“You’re not mad, are you?” she asked softly.
“What?” My brows flew up.
“I mean, we finally get together, and I see this whole future stretched out in front of us, but instead of grabbing on with both hands and jumping in, I’m moving out.” Her face crumpled. “You know it’s not about you, right? Because I love you.”
“Teagan, no.” I lifted her to the counter, then stepped between her thighs so we were at the same eye level. “I’m not mad. Am I going to miss you around the house? Hell yes. I’ll miss listening to your music while you paint, and waking up with you pressed against me.”
“At least no one will steal your covers,” she mumbled.
“I couldn’t give a shit if you steal the covers, not when I have you to keep me warm.” I gripped her hips.
“Nice line.” A corner of her mouth lifted.
“You should let me pick you up in a bar sometime. I’ll steal your panties before you even get a drink.” I wiggled my eyebrows.
She laughed, but it faded. “I want to be strong enough for you,” she admitted quietly, lacing her hands behind my neck. “I want to be able to stand at your side…not behind you, and I can’t do that if I’ve never been on my own.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” My heart clenched. “I can trust that you love me. You don’t have to live in my house for me to know that.”
She took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Right. And it’s not that I’m not choosing you.”
“You’re choosing you,” I said unflinchingly.
“Right. And we’ll have sleepovers.” She nodded.
“Just like when we were kids.” I grinned.
Her face fell. “I mean, not just like when we were kids, right?”
I gave that some thought. “Well, I did always love taking baths with you.”
“Roman!” she backhanded my chest lightly. “I’m serious. I know you love me, and you know the sex is great.”
“Just great?” I threw on my best wounded look.
“Shut up,” she demanded, blushing. “It’s earth-shaking. Happy?”
“Definitely.” I grinned and tugged her ass a little closer, so our hips aligned.
She swallowed, her breath catching a little. “Right. What if…” She pressed her lips in a flat line.
“What if…” I prodded, keeping her gaze locked on mine.
“What if me moving out shows you that everything that’s going on between us is just because I’m…convenient?” She cringed.
“Convenient,” I drawled slowly.
“You know because I was already living in your house?” It was only the stark tinge of fear that raced through her baby blues that kept me from dismissing that ridiculous notion.
“I’m glad you mentioned that,” I said instead, maneuvering slightly to get the small, tiffany-blue ring box out of my pocket. “I don’t think this is convenient.” I put the box on the counter.
Her eyes flared, and she gasped.
“Eyes up here.” My heart pounded even harder than it had after that sixty-one-yard run this week, and my stomach threatened to turn over on me.
She jerked her gaze back to mine.
“This isn’t convenient. This is scary as hell because we’ve both got everything on the line. Teagan, you’re my best friend. My oldest friend. Our relationship is at the core of who I am, and we’re risking it all because what we can be is just that good. I’m so in love with you that I know you’re it for me. I’ve never loved a woman the way I love you, and I never will again.”
Her lips parted.
“You and me? We’re the endgame. I don’t care if we’ve been together for weeks, months, years, or decades. We. Are. The. Endgame. So if you’re asking me if I’m going to get distracted, or fall out of love with you because you need a little independence, just look at that box. I’m in this.”
Her lower lip trembled. “You don’t think it’s too fast?”
“I told my mom I was going to marry you when we were five years old,” I whispered, leaning forward to brush her lips with mine. “I wouldn’t call twenty-one years too fast. And the truth is that I know you might not be ready, and that’s okay.”
“It is?” Her brow furrowed.
“It is. That ring right there will wait until you’re just as certain of us as I am. No rush. No wedding date. No pressure. Just the promise that the minute you’re ready to say yes, I’ll be here to slip it on your finger, whether that’s tomorrow or in ten years. My love isn’t going to waver.”
She glanced toward the box. “And if I said I wanted it now?”
My pulse skittered. “Then I’d drop to one knee and ask you to marry me. That’s how certain I am that we’re going to make it.”
