Page 44 of Remember Me

“That's a full-time job in itself,” I teased, trying to lighten the moment.

Maybe one day would come sooner than I'd planned. But for now, this—his hand in mine, surrounded by friends who had become family, watching history unfold on the field below—was more than enough.

It was everything.

“Speaking of which,” he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously, “I was thinking—”

“No,” I cut him off, already knowing where this was headed. “We are not sneaking off again. Reign's kids are traumatized enough.”

He sighed dramatically. “I was just going to suggest we grab some food from the buffet, but now I'm intrigued by whatever salacious act you were imagining.”

“Liar,” I laughed. “You were absolutely angling for round three.”

“Round four, technically,” he corrected, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If we count the blanket on the plane.”

Before I could respond, the door to the suite burst open, and Thea rushed in, flushed with excitement, Jackson close behind her.

“Guys! You won't believe—” she began, then stopped short, taking in the scene before her. “Why are there so many children in here?”

“Because some of us have procreated,” Reign called from across the room.

“Right, but...” Thea gestured toward the open door, where I could now see several unfamiliar faces hovering uncertainly. “Wait, did we all move to the same box?”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “I invited them in at half-time. Figured it’s a big moment and we should all be together. It’s tight, but we make it work.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Jackson,” several of us groaned in unison.

Thea and her boyfriend moved on to speak to her family, leaving Aiden and I alone. Well, as alone as you can get with a suite stuffed full of people.

“Come here,” Aiden said, his voice low and edged with that particular heat that always made my skin prickle with anticipation.

His fingers wrapped around my wrist sending my pulse racing as he tugged me out of the suite before I could process what was happening.

The hall between the luxury boxes was mostly empty since we were heading into the final few minutes of the game. The Crossbills might’ve had a huge lead, but anything could happen in football.

“Where are we going?” I asked, my eyes darting to check for witnesses. There was no one. Just me, Aiden, and the sound of our footsteps as he dragged me across the concrete floor.

“The box next door.” His voice had dropped and was barely audible over the symphony of sounds bleeding through from the stadium, but I could already feel it.

The barely contained desire between us. It wasn’t our fault. We’d had a taste of each other and couldn’t get enough. Even now.

“Wait, what?” My brows pulled together as I struggled to focus on the logistics of everything because all I could think about was how his thumb was tracing circles inside of my wrist.

“The box. Tanner’s box is free.” He snorted. “That’s a phrase I never thought I’d say.”

The muscles in his forearm flexed as he held me close and led me down the hallway.

“But what if they come back?” I challenged, though we both knew how this was going to end. We were risk takers, and anything at the Super Bowl heightened that risk ten-fold.

“They won’t,” he said with that infuriating certainty that should have annoyed me but instead sent a fresh wave of pleasure through my core. He opened the door with way too much confidence for someone who did not belong there, then clicked the lock behind us with a sound that felt impossibly loud in the sudden hush. “And now they can’t.”

The room was identical to ours—clean lines, leather seats, cool-toned granite counters, floor-to-ceiling glass offering a panoramic view of the stadium. But in here, it was quiet. Empty. Stolen. The contrast between the roaring madness outside and the pristine stillness within created a bubble that felt both forbidden and inevitable.

Aiden turned to me slowly, his molten eyes raking me in. I took a deep breath because even though he wasn’t touching me; I felt him at every point his gaze landed on.

“Fuck, Alyssa. I need to touch you,” he said, his voice low and rough, each word laced with a hunger that made my breath catch. “This jersey.” His eyes lingered on where the fabric clung to my breasts. “These thighs.” His gaze dropped lower, making me acutely aware of how my jean skirt hugged every curve. “The way you were chewing your lip during that last down. You’re killing me.”

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