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“I would be if it didn’t feel like you were only doing this to make me feel better about being out for the season.” He’s sulking. He’s so cute. And sensitive.
“It has nothing to do with that!” I say. Then I consider my reasons and decide I should rephrase. “Okay, so it has everything to do with you being out for the season.”
Alex pushes back up into a sitting position. I grab his good arm before he can try to run away from me. Not that he would be very fast, but I don’t want him to hurt himself. “You’re misunderstanding me. This accident opened my eyes to a lot of things, the most pivotal being how important you are to me.”
That stops him. He shifts so he can look at me. He’s still stiff, but he’s sensitive, so I assume he’s trying to reconcile his fragile ego.
“I know how hard this is on you. I know it’s killing you to see Randy doing so well. That’s not why I want to marry you this summer. This—” I gesture to his body, because there are a lot of parts that are still injured. “—made me very aware of how we only get one shot at life.”
“I don’t want this decision to be fear-based,” Alex says.
“It’s not.” I take his hand in mine and play with his fingers. His nails are longer than usual. Probably because he can’t cut them on his own. “Look, my mom’s wedding wasn’t fun for me. And you know how I am when I get into a group of people. I always make an ass out of myself. But I’m willing to deal with that kind of potential humiliation if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”
He regards me for a long moment. “You really want to get married this summer?”
I nod.
“And it’s not because you feel bad for me?”
“I wouldn’t marry you just to make you feel better about yourself, Alex. Usually your ego is plenty big without my help, anyway.”
He wears a small, cocky grin. “So you want to marry me to stake a claim on my dick?”
“Super MC deserves a wedding all his own. We’ll have a private Super MC and beaver ceremony.” I’ve thought about this a lot. I’ve even researched the costumes. Not that Alex needs to know this. A beaver only gets promised to her Super MC once in a lifetime.
“That sounds like fun.” His grin widens.
“It will be if my beaver has anything to do with planning it.”
Building him up is the best thing I can do for both of us. Also, it’s true. Alex is a lot of things—confident in the bedroom, amazing on the ice—but he also needs a lot of positive reinforcement. I used to think his asking if I was enjoying myself when we had sex was about courtesy.
Partly it is. He likes to know he’s making me feel good. It’s also because he wants affirmation that he’s getting me off. He loves that I chant my love of his cock when I come. It’s the biggest ego stroke in the world for him. I’ve realized he’s like that with everything. The more praise he gets, the better he feels about himself.
That’s not to say he’s egotistical. He thrives on reinforcement. And I’m not above giving it to him to make things easier for everyone. My man can be a delicate flower. It’s a sexy contradiction to the badass hockey player I get to watch on the ice.
Except not for the rest of this season, hence the need to fill the void. And what better way to fill it than with a wedding?
I have lots of thoughts on weddings. Mainly, I feel like they’re an archaic, patriarchal method of staking a claim on a beaver. Which might have been necessary in the dark ages, but isn’t so much now.
Beyond that, I’m kind of excited to dress up like a princess for an afternoon, as long as I can wear flip flops under the dress, because heels suck.
“So you’re sure about this summer?”
“Positive.”
“I can check out venues this week,” he offers.
“That’d be awesome.” Score one for Violet. Just like I planned, I won’t have to do all the legwork, and Alex will have something to occupy his time while he’s recovering.
However, I’m not a wedding savant. I have absolutely no idea how much time and effort goes into planning one, or how challenging it’s going to be to rein in Daisy and my mom once we tell them it’s happening.
I also have no idea how gung ho Alex is going to be about the wedding. And I should. Because I know how he is about everything else in his life.
He’s two-hundred percent about being the best hockey player.
He’s two-thousand percent about being the best orgasm distributor.