She pushed at my chest, and I backed away, my stomach falling to the floor. Then she hopped off the counter and gave me a shaky smile. “Prove it.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Prove it. I want it now.”
My heart stopped. Breathing, thinking, moving…it all stopped.
“Roman?”
I sucked in a breath, snatched the ring box from the counter and fell to one knee on the linoleum. I’d probably thought of this moment a thousand times throughout my life, and now that it was here, my thoughts were all a jumbled-up mess, but I managed to crack the lid on the box and hold it up.
She didn’t even look at the diamond. Her eyes were fully locked on mine.
“Teagan Ray Hall, I’ve loved you since we were kids. I’ve been in love with you since we were teenagers. I will love you every day for the rest of my life. I’ll ask as many times as you need and wait for as long as I’m still breathing. Will you do me the incredible honor of being my wife?”
“Yes.” Her smile would have sent me to my knees if I wasn’t already there.
“Really?” Smooth.
“Yes, really!” She laughed.
I scrambled to my feet. “It doesn’t have to be right now, or anything. We can wait however long you want.”
“I got that part.” She arched a brow, her eyes sparkling with the sheen of unshed tears. “I love you. I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to spend my life with. You’re everything, Roman.”
I cupped her face and kissed her hard, nearly losing control of the ring box. So much for having some of the steadiest hands in the NFL. “Where do you want me to put this?”
“On my finger!” Her laughter was contagious, but somehow I managed to slide the tiffany-cut solitaire onto her left hand. It fit perfectly. “Roman, it’s gorgeous!”
“Just like you.”
She shook her head. One day I’d get her to believe that.
“I swear, we’re the only couple who gets engaged the day they move out of the same house.” She snorted.
“It’ll just be that much sweeter when you’re ready to move back in. Or we’ll buy a new house. Something that’s just ours.”
Her gaze jerked to mine. “Absolutely not! I love your house!”
“Then it’s our house. Whenever you’re ready for it—whenever you’re ready for me.” I kissed her softly, sealing that promise, but just like every other time we kissed, need erupted between us.
I lifted her into my arms and carried her back to her bedroom.
We tried our damnedest, but we couldn’t pop that bed. It held firm as I slid deep inside her. It rocked slightly when she begged for me to take her harder. It didn’t give under her hands when she gripped the headboard and leveraged so she could rock back against me with even more force.
It was only after I’d taken her twice and brought her to orgasm three times that I realized she wouldn’t be getting her security deposit back.
Yeah, the bed had held up all right…held up right through the drywall.
She laughed and kissed me, swearing it was worth it.
Hell yeah, it was. Everything was worth it when it came to Teagan.
Every year of waiting.
Every almost.
E
very kiss.
Every tear.
And it was finally our turn to be happy…even if she had to move out to get us there.
14
Teagan
Sweet floral notes mixed with the light scent of vegetation as Roman led me through the gardens of the JC Raulston Arboretum. My high heels clicked against the cobblestone path as we made our way inside the venue the Raptors had secured for the event—a fundraising party to benefit Feed The Children, an organization dedicated to fighting childhood hunger.
Roman held the glass door open for me, and I smiled at him as I stepped inside. Chatter and music filled the space, all manner of Raptors and cheerleaders and celebrity athletes huddled around tables draped in cream linens, sipping from crystal and snacking on delicacies offered from silver platters.
We spotted our friends at a table near the far-left corner of the room—the walls made up of floor-to-ceiling glass windows offering a perfect view of the Finley-Nottingham Rose Gardens outside. The night sky was clear, but the chill in the air kept everyone happily inside. The view was beyond gorgeous—all lush greenery and still-blooming roses illuminated by twinkle lights and the moon high above.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Roman whispered in my ear as we made our way over to our friends.
A warm chill fluttered down my spine as his hand slid over my lower back. I grinned up at him, my heart stuttering at the way he looked in his black suit and red tie—an outfit to match my dress.
