Page 404 of Faking the Goal

My smile.

The soft one.

The one he's been giving me for years that still somehow makes my stomach flip like I'm twenty-one and falling in love with him all over again.

My steps become easier after that.

I don't hear the music anymore. I don't notice the guests turning toward me or the cameras or whether the flowers are arranged exactly the way I requested.

None of it matters.

There's only Kentaro waiting for me.

And with every step closer to him, I swear I can see another emotion breaking through that normally controlled face until he looks almost overwhelmed by it.

By me.

By this.

By the fact that after everything we've been through, we're finally here.

When I reach him, Kentaro doesn't wait for the officiant to say anything. His hand immediately reaches for mine, his fingers wrapping around it like he's been waiting all day just to touch me again.

Then he lifts my hand to his mouth and presses a slow kiss against my knuckles.

My heart turns into absolute mush.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, his voice already rough.

My lips tremble around a smile. "You're crying."

His eyes narrow slightly.

"I have something in my eye."

"At our wedding?"

"Very dusty hotel."

A laugh escapes me, watery and helpless, and his thumb strokes across my fingers.

There he is.

My grumpy idiot.

My best friend.

My safe place.

By the time we get to the vows, I've already cried twice.

Kentaro has cried once, although if anyone asks him, I'm sure the official story will remain that this hotel has a severe and highly localized dust problem.

The officiant smiles at him. "Kentaro, you may read your vows."

Kentaro exhales slowly before unfolding the paper in his hand. For the first time since I reached the altar, he looks nervous, and seeing this six-foot-two professional hockey player who regularly has pucks flying at his face at ninety miles an hour look terrified of a piece of paper almost makes me smile.

Then his eyes meet mine.