Page 99 of Winning Match
He chuckles, the sound happy. Hopeful. Then, he leans forward, I reach for him, and our lips crash together.
Ale kisses me deeply. I drop the scarf in my lap to frame his cheeks with my hands as he wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me onto his lap. I shift to straddle him, slanting my mouth to deepen our kiss.
He tastes like home. Like love and apology, regret and commitment, the past and the future.
Deep down, I knew he was it for me. And him showing up here, when I need him most, proves that he wants what I want.
Everything.
“I fucking love you,” he murmurs against my mouth, his hand fisting in my hair.
I feel him harden between my thighs and I grind against him. “I love you,” I gasp, the desperate need I feel for him gathering low in my abdomen, unspooling through my limbs.
Alejandro grasps the back of my thigh, and I move to push him backward on my bed when my bedroom door swings open, and we break apart.
Red heat floods my cheeks as the Sewing Circle shadows my doorframe.
But their stern faces break into wide smiles as they take in Ale’s and my position.
“A happily-ever-after,” Gladys breathes out, clasping her hands together.
Judith holds out a hand and Dorothy slaps a twenty-dollar bill into it.
“We’ll let you, um, finish what you started,” Dorothy says, moving to close the door.
It shuts with a slam and Judith’s laughter bursts from the other side of it.
Ale snorts, closing his eyes as I rest my forehead against his. “You make me lose my mind.” He opens his eyes and grins.
I laugh, moving off his lap to give us both a moment to collect ourselves. “It’s not the right time.” I gesture between us.
“Yeah, I got that.” Ale smirks, gripping the back of his neck.
“But tonight…” I bite my bottom lip.
“Tonight, you’re all mine.” His eyes flare with heat.
“And you’re mine.”
Thirty minutes later, after the Sewing Circle stopped razzing us, I lead Ale into my dad’s bedroom so he can meet him. Even if Dad doesn’t remember this moment, I will, and it’s important to me that Ale know my father.
“Daddy,” I say softly.
He looks at me and for a second, he sees me.
Hope rises in my chest, and I smile. “I want you to meet someone.” I tug Ale forward.
Ale’s eyes don’t wander anywhere from my father’s face as he strides closer and offers his hand. “It’s my pleasure to meet you, Mr. Prescott.”
Dad smiles, his eyes hazy with confusion as he shakes Alejandro’s hand.
“I’m in love with your daughter,” Ale states.
And Dad…Dad smiles big and broad. “Yes, well…” His eyes flicker to mine. “What’s not to love about Marlowe?”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from crying as Dad gestures to the seat next to his bed and Ale sits.
And for the first time in a long time, the conversation isn’t fixated on sailboats. Instead, Dad and Ale talk about me.