I ran my hands self-consciously over the red material. When I’d tried it on last week, I hadn’t been able to stop the doubts that automatically filled my head at choosing such a dress for this event. An off-the-shoulder with a sleek A-line, the fabric hugged every curve and put my sizable breasts on display in a tasteful yet confident way. It had a flirty above-the-knee length in the front, only to trail behind me at floor-length in the back. After I’d shaken off the nerves, I’d stared in the mirror, smiling at the powerful red color and the lace adornments over the ribs. It screamed sexy and confident…powerful.
I’d bought the dress with the hopes that it would blow Roman’s mind.
It hadn’t disappointed. When he’d picked me up earlier tonight, he’d been ready to blow off the event and keep me all to himself.
My fiancé.
The title clanged through me, filling my heart. The diamond on my left-hand ring finger a welcomed, comforting support.
“I’m glad I went with the red,” I said, grazing my fingers over his cheek as we continued to walk. “And I’m even more glad you went with the suit,” I said, eying him. “You look good enough to eat.”
Roman flashed me a smirk, tucking me into his side as we stopped at our friend’s table. “Later,” he whispered the promise into my ear, and my pulse spiked.
How could he do that? Make it to where nothing else existed outside of him. All I wanted to do was haul him into the nearest private room and show him exactly what he did to me.
“Damn, Teagan,” Savannah practically meowed as I sat my small clutch on the bar-height table they were crowded around.
“I second that,” Liberty said, raising her hand as they both smiled at me.
Usually this was the time I’d shamefully look away, worried about my body, my curves, the attention it might draw.
Not tonight.
Not now.
I extended my arms and did a little spin for my girls. “You like?”
“Love!” Savannah said after taking a sip of her champagne. She eyed Roman. “Can’t believe you let this bombshell walk out of the house looking so smoking, Padilla,” she teased.
I swallowed hard, knowing Savannah wouldn’t understand the tension in the joke. Wouldn’t understand there had been several occasions where someone hadn’t let me out of the house wearing what I’d chosen, but instead made me change under threat of embarrassing him.
“Something this beautiful can’t possibly be kept in a cage,” Roman said, smoothing his hand up and down my spine. “Besides,” he continued. “She’s her own woman. If she’d wanted to show up in her favorite Nirvana T-shirt and paint-stained sweatpants, she’d still be the most gorgeous woman in the room.”
My heart melted at his easy declaration, at the pride in his voice, the love there.
“God, whipped much?” Hendrix teased from Savannah’s right but flashed me an approving wink. I returned his smile, internally questioning where his usual entourage of hopeful blondes were hiding. The man donned a royal blue suit that made his crushing blue eyes pop, his dark blond hair unkempt and wild like he’d just left one of his prospect’s beds.
“There is a huge difference between adoration and whipped, Hollywood,” Roman fired back, a laugh on his lips. “You’d know that if you ever stopped bed-hopping for a second.”
Hendrix cocked a brow at him. “Speaking of whips,” he said, and Savannah groaned.
“God, not another one of your sexscapade stories, please. We haven’t had enough drinks for that,” she said.
Hendrix shifted his gaze down at Savannah, a wolfish grin shaping his mouth as he eyed her black sequined romper that showed off her mile-long legs. She’d opted for a pair of black stilettos with metal spikes protruding from the back over her normal moto-boots tonight, and part of me cringed at the thought that she might impale Hendrix with one of those heels, depending on what came out of his mouth next.
“From the look you chose tonight, Savannah,” he said, his voice low. “A whip in your hand wouldn’t be too far off—”
“Hendrix,” Nixon snapped, then sent a playful glare to Liberty, who had snort-laughed.
Heat bloomed on Savannah’s cheeks, but she shifted to face him fully, her chin tilting up ever so slightly as she stared up at him with unflinching confidence. “In your case, Hendrix, I’d opt for a chain.”
