shit. We’re making up for all the years we felt it but couldn’t tell each other.

  I think about taking a picture of me in the mirror and sending it to her, but my thumb stops on the picture I took of Tedi’s tattoo earlier. Black lettering of my name rests along her ribcage, just beneath her breast. I kissed it and traced my thumb over it countless times today. The guilt still lingers, but I’ll make things right—eventually. I just wish there was a way to show the world she’s mine.

  Then a notification pops up on my screen, and I know exactly what to do.

  I upload the picture I took of her in black and white, and obscure it enough that no one will recognize her. This is the perfect way to tell the women slipping into my DMs that I’m off the market. My own quiet declaration to everyone following me that I’m in love with a woman who loves me so much, she inked my name onto her skin.

  After I post, I set my phone on the bathroom counter and step into the shower, only thinking about having Tedi again tonight as the warm water sprays over my shoulders. A shoulder I wish still had her initials on it.

  Fifty-Seven

  Tedi

  We flew home the next morning, which was nice since I got an entire night with Tweetie.

  Here we are, back at the arena. Not that I’m complaining, but I’m biding my time until we can have a little reprieve to enjoy each other now that we’re together.

  “So, tell us?” Eloise puts her elbow on the armrest and her chin in her palm.

  Bodhi isn’t at the game tonight. He’s spending the night at a friend’s house, and it’s weird not to have him here. Even the players seem a little lost that he’s not here for them to high-five. But Jade actually has a drink in her hand, so maybe she needs a little break too.

  “What do you mean?”

  Kyleigh leans forward. Her dad isn’t here either, so it’s just the four of us and a few empty seats. “You tattooed his name?”

  “Years ago. When we were in Florida.”

  “That’s sweet.” Eloise gives me puppy dog eyes.

  No surprise. I’ve seen Conor’s finger, and I’m not sure if her wrist tattoo has a meaning, but I’m assuming so.

  “But you guys are, like, together now, right?” Jade asks before sipping her beer.

  I glance around to make sure there aren’t any eyes on us. “Yeah.”

  “I get there’s a lot of history, and that can be hard to work through. Speaking as another second-chance love match, you learn from your mistakes, and I just know you guys are going to do great. You learn to appreciate each other more.” Jade smiles at me.