Surviving Us (38 page)

“Not even close,” I interject. “A sixty-one-year-old guy played kicker for a D3 team a few years ago, and a thirty-nine-year-old actually played receiver at South Carolina under Spurrier a while back.”

“How do you know this stuff?” He laughs, showing off his dimples in the process.

I shrug, trying not to smile. “I’m a vault of useless sports knowledge. What can I say?”

“You can say you’ll always be my partner if we’re around when a random game of Trivial Pursuit breaks out,” he teases playfully.

“We’ll see. Now get back to your story.”

“Right,” he says, dropping the animated expression, but keeping his stare locked with mine. “Well, everything with my plan got sped up a bit when Blackmon got hurt on Saturday. Coach Elsik was aware of what I was doing; I’d been sending him footage of my weekly workouts so he could see my progress. So after the game, he called and asked me to come out immediately to do a try out, which I did yesterday, and I got the gig for this season. Due to the circumstances, he’s using his pull with President Swaffer to get my application approved immediately, and we’re all supposed to have a meeting early tomorrow morning about what I need to do.”

My heart soars with pride for him, truly happy our time together made such an impact that he’s turned his life back around so quickly, but I still don’t understand where I fit in now.

“I’m really happy for you, Davis. I think it’s terrific that everything fell into place for you. I’m sure you’re going to have a prolific career here.” I offer a genuine smile, hoping it masks the sadness in my voice.

“And what about us?” he asks with a pinched brow, which I’m not sure is out of confusion or frustration.

“What about us?” I throw the words back at him, scared to even ponder answering that loaded question.

He scoots closer to me on the bed, reaching his hand out to rest on my calf. “My dream is to play football, Bristol, but I can do that anywhere. I came here for
you
. . . for
us
. I wanted to prove to you I’m a man who deserves you.”

I suck in a deep breath, reminding myself not to get too excited over his last statement. After all, actions speak louder than words. “So that’s why you acted the way you did yesterday? After not seeing me for nearly two months, you thought
that
would prove something to me?” I balk.

“I fucked up, babe. I’m so sorry.” Dropping his face in his hands, Davis shakes his head back and forth. “I was so excited to finally get here, and once I found out I really made the team, I couldn’t wait to find you. I sent you that email on the way to the BBQ, telling you where I was going to be, and then you showed up . . . I thought for me, but for some reason Kayden was with you,” he lifts his apologetic gaze back up to mine, “and I just lost it. I thought everything I’d been working so hard for was gone to shit . . . that you’d moved on and with him, of all people.”

“What email are you talking about?” I ask, still stuck on that part of the recollection.

“I looked up your email address at
The
Daily
and sent you a message
.
It was the only way I knew to contact you.”

Now it’s my turn to be frustrated. I jump off the bed and begin pacing across my floor as I process all of this information. “You had my email this whole time, but never bothered to let me know what your plans were? What did you think—I was just sitting around and waiting for you?” I scoff, regardless of the fact I
was
sitting around and waiting for him. “At what point were you planning to contact me if Blackmon hadn’t gotten hurt? When you showed up in January? What if I had moved on?”

“I don’t know for sure when I was going to contact you. I thought about it every fucking day, but I wanted to make sure I had my life in order before I came back to you.” He slides off the bed and puts his hands on my shoulders, his eyes pleading with mine. “I wanted to show you how hard I worked for me
and
for you, to prove I was serious about our future together. All I had was the faith in what we shared together to believe you wouldn’t move on before I got here.”

“So what happened to that faith yesterday?” I implore, trying to ignore my body’s reaction to his touch. “If you would’ve stuck around five damn minutes, you would’ve learned that Kayden, who I’ve only talked to once online since we’ve been back, had mysteriously shown up at the football game the day before, completely uninvited and unannounced, but instead, you acted like a complete asshole.”

“I told you I fucked up, babe. I was so overcome with emotion when I first saw you, and then to see him with you . . . I self-destructed and let my inner-dick take over. I’m so very sorry. I will do anything to make it up to you. Please.”

Gliding his hands up to my neck, he cradles his thumbs under my jawline and lowers his face to mine, so close I can feel his warm breath fluttering across my mouth as he speaks. “We belong together. I’m more sure of that than I am anything else in this world. No one can understand the things you and I have been through like we can. You’re the bikini-lovin’, music-snobbin’, snake-wrangling trouble I need to keep my shoe-buyin’, wall-kissin’, star-making ass in line.”

