Page 91 of The Sweet Spot
“I absolutely was. I love you, Whit Marlow.”
My breath catches at the back of my throat. I wasn't expecting that. It’s the first time he’s officially said them instead of accidentally blurting them out during sex.
“That's why I rejected the All-Star invite this year. I wanted to play with you because I love you more than anything else.”
“The Catfish also wanted to see us reunite,” I say, trying to change the subject.
The serious look on JB's face tells me that he's not going to let me get away with it. Why would he? That's usually his thing.
I look down at the ball, feeling my shoulders relax before I clear my throat and look up at him. “I love you too.”
When the words leave my mouth, it feels like I can finally breathe. I watch his face as he processes the first time I’ve ever said it back to him.
“Y—you do?”
I nod.
“Really? Because once it's out in the universe, there's no taking it back.”
I step in, cup his cheeks, and kiss him quickly. “I love you, Jonathan Brian Callahan. There's no one else I want in this world to be my rat companion but you.”
“Did you just call me your rat companion?”
“Don't make me take it back.”
“No, no.” He catches both my wrists before I can step away. “I'm just trying to process the fact that you love me.”
I roll my eyes.
“Oh, stop being so dramatic.”
“You’re right/ I knew that already.”
That makes me freeze. “You did?”
“Of course.” He shrugs. “You yell at me when I stretch wrong. You make me protein shakes that taste like drywall because they're 'good for recovery.' You moved into my apartment and organized my sock drawer.”
“I was trying to help.”
“You labeled the drawers, Whit.”
“You keep putting golf tees in them.”
“Exactly. That's love.”
He scoops me into his arms and kisses me deeper this time.
“You know, I think we need to get matching shirts,” he says against my lips.
“Oh, no.”
“Rat Companions Forever.”
I pull away and hoist my golf bag over my shoulder.
“Home Is Where The Rat Is.”
Shaking my head, I walk toward the golf cart. He's still following me.
“'Whit loves JB' would also be a strong contender.”
I glance at him from over my shoulder. “Come on, JB. We need to win this tournament and the only way we're going to do that is if we focus.”
“I can focus, Coach,” he says as I place my bag in the back of the golf cart. He puts his right next to mine.
Mr and Mrs.
That's what it looks like, but again, I don't want to set my boyfriend off by saying it.
Straightening my visor, I glance at JB. “Ready?”
“Then let's go defend our title.”
He's already grinning before I finish the sentence. “Right behind you, Coach.”
THE END
