Page 71 of Puck Sweat Love

She’s wearing one of my old Badgers T-shirts knotted at her waist with ripped up jeans that make it impossible to think straight.

God, she’s just…fine as hell.

And mine. So far, that’s not even close to growing old or becoming something I take for granted.

She lifts an arm, waving our way, her smile widening as I jog across the pavement toward her. Stone makes a gagging sound behind me before shouting, “Call me later this week. Let’s set up a date to go mountain biking before it gets too hot. Have a good night, Steph.”

She wiggles her fingers and calls, “Thanks, you too, Stone,” before fixing her full attention on me. “Well, hello there, you. Happy summer vacation.”

“Happy summer vacation,” I murmur, dropping my duffel to pull her into my arms. I kiss her, smiling against her mouth as I add, “Fuck, I’m looking forward to three months of sleeping in with you.”

She laughs, her breath puffing softly against my lips. “Some of us still have classes to teach four morning a week, mister.”

I hum low in my throat. “Shit, that’s right.” I pull back, smiling down at her as I add, “Guess I’ll just have to get used to yoga in the morning instead of the afternoon and come with you.”

“Or you could sleep in with Mr. Sniffles.”

I grunt. “With his stank ass? I’ll pass.”

“Oh, he’s been much better lately and you know it,” she says, as I reach for the back door, tossing my gear onto the seats. “The childproof lock on the compost was an inspired idea.”

“Speaking of inspired ideas,” I say, circling around to the passenger’s side. “Want to put off unpacking for another day andtake a drive to the beach, watch the sunset on the sand? Maybe grab dinner at Sugar’s Seaside?”

We love our new apartment, a two bedroom closer to both the arena and her studio, with lots of room for Mr. Sniffles to explore when he’s home alone. But so far, we’ve been too busy to get to the “low-priority” boxes stacked against the wall in the living room.

Her eyes light up. “You know I love an excuse not to unpack.”

I bob my brows. “I know you do.” I nod toward the parking lot exit, “Drop me off in front of our building? I can be up to the apartment and down with Mr. Sniffles, poop bags, puppy snacks, and his bed for the backseat in ten minutes.”

“Grab a bag of wipes in case he drools on the floor at Sugar’s when he smells all that yummy fried food, and you’ve got a deal, baby,” she says with a wink.

Fifteen minutes later,we’re on the highway headed toward the coast, Mr. Sniffles hanging his head out the window in back, Steph’s hand in mind, and nothing but clear skies ahead.

I can honestly say, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

I’m pretty sure I couldn’t be any happier, in fact, but then Steph says—”Oh, I forgot to tell you! I signed us up for that breakdancing class at The Dance Warehouse. They had two spots left. We start next Friday night!”—and I realize all over again that I should never underestimate how good things can get with this woman.

With my best friend, my ride or die, my Steph, the dream I’m never giving up on.

Not today or any other day, not until death do us part.

CHAPTER 19

STEPHANIE

Three months later…

Holy monkey mind…

It’s August again, one year since Tank first wandered into my studio with his scowl, his grunts, and his wounded heart, and changed my life forever. Like last year, I’m teaching at Badgers training camp. But everything else?

Everything else is completely different, including the fact that my brain feels like it’s full of a dozen rabid squirrels, all tugging my thoughts in different directions. I can’t remember the last time I had this much trouble calming my mind during a class.

But then, I’ve never had something likethishanging over my head while teaching, either.

A wonderful, miraculous, kind of scary something…

A life-changing something…

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