Page 155 of You're The One
I wave goodbye before the screen goes dark and refocus on the dough, stretching and folding it over itself. It sticks to my fingers as I tuck it back into the bowl to proof.
“Summer hasn’t changed a bit.” Dom’s grin presses into my cheek as he rests his chin on my shoulder. “You’re spoiling me with the baked goods. My trainers won’t be happy.”
“They’ll forgive you for having a six-pack instead of an eight,” I deadpan.
“Brat.” He chuckles, tipping his head toward the dough. “Maybe this is your thing?”
“Yeah, maybe.” I’ve always loved baking, but I’m not in a rush to have it all figured out. For now, I’m embracing thejourney. Or, as my boyfriend—yep, still getting used to that—once put it, it’s not about finding the perfect couch, but the memories on it.
Unlike before, I know it’s all in my control. I don’t have the answers yet, but with every choice I make, I’m creating the life I want.
One thing I do know? Who I want in it.Domsits at the top of that list.
Old me would be horrified.
“I’m not sure what it is yet, but I do want to have my own thing. Like you have hockey,” I add.
“And you will. With less travel, you’ll have time to figure it out. Unless you’re still planning to—” He cuts himself off, his grip flexing on my waist. “I don’t ever want to hold you back. If you still feel pulled to travel, we’ll figure it out.”
“I don’t think I do.” And it’s the truth. I might still get the urge to run when things get hard, but the desire to build something new is stronger.
His breath escapes, tickling the side of my face.
“Plus, I think I’d miss you too much.” I turn and press a kiss to his jaw, a smile tugging at my lips when they meet his warm, stubbled skin.
“I like seeing you like this,” he murmurs.
“Baking?”
“No.” He turns me so I’m facing him, my back against the counter. “Happy.”
“You know, that’s why I hated you at first. You reminded me of everything I thought I could never be.”
“And now?”
“I mean, I still don’t think I’ll get to your level… but your level brings up mine. So, I can’t complain.”
His fingers skim my sides. “I think we can do better than not complaining.”
“Okay, content,” I tease.
He kisses my forehead. “Better?”
“Fine. I guess I’m pretty happy.”
A sharp pang cuts through the warmth, a reminder I won’t always feel this good. Dom must see it, because he lifts me onto the counter, away from the flour, and kisses me. It’s a promise without words. That he’ll be here even then. And I believe him.
When he breaks away, it’s only far enough for his breath to fan my lips. “Fuck. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
His hands slip behind my knees, tugging me closer. “That’s good, because I’ve got some not-so-great news.”
I arch a brow. “Uh-oh.”
“My teammates, and probably a couple of Hannah’s friends, are coming over for a watch party.” He glances at his watch, wincing. “Soon.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Of course they are.”
