He laughs. “I know you can’t resist a good statistical rundown.”

  I hum sarcastically. “Oh, take me now.”

  “Come to the wedding with me and I will,” he says, kissing my neck. “Nothing bad will happen, I promise. We’ll just hang out, drink a little champagne, find a vacant room to fool around in—”

  “Nope.”

  “Maybe not that last part. Unless you change your mind.”

  “I won’t.”

  His lips hover above mine. “We’ll see.” He kisses me slowly and I quiver lightly as he pulls my bottom lip between his teeth — a move that always turns my bones to jelly.

  “Okay.” I sigh. “I’ll go to the wedding with you.”

  He kisses me even harder. “Thank you. Be sure to wear something…”

  “Elegant and professional?”

  “I was going to say naughty and revealing, but yeah, we’ll go with those.”

  I laugh. “I can be all of the above.”

  “I know you can.” He smiles, leaning in for another kiss. “Wait…” He pulls away. “You’ve never slept with Junior Morgan, have you?”

  I pause. “No.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, clearly joking.

  “Pretty sure.”

  “Good.”

  John kisses me, pulling me onto his lap. I straddle him, more than happy to take control as he settles on his back. His hands travel my curves, feeling me from my waist to my breasts and down again.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, Rose,” he says, admiring my naked body.

  I touch his muscular chest, tracing the black letters of his tattoo. “And you’re very handsome,” I say.

  He chuckles, hands clenching my thighs as his erection grows between us.

  I glance out the window. The breeze moves the curtains, revealing a stunning view of the beach. This morning. This moment. I don’t want it to end.

  I hope this moment lasts forever.

  “John.”

  “Hm?”

  “Is there another condom?” I ask.

  He pulls his eyes from my breasts. “Indubitably.”

  I laugh as he stretches his arm toward the small bag on the bedside table. He grabs a roll of condoms from inside and rips one off to give to me.

  I take it from him, and he smiles.

  “Oh, you got this, huh?” he asks, laying back.

  I tear it open and expertly roll it down his shaft. “I got this,” I say.

  He smiles. “Do your thing, Ms. Hawthorne.”

  I penetrate myself, lowering all the way down. John groans, his hands roaming to cup my breasts and hold me as I ride. I grind on him, tapping into a confidence I didn’t have two months ago. Now, it’s second nature. Being with John, making love to him, is as easy as breathing.

  Making love to him.

  The thought comes and goes, but it touches my heart and stays there.

  I’m in love with John Kirby.

  Life is good.

  I could not be more exhausted, but life is definitely good. My abs burn and my legs twinge when I walk from being stretched just a bit too far, but…

  Totally worth it.

  I stand by the coffee cart, patiently waiting for my chance at a shot of caffeine before heading toward Prism Hall, and I can’t stop the smile from stretching across my face.

  “You’re shining a bit too bright for a Monday morning, sweetheart.”

  I cringe and glance over my shoulder to find Douglas standing behind me. “Oh. Hey, Douglas,” I mutter, my smile dipping slightly.

  He nudges me with his elbow. “What’s got you so happy?”

  I look forward. “Nothing.”

  “I didn’t see you at the game,” he says.

  “Must have missed me.”

  “Tried to find you after, too.” He hits me with another elbow nudge. “Thought we could hang out.”

  “I had plans,” I say, keeping it vague.

  “I texted you.”

  “Must have gotten lost in spam.”

  “Well, I’ll let you make it up to me,” he says with a smile. “Tonight. Eight o’clock. I can swing by your place.”

  “Douglas.” I turn to face him. “No.”

  “Okay. We’ll make it my place, then.”

  “No,” I repeat. “I’ve said no before, I’m saying no now, and I will continue to say no until you get the hint in that thick fucking skull of yours. No. It’s not going to happen.”

  He laughs and takes a step back. “If you say so…”

  I step out of line, not needing that caffeine boost after all. “Never speak to me again.”

  I leave him behind, feeling the edges of my lips twitch with each step I take. By the time I reach the lecture hall, my smile is back. It grows just a little wider when I see John sitting in his seat in the front row.

  Oh, yeah.

  Life is good.

  CHAPTER 25

  JOHN

  November

  Damn, I look good.

  I don’t get to break out the suit very often, but I sure as hell jump when the chance comes up. Shiny black shoes. A goddamn Windsor knot. I’m like a secret agent on an undercover mission.

  I just need a badass lady to hang on my arm, and this outfit is officially complete.

  Junior Morgan is getting married today. The timing could not be more perfect. We dominated the game last night. Just one more game left in the season, just one more chance to nab that championship. School is great. Life is great. And Rose…

  Cloud nine doesn’t quite cover it.

  I can’t exactly scream it from the rooftops, but there’s plenty of words and feelings I’d happily express if I could — things I’ve never said or felt before in my life about anyone.

  Rose is my rock. My pulse. She’s the reason I get up in the morning.

  And today, she’s my date for this wedding.

  I knock on her door, quickly taking a last look at myself to make sure I still look damn good — I do — before I hear her sliding the lock free from the inside.

  The door opens. My heart stops.

