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"I love you."
"You said it again!"
"I'm going to keep saying it," he says, wrapping his hands around my waist. "Every damn day until you're ready to say it back."
"What if I'm ready now?"
"You're freaking out."
"Only because I wasn't prepared," I huff. "We're naked and you were talking about my dad. I'm allowed to freak out."
"I said I love you before I mentioned your dad," he points out.
"Weston?"
"Yes?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
He pulls me into him, laughing against my lips. His laughter dies as soon as my tongue touches his. He kisses me deep, claiming my mouth like he owns it again. I get lost in him.
"I love you too," I whisper when he finally pulls back to take a breath.
He sucks in a deep breath and holds it, his entire body going taut.
"I love you," I say again, just because I like the way he's looking at me like I just gave him the whole world.
"Jesus," he whispers.
I scream as he stands up suddenly with me in his arms, water sloughing off us in a flood. He holds me carefully, stepping out onto the bathmat and then marching toward the bedroom.
"Where are we going?" I cry through laughter.
"To make sure you're pregnant," he growls.
"You're pouting," I say.
"I am not," Weston growls, scowling at the island in his kitchen.
"You are."
"Last time we played the Hurricanes, I punched Jackson Hurst in the face," he reminds me. "I may do it again on principal."
"Weston," I say, laughing. "You can't just punch him in the face because you don't like him."
"Says who?"
"Um, everyone? Including Jesus?"
He narrows his eyes at me. "Jesus would have punched him too."
"Jesus definitely would not have punched him."
"How do you know? He might have."
I shake my head, smiling. He's grumpy in the mornings. It's honestly kind of adorable how much he doesn't want to go to Miami. I don't want him to go either. But there's no way I would ever try to get him to stay. Are you kidding me? The Predators have a shot at the Stanley Cup this year. I may be crazy in love, but I'm still a Predators fan. And no fan worth her salt gets between her team and the Cup.
"I should get you home," he says, sighing like he hates the thought.
