Page 110 of Break Points and Face Offs

“I want to help,” I say against his shirt.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to,” I tell him. “I want to. I don’t want you to have to do this alone.”

He holds me, stroking my back. I think it might be comforting him just as much as it’s comforting me.

“Rosie?” he says after a while.

I don’t even try to hide how giddy it makes me.

“Hm?”

“Do you think I could get you to rethink the dibs policy?”

“What?” I break free from the embrace enough to look up at him.

“That first day we met, at the library.”

“I remember it.” I cringe, thinking about how much of a grade-A dick I was to him.

“You said you don’t operate under the dibs policy.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, could you rethink that position, maybe? So I can call dibs on something?”

I try to tamper the stupid grin threatening to split my face. The swoopy feeling anticipating what he’s going to say.

“I’ve heard about how possessive hockey players can be. Want me to wear your jersey and write your name on all my notebooks?”

“That’s rude, Rosie. You’re making assumptions again. I was just gonna ask you to let me borrow the next book you steal on the first day of class.”

“Oh.”

He ruffles my hair before pulling me in close. His sexy, masculine smell overtaking me.

“And I wanted to call dibs on you.”

25

WILL

Priestley’s been complaining that the gas station hoagie I made him eat gave him rabies since the second we hit the highway.

“Rabies? That’s dramatic, Rosie. And impossible.”

“Seriously, if I start foaming at the mouth⁠—”

“Shut it, silly.” I turn the stereo up on our victory playlist and hit the gas.

This is the first time we’ll be seeing my family as an official couple. My ma is so excited she sounded like she was gonna burst when I spoke to her on the phone.

I hope Priestley is prepared for the level of attention he’s gonna get from my relatives. I hope he knows it’s all gonna be good. That these people are welcoming him and are happy to see us together.

I take Priestley’s hand, thinking about what he’s been missing out on all these years.

“Love you,” I say, lifting his knuckles to my lips to kiss them.