Roman had a coughing fit that startled even me, but I couldn’t take my gaze off the two—they looked like they might tear each other apart right there. We’d lose our best wide receiver because my money was absolutely on Savannah.
Hendrix huffed a laugh. “Been dreaming about me again?”
I gaped at him. At the boldness in the tease. Sure, we were all friends, all close as family, but Savannah was the coach’s daughter, and she was as off-limits as they came. Even in this innocent, joking form.
Nixon’s eyes narrowed, but Hendrix didn’t seem aware that the rest of us were still very much here, listening to every word they said. Kind of hard not to hear when we all stood around the same incredibly small table.
“You wish, Hollywood,” she said, appraising him with the same look he had her. “Trust me, if I were to dream about anyone, it wouldn’t be a man who has to switch sheets more often than he washes his million-dollar hair.”
Roman choked on another laugh, his hand snaking around my hip to draw me closer as a waiter with a platter of champagne flutes stopped by our table. “We’ll need another tray of these,” he said, handing me a flute before taking one for himself. He glanced at Nixon, who was glaring at Hendrix, who hadn’t broken eye contact with Savannah, who continued to glare up at him. “Make that two platters,” he corrected, and the waiter hurried off with a nod.
Hendrix motioned to Savannah with his half-drank flute. “People like you are the problem,” he said, and I flinched at the quick hurt that flashed in her eyes. It was gone in a blink. “People who judge, who think I’m a man-whore just because I enjoy sex.” He shook his head. “Everyone I sleep with knows what they’re getting into when they climb on my lap—a good time, once. Maybe twice. No more. I never lie. I never cheat. And I sure as hell never give them false expectations.” He tossed back the rest of his champagne before sitting his empty flute on the table. “But please,” he continued. “Keep judging and joking like you have any clue what real pleasure is like.”
Savannah scoffed, her arms dropping to her sides.
“Ten bucks she slaps him,” I whispered into Roman’s ear.
“Twenty,” he s
aid.
But Savannah merely smirked up at him. “I wasn’t judging, Hollywood,” she said, stepping closer to him, their bodies almost touching as she never shied away from his intense blue gaze. “I merely wonder what it is you’re running from?”
A muscle ticked in Hendrix’s jaw, and I blushed from the implication in her words. We’d crossed over from playful banter to emotional digging. And something darker churned in Hendrix’s normally crushing blue eyes. Something I couldn’t place, but it was strong enough for me to tear my eyes off the two and silently question Liberty on what we should do.
“Who wants to see pictures of the baby!” Liberty blurted, reaching in her clutch for her phone.
“I do!” I hurried to say, thankful for literally anything to change the subject.
Savannah blinked a few times before turning her back on Hendrix, her eyes focused on the photo up on Liberty’s screen.
“She’s getting so big!” I said, eying the shot of Nicole. She had Liberty’s eyes and Nixon’s dark hair and smile. “I need to see her again,” I said, grinning. “It’s been too long.”
Liberty smiled up at Nixon while she continued to show us the most recent photos.
Savannah finished her champagne, awing along with the rest of us.
And Hendrix clapped Nixon on the back before disappearing into the crowd across the room.
Roman grew still and quiet during the photo show, his eyes distant.
Was he worried about Hendrix getting into trouble? The man had always loved testing any boundaries or rules ever set by anyone—naturally, he’d take any opportunity he could to get a rise out of Savannah, but it was all in good fun. Right? Coach wouldn’t actually—
“Omigod, Teagan!” Liberty dropped her phone on the table, her eyes widening as she stared at my left hand.
“Wait, what?” Savannah followed her gaze and instantly grabbed my hand, nearly jerking my arm out of socket as she tugged me around the table. “You didn’t tell us?”
“I was about to,” I said, tears glittering my eyes from the excitement building up my throat. “We got side-tracked—”
Roman (Raleigh Raptors Book 2) Page 15
