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Bending down, I press my lips to his collarbone, where an especially gruesome scar distorts the shape of the sharp bone underneath. His arms wind around my back and he squeezes me closer.
We sit there like that for a while before finally climbing out of the car. The fresh air feels like heaven to my lungs after sitting in that stifling space for so long, but once we get out, I remember my stupid fucking car won’t start.
“I guess I should be thanking this stupid thing,” I say, pointing to the hood. “But I still hate it. How much is this repair going to cost me?”
“Oh yeah,” Pax replies, rubbing the back of his neck. Then he drops down to the ground, crawling under my car. I see a small flashlight beam as he tinkers around with something.
“What are you doing?” I call.
“Reconnecting your starter.”
It only takes him a moment. I watch in confusion as he scoots out, jumping up to wipe the dirt off his pants. “Go ahead, try it.”
Getting in the driver’s seat, I put the key in the ignition and turn. Just like that, the car starts right up. “Well, that was an easy fix. How the hell did my starter get disconnected?”
Leaning over me with his arm braced against the top of my car, he grimaces. “I disconnected it.”
My face falls. “You what?”
“Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just not good at this dating stuff and I didn’t know how else to get you to talk to me.”
“You pick up the phone, Pax.” I’m literally in shock, but with the way he’s towering over me with those intense eyes and full lips and that mischievous smile, I couldn’t even try to be mad. “I expect a real apology when we get to my place. Get in your car. Let’s go.”
Before jogging over to his own car to follow me back to my house, he leans down and plants a strong kiss against my lips. “Yes, Mr. Litchfield.”
I swear this guy is going to break my heart, and I’m going to love every second.
The End
EPILOGUE
PAX
Four years later
“Get em’ Pax!” I hear my man’s voice from the chorus of cheers in the crowd as I rush down the pitch, slamming into the players on the other team. When the Forward tumbles, losing control of the ball, Thomas howls with the delight. “That’s my man!”
I laugh as the play continues, sneaking a glimpse of him in the bleachers, fully decked out in his team shirt, looking hot as fuck in those dark blue jeans.
This isn’t by any means an important game or even the big leagues of rugby. It’s a local team that meets up in city parks on weekends. The crowd is made up of the players’ families, kids, spouses and all. And a few female spectators who show up specifically for my best friend. Realspectators.
Mason winks at the girls as we jog together toward the sidelines.
I roll my eyes with a chuckle as I punch him in the shoulder. “Your fan club is more embarrassing than mine.”
“Who’s embarrassed?” he replies. “Looks like we’re both getting laid this afternoon.”
When I glance over at the two girls making flirty eyes at Mason, I try my best not to grimace. “Both of them?”
He shrugs. “Maybe.”
Cullen darts between us, smacking us both hard on the back of the heads. “Get your heads in the game.”
I throw my hands up in response. And here I thought I just played defense and stopped the other team from scoring.
By the end of the game, I’m a sweaty stinky mess. But it doesn’t stop my boyfriend from pulling me in for a kiss in the bleachers.
“Good game,” he mutters after pulling his mouth from mine.
