Scoring Wilder(107)

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting him lead me forward and trying to calm my racing heart. When I blinked them open again, I glanced down toward the path of tea candles leading us toward the center of the roof—to the center of that little paradise.

That’s where we paused, where Liam’s dark eyes locked with mine. That’s where I watched him slide down to one knee and that’s where my hands flew to my face as I tried to stop the tears that were threatening to overflow.

It didn’t feel real. None of it could be real because then I’d have every single thing I could have dreamed for.

“Kinsley Bryant…” he began as the tears streamed down my cheeks. “At twenty-six, I never imagined finding someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Three months before I met you, I was looking for the next thrill, the next party, the next girl. And then I walked in and found you perched in my kitchen like the most beautifully confident creature I’d ever seen, and I knew you’d be a wildfire. You challenged me from the very beginning and I tried to resist you, but I knew even then that I wasn’t going to walk away without you by my side.”

He paused and I watched him slowly swallow down his emotions. Liam Wilder, tough as nails soccer player, was actually the biggest softie I knew.

“This past year I’ve watched you strive for your dreams, and I’ve loved standing alongside you every step of the way—”

His shaking hand reached down to pull out a small black box from the pocket of his suit.

“Liam…”

His eyes sought mine and I drowned in the absolute vulnerability of the moment.

“Marry me,” he said, cracking the box open gently.

A soft, happy sob broke through my throat.

“I’m too young,” I protested weakly.

He smirked and calmly shook his head once back and forth.

“Marry me,” he said again so confidently that I knew he was putting my heart under his spell.

“Liam…” I began, my mind racing to keep up.

He shushed me with another shake of his head. “I lied to you that first night I met your mom.”

I scrunched my brows trying to recall the conversation he was drawing from.

“What? How?”

“That night I said I was joking about asking you to marry me in three hundred days. I knew then that I’d marry you. I could have asked you that very moment, but I wanted to give you time. I’ve waited three hundred days, but I won’t wait an hour more.”

“Yes.” I answered so softly that the words didn’t pass my fingertips covering my mouth.

“We’ll take as long as you want. We can be engaged until you turn ninety-nine and you can’t even walk down the aisle. I’ll carry you or wheel you down. Just tell me you’ll marry me.”

Another happy sob broke through my barrier, and I fell forward onto my knees in front of him.

“Liam, I said yes. Yes. YES!” I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck. He laughed against my throat as his arms pulled me close.

I hadn’t even glanced at the ring. Does that make me crazy? I would have taken twine tied in a knot if it meant I got to marry this man.

He wouldn’t hear of it though.

“I want to see it on you. It took forever to find one that I knew you’d like,” he said, retracting his arms and reaching to push the ring onto my finger. I could hardly keep my hand steady as he slipped the band past my nail and up over my knuckle.

It was a simple, rounded square diamond on a skinny band. It looked like the perfect combination between delicate and ornate.

“You did good, Wilder,” I teased with a wink, finally able to speak without tears convoluting my speech.

“Thanks, Mrs. Kinsley Wilder,” he said with a wicked grin, testing my future name out for the first time.

I narrowed my eyes playfully. “Hmm… how about Liam Bryant instead?”

“Hey,” he laughed, wrapping me up in his arms again.

“No. No, wait. Mr. Kinsley Bryant. Yeah, I like the ring of that.”

“You’re dreaming.”

“C’mon, this is the twenty-first century,” I joked.

“Mhm,” he said, nuzzling my neck so that his cologne and body wash temporarily invaded the intelligent part of my brain. “Let’s just pick new names all together.”

I smiled. “I’m not listening anymore. I’m too busy trying to contemplate the fact that you actually want to marry me.”

“Believe it.”

“Say it, just one more time, so it feels real.”

“Kinsley Grace Bryant, you crazy beautiful loon, marry me so we can make hundreds of little soccer prodigies.”

I laughed. “Done.”





Epilogue to the Epilogue (Because I can) Liam and I went on to win silver and bronze at the Olympic Games. We were also awarded “Cutest Couple”. The title was self-appointed. When I returned back to LA, I had a few offers from various professional teams around the country, including a club team in LA.

Becca lost her virginity to Penn in the Olympic Village. Yeah, those rumors about the village are true. Liam and I had to turn down an orgy invitation from a group of Russian gymnasts. This was mostly a geopolitical decision on my part.

Emily and her boyfriend suffered from an embarrassing Skype-sex debacle. Let’s just say you might want to keep your shirt on until you confirm that you’re video-calling your boyfriend and not his parents. “SON OF A PREACHER MAN”