Page 95 of Pucking My Grumpy Roommate
"Is that your main concern? Academic perception?"
"Partly," she nodded, hands gesturing wildly. "There's this unspoken rule in science that popularity and serious research are mutually exclusive. Like you can either be respected or accessible, but never both."
"Sounds like hockey," I observed. "You're either a team player or a superstar. Can't be both according to media."
Kate stopped pacing, surprise softening her features. "That's... a really good analogy."
"I do occasionally have insights outside of defensive strategy." I patted the couch, beckoning her back. "So what's the other part of your concern?"
She sank down beside me, tucking herself against my side as if finding her natural habitat. "What if this changes us? What if turning our relationship into a commercial product somehow... ruins the real thing?"
The vulnerability in her voice hit me harder than any Chicago defenseman could. I tilted her chin up, making her meet my eyes.
"Kate, do you really think anything could change how I feel about you? How we are together?"
"No," she admitted softly. "But I've never been in this position before. Having my personal life and professional life so completely intertwined with someone else's."
"Me neither. But think about it—isn't that what we've already been doing? Your science helped my recovery. My injury inspired your research. We've been crossing these lines since day one."
She considered this, her scientist's mind visibly working through the variables. "That's true. And having legitimate funding would accelerate my superbugs research."
"Exactly." I brushed her chaotic hair back from her face. "Plus, imagine all the science nerds who'll see a woman like you partnered with a sports brand and think, 'Holy shit, maybe I can do that too.'"
Kate's eyes widened. "You're using representation arguments against me? That's fighting dirty, Callahan."
"I learned from the best. You used the exact same argument when convincing me to post that photo."
"Touché." She laughed, tension draining from her shoulders. "God, when did our lives get so ridiculously complicated and amazing?"
"January. When you spilled coffee on my floor five minutes after meeting me."
She leaned up to kiss me, soft and sweet. "Best coffee I ever spilled."
I deepened the kiss, my hands sliding under her shirt to find warm skin. The day's adrenaline redirected itself, arousal replacing game-time intensity. Kate responded immediately, climbing into my lap with a hunger that matched my own.
"Wait," she gasped as my lips found that sensitive spot behind her ear. "We need to talk about us. About the future. If we're doing this campaign together, we should discuss?—"
"I can't imagine my life without you," I said against her skin. "Without your chaos balancing my order. Your brilliance challenging my discipline. Your goddamn bacterial cultures with names taking over my refrigerator."
She pulled back, eyes suddenly bright with unshed tears. "Austin..."
"I'm not good with words like you are. But I know when something works, when the chemistry is right." I held hergaze, baring myself completely. "And we work, Kate. Better than anything I've ever known."
A smile bloomed across her face, radiant and full of joy. She launched herself at me so enthusiastically that we nearly toppled backward off the couch. I caught her, laughing as I steadied us.
"That wasn't a proposal," I clarified, unable to stop grinning. "Just so we're clear. When I propose, there will be a ring and much better timing."
"When, not if?" Kate raised an eyebrow, delight dancing in her eyes.
"Definitely when." I pulled her back to me, capturing her mouth in a kiss that said everything words couldn't.
EPILOGUE
KATE
SIX MONTHS LATER…
Istood in the doorway of our house—yes, officially our house now—and marveled at the beautiful chaos-meets-order vibe we'd created. We moved back into Austin’s sleek, ridiculously fancy place after he finished his recovery.
