I Promise You: Stand-Alone College Sports Romance(86)

My lashes blink rapidly, holding back the tears welling up inside me. I want him, I need him, I love him.

More than my young, misguided devotion for Vane.

More than anything.

A long exhalation leaves my chest and clarity settles deeper inside me. Yes, I needed our time apart, but the moment I sent him his gift, I knew I could never let him go. The truth is, people are never free of baggage, but sometimes you have to take a chance and jump in feet first. I want this with him. I want him tracing hearts on my back, loving me. And I see who he is. Kind, intelligent, funny, loyal, and…mine.

“Oh my God! Are you asking her to marry you?” screeches the cashier girl.

I huff out a laugh as I wipe a tear from my eye. “You better get up. She’s getting her phone out.”

He rises, eyes never leaving mine as he stands. His forehead touches mine. “The night of the bonfire my heart picked you, and I’d do it again, a million times. Is there any way you could need me the way I need you?”

I brush my fingers over his face, my hand curling around his neck. There’s a small bump under his shirt, and I tug out the ribbon and see the charm around his neck. My eyes meet his and my chest hitches. Emotions tug at me, hope for a future with this warrior. “I love you so much,” I whisper.

Amazement washes over his face. His mouth parts. “Serena…Dandelion…” He kisses me, his lips slanting over mine, our mouths devouring each other. He tastes like home. He feels solid and real, the kind of love that grows in your heart and digs deep roots. When I was seventeen, my dandelion meant second chances in the face of adversity, and this with Dillon? He’s worth all the chances.

He hitches me up until my legs are around his waist. Without breaking our connection, he walks us down the aisle and through the store.

I laugh into his chest. “Aren’t we going to buy anything?”

“I’ve got what I came for,” he murmurs, elation in his voice. “You.”

I dip my head to his chest and inhale his scent. “Happy Birthday,” I say. “You’re only two years younger than me now.”

He clutches me tight as we step outside. “I want everything with you. I’m going to love you so good it’s going to freak you out, a lot. I’ve waited a long time for you, and I might go overboard…” A smile curls his lips as I laugh.

He stops at his Escalade and puts my back against his door. I kiss him slowly, relearning the way he feels. A car drives by and someone whistles. We laugh and pull apart.

His hand cups my cheek. “You need a ride, mystery girl?” he asks, taking me back to the night at the Pig.

“Sure, Damon.”

“You’re slipping. You’ve already used that one.”

“Dillon McQueen, I know you,” I say softly. “You have my heart.”

“I will never break it, Dandelion.”

“I know.” I see the truth in his eyes, the solemn expression on his face.

He goes in for a quick kiss. “We’re going back to your place, and I’m going to show you some new moves.”

“Promise?”

“Toujours. Always. Tell me you love me again.”

I gaze into his stormy eyes. “I love you, football player.”





Epilogue





A few years later…





I leave my agent’s office and pull out of the parking lot in downtown Denver and hit the highway, pointing Serena’s white Range Rover to our place in the Rocky Mountains outside Breckinridge, Colorado. We have a spacious penthouse in the city, but during the off-season we like the peace that comes with crisp air and majestic mountain views. The historic town is perfect, quaint restaurants, locally owned galleries, yoga and dance studios, small bars where musicians play, and snow skiing in the winter.

After I clear the traffic of the city, I pull over at the grocery store. I put on my aviators and grab an old cowboy hat. I want to get in and get out without being recognized.

After the Waylon Tigers won the Sugar Bowl, I was drafted to the Broncos that following April. We weren’t national champs again, but I played some of my best football that year. Sinclair did too.

Once in Denver, I was named the backup, but after the starter suffered a shoulder injury and retired, I stepped up and filled those shoes. This past year we won the AFC West conference and maybe next year, the Super Bowl. I’m at the top of my game and honing my skills as a leader.

Inside the store, I keep my head dipped and move through the aisles, grabbing steaks for dinner, beer, arthritis cream for Nana, cookies for Serena.

A text comes in from Romy. Thanks for letting me hang out at this kickass house, bro. BTW, I need tampons and Aleve. A real man wouldn’t have any qualms about purchasing them. She adds several laughing/crying emojis. FYI, ditch the steaks. Serena made other plans.

Is she cooking? I mentioned the steaks before I drove into the city, but maybe she’s changed her mind, which is weird. She doesn’t like to cook. Usually I make our meals at the cabin, mostly on the grill.

Romy doesn’t reply.

Serena and I were engaged in May after we graduated, then married a year later after my first season in Denver. Contrary to my dream, I didn’t ask her at a football game. I wanted it to be private. I asked her in the meadow as we lay on a blanket with the stars above us. My hands shook as I opened the black box and presented the three-carat diamond to her. My dad helped me pick it out when we were in New York for the draft.