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“Holy shit!” January screams, and she jumps up and down. “They did it!”
“Did Daddy win?” June asks, and she screams, too.
“Daddy won,” I say, and I bury my face in her hair. “Daddy did it.”
Reporters try to shove their way past security, and I’ve never seen so many cameras in my life. Around me, the fans celebrate with hugs. My ears ring and I grin, watching the elation play out.
“Maven,” someone yells from below me, and I look down to find Dallas under the railing. “Get down here, baby.”
“I have June!” I yell back.
“Give her to me,” he says, and he lifts his arms. I hand her over, and he spins her around like an airplane when he has her safely in his hold. “Climb over and jump.”
“These pants are not made for jumping.” I laugh and point to the leather that feels like it’s painted on my body. “If they rip and I show off my ass to the world, I’m blaming you, Lansfield.”
“A risk I’m willing to take. Aiden—” he yells, and my dad looks our way. “Can you help her over?”
My dad goes into protective dad mode. He helps me navigate the ledge, not letting go of my arm until I’m on the other side. As soon as my feet hit the ground, Dallas is kissing me everywhere his lips can reach. I’m crying—I don’t know when I started to cry, just that I am—and his sweat-soaked jersey sticks to my skin.
“You did it,” I say into his neck. “Holy shit, Dallas. You did it.”
“Champions!” June yells, and I laugh.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Dallas says, and when I pull away to look down at him, his eyes are watery, too. “God, Maven. You’ve made this whole thing possible. This season. This win. This ring is yours, not mine, baby.”
“No. No way. You—Dallas.You played running back.”
“I know.” He grins. “It felt so good to be out there again on offense. I haven’t had that much fun in a game since college.”
“Does anything hurt? How’s your leg? And your head?”
“Fine and fine. I can’t believe y’all were here to see that.”
He holds my hand. We walk toward the celebrations, and he accepts a hat from someone. He puts it on backwards and I almost moan at how delicious he looks with his smudged eye paint and the red on his cheeks.
“As if we’d be anywhere else.” I kiss him again, and June squeals. “That was insane in the best possible way. You almost gave me a heart attack when you took the field, but look how it ended up.”
“I know. I couldn’t let my boys go through this alone. I knew there was no way I’d make it worse, and if I got hurt, then so be it.” He grins down at me. “Shawn told me to knock off the hero shit.”
“Youdoneed to knock off the hero shit,” I agree.
“Shit!” June says, and Dallas and I sigh in unison
“We really need to be better about that,” he says, and I nod. “She’s going to be expelled from kindergarten with that mouth.”
He gets swept into interviews and media coverage but keeps me by his side like he’s showing me off. When a reporter asks who I am, he turns to look at me, and with the dopiest grin on his face he tells her, “This is Maven. A phenomenal photographer, my best friend, and the love of my life.”
It makes me cry again.
We watch Jett win MVP, and he pulls Dallas on stage with him after he accepts the trophy. The whole time they speak and congratulate their team, I’m hit with the overwhelming sensation of how much I love that man.
I know we’ve said it dozens of times now, and millions more have yet to come, but I still feel that swoop in my stomach whenhe looks at me. I feel it in the way his eyes find mine over the throngs of people who want to celebrate him.
It’s especially noticeable when he politely bows out of a conversation with someone important the second June falls asleep against me. He takes my hand in his and leads us toward the locker room.
“Don’t you want to stay?” I ask. “I’m sure all the guys are going out, aren’t they?”
“Why would I want to go out when I have everything I need right here?” He reaches into the waistband of his pants, and I lift an eyebrow.
