Because I don’t care anymore.
I only care about Jace.
It doesn’t matter that everybody knows, that the whole damn world knows, because theyshouldknow. The team that drafts me should be a team that knows exactly who I am, right down to the core. I want them to seeme, the real me. Including my Jace. I’m done pretending to be someone I’m not.
So fuck them all.
Jace melts against me, completely oblivious to the cheers, the flash of cameras, the sound of Lamar cackling as he slaps me on the back like a maniac.
And I let him. I let all of it happen, because none of it matters. Not compared to this.
I press in closer against my everything.
My world.
My entire fucking universe.
All I feel is Jace. All I see is him. And when I finally pull back, just enough to breathe, my euphoria is mirrored right fucking there.
“So,” he says, lips barely an inch from mine, his voice low and private, meant only for me, “you thought we should come out with a bang, huh?”
He’s beaming, cocky and soft all at once, like only Jace can be.
I can’t let go of his exquisite face. I know I should, people are watching, yelling, clapping,but I don’t care. Ineedthis right now.
I nod before kissing him again and again, slow, deep, unapologetic kisses. Like we’ve earned this. Like the entire world can wait a little longer. And damn,that tongue ring will be my undoing someday.
“Ty? Babe?” Jace breathes against my mouth, tightening his fingers on my wrists when my lips move from his mouth to his cheek.
“Hmm?” I murmur against his skin, soaking up the delicious scent of him, coming home again.
“I think you need to go get your trophy.”
“In a bit,” I pull back just far enough to meet his eyes, and fuck, there it is,everything.
My whole damn heart staring right back at me.
I didn’t plan to do it here. Shit, I really didn’t. But I can’t hold it in anymore. Hell, I spent an hour today carving a proposal on the damn bench.Ourbench. With permission from Lam’s mom, of course; it’s handy sometimes to know the mayor. It couldn’t wait until tomorrow, because after this morning, thisperfectmorning, everything in mescreamedto make sure it’s there for our next run.
It’s romantic as hell, the perfect spot for us. But I guess… this? This moment?
Might be even better.
And he sees it. Oh, fuck, he sees it all running wild through my head.
“Say it. Ask it.” His voice is soft, full of hope, full of knowing.
I know exactly what he wants me to ask. I just fuckingknow. I hear it again, his words from last month, when we sat by the ocean, the waves our only witnesses, everything glowing orange and gold.
But I don’t saythosewords. Not yet.
“Tell me something new.” I say instead.
He takes a deep breath, and I can tell by the glint in his eyes, that spark of challenge, that he knows exactly what I’m doing. Making him say it first. Making sure he’sall in.
And he is. Oh, how he fuckingis.
“I'm ready to say yes.”
