Page 104 of Let's Be Forever

Before he seals our lips together, he says, “I promise I’m going to take care of it.”

“Please don’t do anything stupid,” I reply skeptically.

“Trust me, I’ve never been more clearheaded. It’s all going to be okay.”

And I don’t doubt him as I let him kiss me.

“Now let’s stop talking about my parents. Your birthday is coming up.”

“Our birthday,” I correct him. It’s not the same day, but it’s a few days apart.

Just like Christmas, he was never a huge fan of celebrating. I know it’s because of his parents, but when we were together, he didn’t mind doing something.

“But your birthday is first,” he says.

I roll my eyes. “And a few days later, it’ll be yours.”

Sylas lifts me up, guiding me to straddle him. “I have everything I need. I don’t need anything else.”

I groan. “There has to be something you want.”

He flashes me a tantalizing grin, a dimple denting his cheek. “You, crawling for me.”

My lips hover over his ear. “But what if I want to see you crawl for me?”

Sylas wets his lips and shifts beneath me. “I can make that happen.”

42

SYLAS

Marc catches the rebound,taking possession of the puck. He skates behind the net, passing it to Matias who passes it to me. I deke the goalie and shoot the puck into the net, earning us our second goal of the night.

“And the Punisher strikes again!” Marc skates straight toward me as do the other guys, and they corral around me, celebrating with me.

In college, while the name wasn’t necessarily my favorite, I went along with it. But now, I couldn’t love it any more. I didn’t realize how much I would miss it and playing with Marc until now.

It was inevitable I’d split ways with Marcello after we left college. And while it was always possible we’d play together again, I didn’t think it’d happen. Not until now, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

The love of my life is back, I’m playing with my best friend, and life just couldn’t be any better.

“I’m not calling him the Punisher. You’re going to give him a complex.” Callan laughs. “Asshole already has one.”

I blow him a kiss as we skate over the bench and slap my gloved hand against my teammates.

“You have to. It’ll fuck everything up if you don’t,” Marc gravely states, taking my second goal of the night as a sign to keep the tradition alive.

He’s superstitious and doesn’t play about anything revolving the game.

Callan seems inconvenienced, almost looks like he’ll dismiss the demand, but not a moment later, he and the rest of the guys are using the moniker.

I laugh and then it dawns on me how much fun I’m having. I take every game seriously, but even I’ll admit I haven’t been playing the way I am now, since coming to Boston.

The lines have changed but we’re both still on the ice. “I missed playing with you.” March exhales a breath, smiling at me.

I return the smile as we get in position, mirroring his enthusiasm. “I know you did.”

He glares at the haughty tone in my voice. I’ve no doubt he’s muttering “asshole” under his breath. Just like old times.