“Oh my God,” he whispered into my hair, my face still fully shoved into his damp neck. “I think you might’ve killed me,” he croaked. “My toes are crampin’.”

I snorted, rubbing my hand up and down his spine as his cock twitched once more.

Zac slid his hand down my back, and if he hadn’t been so sweaty, I would’ve been self-conscious about how sweaty I had to be too.

“I don’t think I have any cum left in me,” he whispered, still out of breath.

I pulled back just enough so I could look at his face, raising a hand to bury it in the back of his head, tangling my fingers through his hair. “Let me check.”

He tossed his head back with a laugh. “No!”

He was grinning as his hands stroked my back, ribs, hips, and back up to my hair. He kissed me softly and sweetly as his gaze moved over my face before he hugged me again, chest to chest, his head tucking against the top of my head.

“Snack Pack?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t need fancy houses or sweet kitchens, okay? Or these grand gestures like you driving up the day before one of the biggest games of your life. I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t have these crazy expectations. You have so much pressure on you, and the last thing I want is to be one more thing you’ve got to work too hard at. Especially now, after today.”

His body tensed under mine, but I felt his hand stroke my back slowly, taking his time. His breathing was a little uneven, but it was there, puffing against my hair. “Kiddo, look at me.”

I sat up a little, just a little, so I could look at his face, and I smiled at him.

His hand stroked my ribs; his face was intent. “I’ll tell you as many times as I need to because I know you haven’t heard it enough and you deserve to, and because I like to say it too, all right? You’re important. You matter to me more than any game. Any practice. Anything. Where you go, I go. You are never gonna be something I have to schedule in. You are never not gonna be a priority to me.” He leaned forward and stroked my face then. “You’ve popped up into my life when I’ve needed you the most so far, and I’m gonna need you to stick around for the rest of it.” He paused. “We’re in this together, understand me?”

I understood. I understood big-time.

And somehow, I managed to pull one thought out of my head as I sat there looking at this man who I adored. That I would do anything for. Go anywhere for. “Does that mean… you’ll go to Disney with me when I reschedule my trip?”

His smile softened, and he pressed his forehead against mine, those warm fingertips tickling my back. “You better believe it, kiddo.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

About two months later, he kept his word.

We went to Disney World.

Zac waved at people as he held up a trophy as big as my niece, and I got to ride in the float he was on beside the driver, sucking it all up.

The papers, analysts, and commentators called it the “greatest upset in NFO history.” I called it Zac being cheap and knowing if he won the biggest game of his life, he could take me for free. Regardless of what anyone wanted to call it though, there was one thing I knew for sure.

Sometimes dreams really did come true.

One of mine just happened to be six foot three, two hundred and ten pounds, and had the cutest little peach butt in the world.

He had a name, and it was Zac.

And I knew this was just our beginning.

Epilogue

I tried to be as quiet as possible as I tiptoed into the bedroom, holding a glass of water in one hand and my dead cell in the other.

I didn’t want to wake up Zac.

He’d tried to stay up with me, but the second time I found him with his head drooped to the side, eyes closed while he sat on the couch in my office, I’d told him to go lay down. And from the side lamp that was still on and the tablet lying facedown on his chest, I knew he’d still tried to wait up for me. Just when I didn’t think I could love him any more than I already did, he did stuff like this, staying up when I knew he was exhausted.

Setting my glass down and plugging in my phone, I sat on the edge of the bed and peeked over at his sleeping, perfect face.

I’d won the damn lottery with this guy.

He looked so sweet and innocent with his eyes closed. As tan as ever, he was still lined with those long, lean muscles that stretched and flexed with every one of his movements when he was awake. His breathing was nice and soft. His lashes lay long against his cheekbones.

I was such a creeper, but I could stare at his face all day.

And with him sleeping… well, I could. At least without him noticing and then winking at me and tugging me over. Part of me kind of hoped he woke up now that I thought about it. But I knew he needed his sleep.

I’d never tell him to his face, but it was taking him a little longer and longer every year to recover after a game. He’d just gotten home that morning from a win in fucking Oklahoma. I’d gotten way too much pleasure at the White Oaks kicking the Thunderbirds ass the night before.

As I had every time they did over the last five years. It was a deep, personal satisfaction that I thought all of us who loved Zac felt when the other team lost. Even Boogie’s daughter had run around the living room giving out high fives when everyone watched the game at our house the night before. I could still hear Paw-Paw hooting up a storm.

Part of me couldn’t believe we were still in Houston. Or that Zac was still starting, not after everything that had happened to him during the first half of his career.

Then again, the other part of me—the majority of me—could believe it. Easily.

Zac had found his feet, his place, and he’d flourished. Even the TSN commentator, Michael B, who had done nothing but criticize him for the longest, sang his praises now.

And Zac had two enormous rings to prove he was worth all his accolades.

Then again, he’d always been worth every positive word ever said about him—at least I thought so. I was biased though.

“But neither one of ’em is my most important ring,” he’d told me with a wink a few months ago, when he’d locked them into the safe at our house near Austin.

“You starin’ at me again, kiddo?” Zac yawned, peeking an eye open before slowly smiling. His shoulders hunched up around his chin as he stretched a little. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just counting all the gray hairs in your beard,” I whispered, taking the tablet off his chest and setting it on the nightstand.

He chuckled as he wiggled deeper under the sheets before turning onto his side and lifting them up for me to sneak under. I caught a peek of his black boxer briefs and all the beautiful, endless lines of his body as I slid in, tugging my pillow closer to his. Zac smiled at me before yawning again and scooting over too until we were face-to-face in our bedroom. “How many did you count this time?”

“I lost count after fifty, old man,” I lied.

He laughed as he settled in. “You got your website fixed?” he asked, referring to what I’d been doing in my office when he’d passed out.

“Yeah, it just took a lot longer than I had expected,” I answered him, stroking a finger down the line of his nose.