  “Hey, John.” She turns away, perfectly unaware of the fact that I’ve gone into cardiac arrest in her hallway. “I’m running a little late. Just need a few minutes.”

  Rose wears a navy-blue dress with short sleeves. The skirt ends at her knees and, unlike those tight pencil skirts I’m so fond of, this one has a bit of flair that sways with her hips. Strappy black heels. Blonde hair up without even a single loose lock dangling down. Bright eyes shine behind her glasses.

  My lungs lurch.

  Breathe, Johnny.

  Rose slides an earring into her lobe. “John, you okay?” she asks, noticing me with a chuckle.

  “Rose, I love…” I bite my tongue, “that dress.”

  “Yeah?” She gives me a quick twirl. “Is it really okay? I changed three times.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “And you…” She looks me up and down. “You clean up nicely.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know, Darling. I think I’m just going to make you look bad.”

  She laughs. “I guess we’ll see. Are you going to come in or stand out there?”

  “I am going to come in,” I say, walking forward and kicking the door closed behind me, “and do this.”

  I grab her hand and pull her closer to me.

  “Wait, wait—” she says.

  I crush my lips on hers. She relaxes in my arms and kisses me back, softly chuckling as her hand slides over my neck.

  “That’s the only one you get,” she says, backing up. “I don’t want to keep redoing my lipstick.”

  “Well, in that case—”

  I tug her back in for another kiss. Our lips blend and caress together, matching like perfect puzzle pieces, and my heart thumps like crazy.

  Rose lays a hand on my chest and guides me back. “Later,” she teases. “We’re just friends today, remember?”

  “Just friends.” I nod. “Got it.”

  “I’m going to grab my purse and then I think we’re ready.” She points at my face and winks. “You may want to fix your lipstick, too.”

  I touch my lips and that bright color rubs off on my fingers. “I don’t know. This shade totally brings out my eyes, doesn’t it?”

  She laughs, and the world makes sense.

  “Holy crap.”

  I smile. Rose has said it about fourteen times since we got here, but it gets no less cute. Her wide eyes peek out through her glasses, touching any and everything they can throughout each room we pass through. The foyer, the kitchen, especially the back garden.

  I’ll admit, I’m a bit impressed with the garden myself. The last time I saw it was at a press event organized by Cary Pierce himself. He wanted to show off the team he was about to coach to victory. Tall bushes. Bright lights. The photographers went so nuts I had spots in my vision for days afterward.

  Now, it looks even better. They’ve set up dozens of chairs with a wide aisle between them; the rows pointed toward a white altar. Rose petals cover the pool on the opposite side. A string quartet plays softly nearby. Most of the team has already arrived, sitting in chairs scattered around both sides with their dates.

  “This is adorable,” Rose says, glancing around.

  I admire her grin. “Yes, it is.”

  We walk down the aisle together to find our seats. I catch multiple eyes staring us down — including Douglas Floyd.

  Suck it, jerk.

  I knew Junior invited the whole team, but I didn’t expect many of the defensive linemen to show up, especially not him. He sits near the back with Samantha Jaxx, of all people. I guess he didn’t get the memo about a classy plus one, or he flat out ignored it.

  To her credit, Samantha looks like she’s taking the occasion seriously with a tasteful black cocktail dress but she’s got her face so immersed in her phone that she hasn’t noticed how hard Douglas is staring at Rose.

  I sit us down on the opposite side near the front.

  Rose glances around, her eyes sparkling with glee. Then she pauses, her face falling as she spins forward again.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “Yep,” she answers. “So, that’s Junior Morgan.”

  I look at him by the altar. He’s oddly calm for a guy about to get married, smiling and chatting with Ty Fisher standing beside him. “That’s Junior.”

  “I don’t think I’ve seen him this close before…”

  I laugh. “One of your finest qualities, Rose.”

  She chuckles. “He has quite the reputation with the ladies.”

  “He’s a one-woman man now. Well, two, if you count his daughter.”

  “Oh!” She glances around. “I keep hearing about this perfect baby girl. Where is she?”

  “I’m sure she’ll make an appearance…” I say, scanning the rows.

  After a few minutes, the string quartet swells into the familiar wedding march. Heads swivel, eager to catch their first glimpses of the blushing bride.

  But first, it’s just Grant.

  Rose gasps, along with every other lady sitting around.

  Grant holds Junior and Alyssa’s daughter in one arm with a basket full of flower petals in the other. He reaches in and tosses a few on the grass, prompting little Courtney to do the same as he walks slowly toward the altar.

  “Oh, my gosh…” Rose coos.

  I nod. “Yeah, that’s Courtney Morgan.”

  “That baby couldn’t be cuter.”

  “I know, right?” I glance over at her and shrug. “You could probably do better, though.”

  She pauses, her eyes flicking in my direction as her cheeks turn bright red. “Who’s the guy?” she whispers, changing the subject.

  I lean in closer. “That’s Grant.”

  “He looks familiar.”

  “Do you go to school plays?”

  She nods with recognition. “That’s where I know him from. He was the lead with Alyssa last year.”

