Fighting Silence (30 page)

“Wait. When?”

“This weekend!” I yelled as I bounced around the dressing room like a kid on Christmas morning, throwing fist pumps in the most non-badass way possible.

“Shut up!” she screeched into my ear.

I knew Eliza, and I bet she was throwing a few fist pumps of her own.

“Till! That’s amazing! Congrats!”

“There is a really good chance my chest is going to explode before I make it home today.” I continued to pace around the room.

“Ew. No exploding. So, are you good freaking out or bad freaking out?”

“I honestly don’t know. I’m not nervous about the fight, so I guess maybe the good kind? Hell, I don’t know. I don’t get to good freak out enough to know the difference.” I laughed, but it wasn’t a joke.

“This sounds like a really good thing, Till. Don’t muddle it all up.”

I could hear the warmth in her voice, and it calmed me immediately.

“I love you,” I said quietly, even though it deserved more emphasis than I could ever give with words alone.

“I love you too. I’m really proud of you. ”

I breathed a content sigh. “I have no idea what I would do without you.”

She giggled. “You’d probably be emaciated from your all-ramen diet and stuck hanging out of the third-story window.”

“Why the third story?”

“’Cause if we ever break up, the boys decided they want to live with me. They told me they liked me better than you.” She giggled. “And I lived downstairs for enough of their one a.m. Royal Rumbles to know I’d want my bedroom on the third floor this time.”

I grinned as I sank down on the bench. “Wow. This sounds like a big house, moneybags.”

“Yeah. My boyfriend was a big-time heavyweight boxer. He bought it for me.”

“Jesus. I want to do that,” I whispered.

Suddenly, her laughter disappeared. “I don’t need that, Till. I was only joking around.”

“I know you don’t, but I’m going to give it to you anyway.”

“I just need you. It doesn’t matter where we are.”

It was a sweet sentiment that anyone could recognize, but to me, it was everything.

She
was everything.

I cleared my throat to cover the intense emotion and then changed the subject. “You’re right. This is a good freak out.”

“I’m always right.” She laughed, and it eased my entire world.

“So I’ve been told.”

“What time are you coming home?”

“Probably late. New fight needs a new plan.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” She paused. “I might even be naked when you get here.”

I let out a groan. “Mmm . . . I love the way you think. Now, talk dirty to me and tell me you’ll be holding a plate of twice-baked potatoes.”

She burst out laughing, and my lips split into a smile. I listened for a while, savoring the sound.

Finally, she got quiet again. “I love you, Till.”

“I love you too. I’ll see you tonight.” After a quick goodbye, she hung up, but I was left staring at my phone for several minutes.

I’d just gotten a fifty-thousand-dollar fight that would be televised for the entire world to see. Yet, somehow . . . it wasn’t even the best part of my day.

I sucked in a deep breath.

Yeah. I was definitely going to be late that night. It was time to tap into my savings account . . . and hit the hardware store.

Me: The boys are spending the night out.

I sent the message the moment I saw the headlights of Till’s truck pull into our parking lot. Then I sprinted to the bedroom and counted to ten.

Me: Twice-baked potatoes. Check.

I sent him a picture of a plate filled with them and then counted to twenty as I settled onto the bed.

Me: Naked. Check.

I snapped a quick selfie of my breasts, making sure that Till’s favorite freckle had made it into the picture. Laughing, I pressed send.

Then I screamed at the top of my lungs as I saw his face lit by the glow of his phone outside our window.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, still staring at the phone even as I freaked out on the other side of the glass.

“Shit! What are you doing?” I asked as I pried the window open.

“I’m saving that picture for my home screen.” He finally looked up at me.

“Why exactly are you doing it on a ladder?

“Oh, this? It’s nothing. Life was just feeling too real today. I wanted a little fantasy.” His gaze raked down my nude body. “And clearly, I’ve come to the right window.”

His eyes were playful, but it still concerned me that he was climbing through a second-story window.

“Till . . .” I started.

“So I have a theory.” He leaned on his elbows, popping his head through the opening. “That night when you pushed me out of your door, I had originally come in the window. So what if the life we have been living ever since then is like a fantasy within a fantasy?”

My stomach twisted.

“You have to admit. It’s been pretty amazing.” He smiled.

Something wasn’t right with him. I could feel it, and it scared me to death. I reached out to touch him, but he caught my hand in midair and pressed his lips to my palm.

“See, windows have never let me down before. And this might just be the biggest fantasy of them all. I needed every bit of help I could get tonight.” He placed a small, black box on the windowsill. “Marry me, Eliza.”