His lips brush across mine ever-so-lightly. “I know we have a lot to learn about each other and about life, but I also know in a matter of two weeks, I fell in love with everything about you, and I want nothing more than to have you by my side through it all.”

My mouth slams onto his in a demanding kiss before he can utter another word. My forgiveness pours from my tongue to his in an orchestrated dance of reunion, insistent and passionate, where the spoken word is no longer necessary. I know without a doubt in my mind he means every word he said, and though it won’t always be easy, I’m confident that together we’ll figure out how to survive in this precious life we’ve been gifted.

“You know, Trouble, you were wrong about one thing,” Davis says after our mouths finally pull away from each other, that damn irresistible cocky smirk already back home on his face.

“Really? What’s that?” I ask, my heart overflowing with hope and joy.

“No matter how great the story is, it’s
always
about the happy ending.”

Three and a half years later

Davis

“Count them for me,” I urge in between the forceful swipes of my tongue and gentle nips of my teeth.

With her head tilted back, looking up at the night sky, Bristol moans something that sounds like “One, two . . . a million,” as she threads her fingers through my hair, which is kept grown out on her request for exactly this purpose.

Chuckling, I withdraw my mouth from the silky smooth skin of her lower lips and peer up the length of her body into the soft spray of the outdoor shower. The drops of water cling to her petite frame and glisten in the shimmering glow of the moonlight, making her look downright angelic.

“There are really a million stars up there, eh?” I tease, digging my fingertips into her hipbones.

She yanks on my hair, forcing my face back between her legs. “Shhh . . . good husbands are better seen, not heard,” she jests back, lowering her gaze to mine with a mischievous grin.

My laugh rolls into a low, lingering hum, vibrating over her sweet spot. The sexy little whimper that escapes her mouth is one of my favorite sounds. Ever. It makes my dick rock-hard instantly, and over the last few years, she’s become keenly aware of its effect on me and uses it to her advantage often. Not that I mind at all.

I continue to worship her body with my mouth, my tongue alternating between swirling over her swollen nub and dipping into her tight slit until she’s on the brink of her orgasm. Unable to resist her any longer, I rise up from my knees and spin her around, positioning her hands on the rock wall. I waste no time in grabbing her hips, tilting them up to be in line with the tip of my cock, and plunging deep inside her sweltering core.

“Oh fuck, babe,” I groan as I begin to stroke in and out, first slowly, but quickly increasing my speed. “You feel even better as Mrs. McKay.”

One hand remains at the small of her back as the other inches upward, wrapping her long, wet hair around my palm. Tugging with controlled force, I pull her head back and to the side, giving me access to that mouth I love so fucking much as my shaft pumps us closer and closer to our release.

“Davis, oh my God . . . that’s it . . . don’t stop . . . almost there.” She pants out the words and I know I’m not far either. As soon as I feel her unravel, I always follow right behind.

Minutes later, she cries out in ecstasy as her inner walls clamp down on my dick, clenching and quivering, causing me to explode with a guttural growl. Neither of us moves for a while; both of us just stand there as the water rains down on our joined bodies, reveling in our first intimate moment as husband and wife.

Gradually withdrawing from her body, I quickly soap us both up and thoroughly rinse us. I lift her languid body into my arms and carry her into the cottage, then dry her with a fluffy Ti Kaye towel prior to lying her on the bed.

“Can I get you anything, babe?” I ask as I grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge.

“Just you in this bed,” she mumbles drowsily, struggling to keep her eyes open.

I take a quick gulp of the cold liquid before climbing on top of the mattress, pulling her snugly against me. With my arms wrapped tightly around her middle, I nuzzle my face into the side of her neck, peppering the soft skin with tender kisses.

“I can’t believe twenty-four hours ago we were at our wedding,” I say, simply thinking out loud.

She twists her head around on the pillow to smile up at me. “I can’t believe I’m married to the number one overall draft pick of the NFL.”

Rubbing the tip of our noses together, I grin as I recall the shock and surprise of my name being called so early in last month’s draft. Other than Bristol saying yes to my proposal, it was truly one of the most humbling moments in my life.

“And you’re the reason for all of it, Trouble. Without meeting you here, I probably never would’ve picked up a football again,” I softly kiss her lips, “and I definitely would’ve never found my reason for living.”

She snuggles in closer and sighs contently. “I love you, Davis.”

“I love you too, Mrs. McKay.”