  “Uh-huh.” Grant winks at me as he passes us by. “He lives with Ty Fisher.”

  “Like… lives with Ty Fisher?”

  Grant stops at the altar and passes the baby into Junior’s loving arms. Before he takes his spot on the bride’s side, he plants a kiss on Ty’s cheek.

  Rose sighs. “Aw.”

  Everyone looks back again as the first few notes of “Here Comes the Bride” strike our ears.

  Another round of blissful sighs breaks through the crowd, everyone staring at Alyssa as she takes her first steps down the long aisle in her white dress.

  Rose’s jaw drops, her eyes locked on the man giving her away. “Holy crap.”

  I chuckle. “Calm down, Rose.”

  “It’s Cary Pierce,” she squeals softly.

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Holy crap.”

  “Shh.”

  I take her hand to soothe the fangirl fit as they march by us.

  While everyone else stares at the happy couple with their baby between them, I can’t break my gaze on Rose. I used to think that kind of relationship was unattainable.

  I’m not so sure anymore.

  Rose peeks over at me, realizing that I’m still holding her hand on my lap. I see that look of unease behind her glasses, but she doesn’t pull away.

  Instead, she looks at me and smiles.

  And then it hits me.

  I’m going to spend the rest of my life with Rose Hawthorne.

  CHAPTER 26

  ROSE

  After the ceremony, the ushers lead us into the house for the reception. I relish in the opportunity to take another look around Cary Pierce’s house.

  Twenty tables are scattered in the east wing ballroom with a dance floor in the center. A DJ has already taken his place near the front table, just waiting for the signal to kick the beat up a notch.

  Junior and Alyssa stand by the doorway, greeting guests as they walk in. Most of us rush to Alyssa first since she’s holding the baby, while the football players mostly just shake Junior’s hand.

  “Congratulations, Alyssa,” I tell her. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

  “Thank you,” she says, shaking my hand while expertly balancing her daughter in the other arm.

  “Rose,” I say, noticing her head tilt.

  “Ahh, yes! You’re one of the team’s plus ones. It’s nice to meet you.” She glances around. “Which one are you with?”

  I point toward him and Junior. “John.”

  She blinks twice. “John?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “John Kirby?”

  “Is that bad?”

  She laughs. “No, no. You just…” Her eyes flick between me and him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem so normal and he’s…”

  “Eccentric?”

  “That’s a nice way of putting it, yes.”

  “What can I say?” I shrug. “He has his finer qualities.”

  “I’m going to take your word for it.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  We laugh and I manage a quick poke of the baby’s cheeks before walking in with John. I smile as he pulls out my chair for me.

  “So, she has a really high opinion of you,” I tell him as I sit down.

  “Who? Alyssa?”

  “Yeah.”

  He sits down beside me. “She just knows what Junior tells her.”

  “And what does Junior tell her?”

  “Lies and heresy.”

  I glance around, taking in the faces of his teammates, and I wonder just how many people here can say they really know John Kirby. How many of them know how smart he is? How romantic he is? I probably know him better than anyone. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me feel a little warmer inside.

  The guests settle in for the various traditions that keep the DJ nice and preoccupied. Junior and Alyssa share their first dance. He dances with his mother and sister. She dances with her father and Junior’s father. It’s the musical chairs of partner swapping until the DJ opens the floor to everyone else.

  “Dance with me.”

  I blink, slowly realizing that those words came from John. “No,” I say.

  “Come on,” he says, reaching below the table for my hand. “It’s a slow song.”

  “Do you even know how to dance? You know your end zone shimmy doesn’t count, right?”

  He stands me up out of my chair before I can argue any further. “Yes, Rose,” he says, leading me to the floor. “I know how to dance.”

  I step forward, yanked softly by his momentum, and he embraces me like a fragile flower in his hands. He rests a palm on my waist and entwines his fingers in mine with the other, leading me with the gentle sway of the music.

  “Okay.” I chuckle. “You’ve done this before.”

  “Rose.” He speaks at a low, steady volume. “I’m about to tell you something that I’ve never told anyone else before.”

  I catch the serious look in his eyes, and my chest flutters. “All right.”

  “I have twelve cousins,” he says. “All of them are girls.”

  I tilt my head. “Twelve?”

  He nods. “My mother has four sisters. Each of them had girls… but she had me.”

  “You’re the only male in your generation?”

  “Yep. Now, eight of my cousins have gotten married in the last six years and I’ve been to every single one of those weddings.”

  “Whoa. That’s a lot of weddings.”

  “Yes, it is.” He smiles. “My mother — with her infinite wisdom and foresight — saw this coming, and she didn’t want me embarrassing her at these little shindigs, so… when I was fifteen, she made me take dance classes with her.”

  I pause, staring into his serious eyes. “You’ve taken dance classes?”

  “And I’m not talking about a few hours of box stepping, one-two-three, one-two-three. No, I’m talking Monday-Wednesday-Friday for ten straight weeks.”

  My jaw drops. “Oh, my.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “What did you learn?”

  “Everything. The waltz, line dancing, square dancing, the tango—”

  “Wait — you can tango?”

  “The mambo, the merengue, disco, swing—”