Page 128 of All This Time
“You have no idea how much I want to cry right now.”
Her giggle makes my heart beat even faster. “It’s just spaghetti, Fletcher.”
“That spaghetti was one of the only things I looked forward to for years, Laney. Being invited to have dinner with your family gave me an escape from the hell of living with my dad. It gave me stability, calm, and hope—that is until I ended up in your room that first night, and then it was your smile, your eyes, and your heart that kept me going.”
“Fletcher…” Her eyes are shining from unshed tears, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she pulls my mouth to her this time. When we part, she hops down from the counter, but I press one more kiss to her lips before I let her go completely. “Do you want to help me?”
“I don’t want to fuck it up,” I say, referring to more than just spaghetti.
“You won’t,” she assures me. “Besides, you should learn the recipe. My mom would want you to have it.”
I can only hope that Mrs. Hart would have approved of me for her daughter.
***
“I watched the draft,” Laney admits from her spot next to me in the hot tub. We ate dinner, cleaned up the mess, finalized the place cards and seating chart for the wedding, and now we’re enjoying drinks—wine for her, water for me—in the hot tub on the back patio.
“You did?”
“I did. And your first game. I cried when you made your first catch.”
“Jesus, Laney. There’s no crying in football.”
She laughs, pushing back my hair with her hand. “I was so proud of you, even though I hated you.”
“I think we’ve established that you hated me, babe.”
“I hate that I hated you for so long.”
“Let it go, Laney. Please,” I say, pulling her lips to mine. “I have—because being like this with you is so much better.”
“I actually have your jersey too,” she adds.
I lean back, narrowing my eyes at her. “You do not…”
“No one knows, not even Dilynne. It needs to stay that way too, got it?” she threatens, twisting my nipple in between her fingers.
I yelp. “Jesus! Why can’t anyone know?”
“Can you imagine if Glenn found out? Dear God, I’d never live it down.”
“Oh, Glenn. He seems harmless.”
“He really is, but he’s also the one who’s contributed to the Lucifer jar more than any other person in the salon.”
“Speaking of which, can I stop being Lucifer now?”
She purses her lips playfully. “I don’t know…”
“When did that start, by the way?”
Sighing, she moves her hands through the water in front of her, avoiding my gaze. “After your first season with the Thunder. People around town were talking about you like crazy. Everywhere I went, I heard your name. You weren’t even here, and I couldn’t escape you. So, I made it a rule that no one was allowed to say your name in my salon, that way I had one place where I could block you from my mind.”
“Did it work?”
“No,” she admits. “You were always there.”
“You’ve always been on mine too, angel. Especially when I came back to town and you wouldn’t come around.”
