I don’t mind it though. It sure as hell gets annoying when one comes knocking on the door—or just barges in because all three of my husband’s friends have a spare key—while Aaron and I are busy doing other things, but it’s manageable.
Oh, yes. You heard me right.Husband.
Aaron and I just kind of eloped. Without telling a single soul. Not even my parents know.
It started off as a joke, a simple: “You know, I think we should elope”, when Aaron came home from early practice. Little did I know an hour later I’d find myself signing a marriage certificate. Some part of me wishes I would’ve gotten my big wedding venue plans with him, but then again, I did when I turned twenty-one.
“You think they’ll cry?” What I found out in three years of living with a jock and constantly having other’s around me, they’re dramatic as fuck.
Aaron snorts a laugh. “Probably.”
He holds his hand out for me and I take it only to be pulled right into his embrace. My favorite place on earth; his arms.
When it finally draws on me that Aaron and Ireallygot married. Like, this isreal. Not us stupidly talking about it and making up unrealistic plans for our wedding, a shiver runs down my spine. A shiver that’s so much more thanjusta shiver. It’s excitement. Happiness. Accomplishing a long-anticipated dream. Maybe a little anxiety for the future, too.
“You don’t think this was a little too early?” The words leave my mouth before I could stop myself, my fingers playing with themselves, picking on the skin around my nails as I wait for a response.
Aaron must have noticed because in seconds he has laid his hand over mine, interlocking our fingers. “Love, we’ve been together for three years andexactlytwo months,” he says like it explains everything. He chuckles at my lack of reaction. “I wanted to drag you down that aisle when we were eight, Sofia.”
“Yes, but that’s… you know. It’s not valid because we were children and that was just plain stupid.”
I can feel him shake his head. “Alright, let me say it in clearer words then; I donotthink we got married too early.”
My head bobs up and down, taking in his words. God, it was a stupid question to begin with, I now realize. He was the one to suggest it, of course he doesn’t think it was too early.
“Does your manager know you got married?” He should know, right? Because I’m pretty sure once the media finds out, there will be a wave of interview requests coming in for Aaron.
To be honest, I still don’t understand why some people care so much about someone else’s private life, but sure, why not, I guess? I don’t mind the media. It only bothers me when I can’t even walk down the streets with Aaron without having our photo taken every step we take. But I suppose that comes with his job.
It’s been three years since Aaron started playing for the pros, and to this day, people coming up to us and asking for his autograph or a picture with him still seems odd. I’m okay with it, obviously, it’s just strange anyway.
Knowing strangers all over the world have pictures of my husband on their phones, doesn’t sit right with me, but I am adjusting and learning to live with it. It just takes me a little while.
People know he’s in a relationship. Though, it doesn’t stop a good number of women from fliting with him or slide into his DMs with nudes, but Aaron ignores all of them.
There have been tons of interviews online in which he talks about how we met and stuff like that. It’s weird having almost my entire life with him out in the open world, but Aaron never told anything I wasn’t okay with people knowing. He always makes sure he gets my permission to share first.
“Not yet. I should probably give him a heads-up though, huh?” Aaron picks me up, my legs wrapping around his hips before he walks us right into the open kitchen and sits me down on the kitchen island, standing between my legs. “But I think for now, I’ll just keep you as my wife in private and not tell anyone.”
His lips press against my neck, leaving soft kisses on my skin, my head leaning back immediately.
“We’ll go on a private honeymoon, masking it as a normal vacation, once the season ends in a few weeks,” he says, then begins to kiss down my neck at the same time as his hands sneak underneath my shirt. “We’ll go wherever you want for a whole month. Just you and me.”
“Aaron…” I moan, sliding my hands down his back. Bringing them around to sneak underneath his shirt and catching a feeling of the muscles he’s always trying to hide.
“How does that sound, Mrs. Marsh?” His lips find mine, the tips of his finger tracing along my bra to find to the back.
Mrs. Marsh. God, I could get used to that. Not could,haveto. I did just marry the guy I’ve loved from the second our eyes met.
I don’t have to answer Aaron, he knows I love his idea. A month just with him? None of his friends walking in on us? Yes. Sounds like heaven.
As soon as he hooks his fingers into my bra to unclasp it, a groan leaves me because I can hear the sound of a key jiggling in our lock. Aaron must hear it too because he removes his hands from my body, plants an apologetic kiss to my lips and stares at the door to see which one of his friends decided to interrupt us this time.
Only that it isn’t his friends and rather the daughter of one of them.
“Uncle Ron?” Brooke yells out as soon as the door is opened, as usual forgetting to close it behind her when she steps inside.
“What can I help you with?” Aaron asks, making his way over to her.
