Page 116 of Put a Rink on It

“I thought you’d be relieved. That’s what you said.”

“I thought I was. Truly. But the ideas wouldn’t stop coming. Of you growing my baby. Of what she or he would look like. Of the sleepless nights, the crying, the meltdowns. I was jealous I’d get none of them.”

“The crying and meltdowns?” I challenge his logic.

One shoulder rises in a shrug. “Comes with the territory, but yeah. I’m not looking forward to those parts so much as the joy, the smiles, teaching my son to play hockey, letting my daughter paint my nails. The vision was so clear, so in focus, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“So you picked a fight on the ice.”

“I picked a fight on the ice.”

“And did it explain things, bring them into perspective?”

“Not right away. Until I told Schurbatski the truth, all of it…” He trails off, leaving the rest implied.

“I told my mom, sister, and Tate, too. It leaked out, and I couldn’t take it back.”

“That’s kind of how it was for me. He was asking all these questions, telling me I loved you in college⁠—”

I cut him off. “Schurbatski?” I can’t even address the whole “loved you” part.

“Yes.”

“Finch Schurbatski. Your goalie. Did he grunt his way through it?”

“When I asked how he got so perceptive, he commented about how a goalie sees everything. He’s always watching people, anticipating their moves, even the smallest details, he sees. How it translates to other parts of life, I don’t know. But he was right. In everything he said.”

“You loved me?”

“I love you, Marina Keeley. Past, present, future. All the tenses of the verb. I want you to be my wife. For real, not for show. You can still be in charge of the wedding and make it as special as you want, fancy or not, whatever your dream is. But know this.”

“What’s that?” rushes from my mouth.

“It’s the only wedding day you’re getting, so you better make it perfect. There won’t be any do-overs or replacing the groom. You’re stuck with me.”

“I want to be stuck with you. For life. For it all. You’re the guy I want as my soulmate, Nero Champion. Maybe it’s why I said yes to your crazy ploy. I wanted to be your wife, to be Mrs. Nero Champion. I want to be your wife,” I correct. “I love you. So much. I think I always have.”

His eyes close at my declaration, and he presses his forehead to mine. “Same. It’s always been you. I had to put a ring on it to realize it.”

I can’t hold back a chuckle. Also, swoon.

Since day one, this guy’s made me fall for him in all the little ways—wanting to know everything about me, gifting me a sweatshirt, watching my favorite show, which became his favorite, and soon, our favorite. It’s in the way he holds my hand, sends “I miss you” messages, encourages my habits.

No wonder no other guy could compare to my “friend” Nero Champion. He’s always been more.

Something niggles in my mind, and I move so I can gaze into his hazel orbs, ones I want reflecting at me for eternity. “I want to try the olive cookies.”

His eyes blink. “Fair warning that even a professional said they’re going to be gross.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

He cups his hands around my chin, a touch I’ve missed too much, there aren’t enough words to explain it. “I love you, Marina Alyse Keeley, and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life showing you how much.”

Without a pause, he crashes his lips to mine, and I press mine against his, leaning into him, allowing a fire to course through me. He’s the last guy I’ll ever kiss, and I won’t have it any other way.

Spoiler alert: the cookies might be my new fave!

CHAPTER 36