Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“I just hope she takes me back. I did a really shitty thing to her and I’m not sure she’s ready to forgive me.”
“She’s ready,” wobbles out. A tidal wave of relief hits me. Being wrong never felt so right. He’s not too good to be true. He’s the real deal.
Without fanfare or warning, he grabs me and wraps me in a human enchilada. Then he kisses me, kisses me like we’ve been parted by oceans and wars, like we’re standing on the bow of the Titanic. And I kiss him back. I kiss him with everything I’ve got. For being the man I hoped he was, for not letting me down, for loving me back…for proving that unicorns are real.
The wolf whistles and claps don’t stop us from mauling each other. The screams to get a room don’t do it, either. On the contrary I jump him, clasping my legs around his waist and holding on with all my might, holding on as if he’s the only fixed point in the universe. And for me, he is.
“No more underhanded moves. No more playing with the truth. I mean it, Ethan. You leave that shit at the office.”
“Promise.”
“What about your beautiful home?” I say, caressing his beloved face, the scruff he almost never has prickly under my fingertips.
“It’s a bunch of walls without you.”
Ugh. That’s gross, and disgusting, and damn near perfect. I’m melting. I’m melting into a puddle of gooey love for this man.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare bedroom, would you?” I can feel the heavy beat of his heart through our shirts. He’s not taking anything for granted.
Holding his face, I stroke his cheek and force him to look me in the eyes. “Nope. We’ll have to share mine.”
His grin is immediate and true, beaming joy so brightly sunglasses are required. “I was hoping you’d say that. Also, I’d like to be married before minicamp. I’ve got a couple of young guys that’ll need a lot of––”
“What? That’s next month!” I’m screeching. He’s got me screeching. “Have you been doing whippets?” I struggle to get out of his grip but he holds on tighter, big hands squeezing my ass in the process.
“Need a lot of attention so it’s got to be next month.”
I swear he has me by the balls––or maybe the heart. While I huff and glower, he bats those ridiculous eyelashes at me.
“Don’t even. That nonsense does not work on me.”
“Doesn’t it?” the sexy bastard intones, biting his lips to stop the smug smile from spreading across his face.
“Fine, it works. But no kids. Not for a long, looong time.”
“I’m thinking five.”
“You’ve definitely been doing whippets. One––at the most. And no crazy names like Echo, or Horizon, or Genesis. That’s a hard limit.”
“Duly noted. Now tell me how much you love me.” A ghost of something vulnerable passes across his face. It hits me in the gut.
How can he not know? How can he not know that he’s everything? And I realize something then, love isn’t about grand gestures and romance. It’s about forgiveness and acceptance. It’s a million tiny moments. Day in and day out, letting the person you love know that they’re valued, telling them what they mean to you every single day because there are no assurances you’ll get another.
“Fancy McButterpants, you’re my unicorn. Without you, my story has no happy ending.” My bottom lip trembling, I take a fortifying breath and gather the courage to tell him what he should already know. “I love you beyond everything.” His mouth curves up, relief smoothing out the baby v between his brows and joy turning his eyes into crescents. Looking into the eyes of my lover, the love of my life, I feel the truth of that statement all the way to the marrow of my bones. “Every piece of me loves every piece of you, Eth…always will.”
Mischief makes his lips quirk. “I love you much more than that.”
I tsk and chuckle while he wipes the last of my tears away. “So competitive.”
Sagging against him, I drop my face in the curve of his neck, the one place I belong, and breathe him in. “I’ll let you win this time.”
“Hold my trophy while I kiss you,” he murmurs.
“Gladly.”
The end…or better yet, the beginning.
Epilogue
“Nervous?”
I turn to the owner of the voice, as well as my heart. I mean, can anyone wear a designer tux better that this dude? That’s a rhetorical question, the unequivocal answer is no. He squeezes my hand and soothes my nerves with one of his real smiles, the one he reserves only for me.
“This isn’t what makes me nervous, Fancy Pants.”
A few silver strands near his ear get my attention. He’s even more handsome than when I met him.
In case you’re wondering, Ethan continued representing his clients while Andi made full partner and ran the New York office. My brilliant Serpico mind always suspected he was the better one of the two of us and he proved me right. After two years in Los Angeles spent sitting in traffic and logging way too many miles going from audition to audition, we talked about it and decided to move back to New York. We missed our family and friends. Which turned out to be perfect timing because after five years of missing the playoffs, the NY Gladiators were looking for a new GM and my unicorn got the job.