I sucked in a deep breath as tears flooded my eyes. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure whose fantasy we were in at all, because Till Page offering me forever had always been mine.

“Till . . .” I stared into his eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Completely. I love you, Doodle. Forever, remember?”

Fully naked, I launched myself at the window. Till was barely able to stay on the ladder as I assaulted his mouth. The ring, which I still hadn’t seen, fell to the floor—thankfully on the inside. My tongue rolled in his mouth as my hands threaded into his hair. With one arm secured around my waist, he deepened the kiss as he crawled all the way inside. My feet were lifted off the ground as he walked us to the bed. I dangled in his arms, but I had never in my life felt more grounded.

“Is that a yes?” he asked as he dropped me on the bed and tore the shirt over his head.

“I would have said yes at thirteen.” I dragged his mouth back down with the frenzied need to feel him again, but his mouth alone wasn’t enough. I remembered his words from all those years ago. “Take me. Claim me for forever, Till.”

With a growl, he stood off the bed and went to the window. Snagging the box off the floor, he said, “Not until you’re wearing my ring.”

Cracking the box open, he revealed a round diamond solitaire engagement ring. It was small and simple, nothing at all like the man who was proposing to me. It was, however, perfect.

He slid it onto my finger then let out a huge breath of relief.

“It’s gorgeous.” I rose to my knees, gliding my hands over his chiseled chest.

His eyes watched my ring finger slide over his skin. Mine watched his eyes heat.

“You’ve always been beautiful . . . but fuck, Eliza. You wearing my ring . . . marrying me . . . It’s unbelievable.” His eyes glistened with overwhelming emotion, but when I leaned forward to offer him a reassuring kiss, Till Page the man appeared.

His eyes grew dark. With one arm on the back of my neck, he swept my legs out from underneath me with the other. I landed on my back, and Till’s mouth went to work biting and nipping my neck. His hands made fast work of removing his pants, and within seconds, his was buried inside me.

“You’re gonna marry me,” he repeated as he drove inside me.

It wasn’t a question, but each time, I still answered, “Yes.”

After a while, his hand dived between us, forcing my orgasm before I could even try to fight it off—the orgasm, not his hand.
Never his hand.

As I came calling his name, Till emptied inside me with his own reverent words.

“My wife.”

I DIDN’T JUST BEAT LARRY Lacy. I knocked him out in the fifth round.

Slate had been right. There wasn’t a person who left that arena who didn’t know my name. I was featured on damn near every major sports network, newspaper, and magazine the next day. I might have been a relatively unknown fighter walking into that ring, but I’d walked out as the man of the hour.

I hated that Eliza hadn’t been there to see it, but the boys couldn’t miss any more school, so she’d stayed at home with them. Before I had even made it out of the ring, I’d been handed a phone with her screaming on the other end. The crowd was going nuts, but she was all I heard. We did a huge press conference the following day before heading home, and for the first time, even as celebrity Slate Andrews sat at my side, the attention was all mine. The fifty-thousand dollar paycheck was nice, although Lacy’s was a hell of a lot bigger, but the excitement of that day was intoxicating.

All I could think about, though, was getting home and
really
celebrating.

“Stop!” Eliza batted my hands away.

“No, you stop. I missed you.” I teased my way under her shirt and sealed my mouth over hers.

“The boys are still awake.” She raked her nails over my back.

“Oh hell no. I’m not waiting for them to fall asleep! Quarry had enough Mountain Dew tonight that he may never sleep again. They know we have sex. They’ll get over it.” I pressed my hardening cock against her core, causing her to throw her head back with a gasp.

“That doesn’t mean I want them to be able to tally how many times I come.”

“Tally them? How the hell many times are you planning to get off, woman?”

She laughed, and with just the sound, my cock became impossibly harder. I bit her nipple to silence her, but it didn’t work, because it turned into a moan that I swear I felt in my balls.

I needed to have her . . . and soon.

“We’ll be quiet.” I pushed into her panties, finding her clit before she could even object.

“I can’t be quiet,” she panted, sliding down the bed and out of my reach.

I dropped my head against the pillow. I was debating if it would be wrong for me to give Flint twenty bucks to take Quarry and go sit in my truck for a half hour when her tongue swirled around the head of my dick.

“Fuck,” I hissed.

“You be quiet. I’ll wake you up in a few hours and take mine. Consider it congratulatory head!”

Her lips formed the most perfect crescent shape as she smiled up at me. It was only outdone by the “O” they made as she sucked my cock to the back of her throat.