Page 127 of Fall For Me
“Anytime, mate.”
“You know, if you’re ever in New York, you should give us a shout,” Sean offers up.
“Too right.” Jake grins.
We say our goodbyes, then Sean laces his fingers through mine and leads me out to the truck.
“So . . . What’s the plan now since all our friends bailed on us?” I ask, hopping into the passenger seat.
He leans in, stealing a quick kiss, then buckles me in.
“You looking to get into a little trouble, Rebel?”
Smiling up at him, I wonder what he has in store for us. “Trouble found me the minute I found you, Mac.”
He shuts my door with a smirk and rounds the vehicle. Sliding in beside me, he gives my hand a few kisses, then starts the engine.
“Oh my, God. Did you do this?” I laugh as “Steel of the Night” plays through the speakers. “You remembered?”
“How could I forget the wail of that busted up dying cat?” He chuckles, earning him a smack on the arm.
Rolling down the window, he turns the music all the way up and takes off. I don’t even care about how cold the air is; I stick my hand out the window to catch it, and we both sing at the top of our lungs. The further we drive, the more everything begins to look familiar. We pull up across the street from the open gate, and he winks at me with a lopsided grin on his face, before hopping out of the truck.
“Looks like they forgot to lock up.”
“Good thing too. Climbing that fence last time almost took you out.”
“Did not.” He laughs. “I climbed that bitch like a champ.”
Sean shines the flashlight from his phone over the cactus, and I swear to God, if I never see another one again in my life, it'd still be way too soon. That shit hurts.
“So, your first game as our official head coach is in a couple ofdays. How are you feeling?” he asks as we hike up the path to the lookout.
“Good. I may not have played professional hockey, Mac, but I know my shit . . . I mean, we’ve already established I can skate circles around you.”
“Oh. So, that’s how we’re playin’ it,” he says with a laugh.
I look over and wink. “Yeah. I guess it is.”
“And if we lose?”
“We’re not losing. Their defense keeps overcommitting below the goal line. Sooner or later, somebody’s gonna find the open man in the slot, and that someone will be us.”
“You know that’s not what I’m getting at, Rebel. What if someone says something about your calls?”
A long, drawn-out sigh escapes my lips. “Bad calls are gonna happen. Fuck ‘em.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses the top of my head. “That’s my girl. Fuck ‘em.”
We scale up the rock, and when we get to the top, I look out at the city, reflecting on how much my life has changed in the course of a year and a half. Sean comes up behind me, wrapping one arm around my middle, and my hand settles over his. The opening notes of Train begin to play, and I smile, leaning back against him. “Someone’s becoming a bit of a romantic. Gone is my broody asshole.”
“Oh, he still very much lives on, he’s just tucked away right now.”
I laugh, but as Pat Monahan sings the chorus of Marry Me, something slips onto my ring finger, and my laughter trails off.
“Marry me, Rebel.”
My heart hammers in my ears, and I lose my breath. Spinning around to face him, I try to find the words to say, but they won’t come. Accepting my silence as a no, he nods and shoves his hands into his pockets.
