One

Chapter Thirty-Six

TOO. DAMN. HIGH

CAGE

I left my Sleeping Beauty with a CHAPTER ELEVEN card by the bed.

Lake: I think I’m going to really like this chapter! I was thinking of telling my family that I’m getting married. What do you think?

I downed the rest of my breakfast before meeting with my coaches to watch the footage from the previous day’s game.

“Porn?” Grayson, one of my wide receivers sat down across from me.

I continued to stare at Lake’s text. “Better than porn.”

“Not possible.”

“Clearly you haven’t met my favorite lake.”

“Mmm … no, but I’ve seen her photos.”

Looking up, I narrowed my eyes.

He held up his hands. “It’s all good. They’re tasteful. And out of respect to you, I have a copy of the magazine on my coffee table, not on my bed stand.”

“Good to know you value your life.”

Cage: Who’s the lucky guy?

Lake: The one with his face buried between my legs right now.

Cage: Watch it.

Lake: I’m shipping Christmas gifts today. I don’t have anything for your family yet, and Christmas is in one week.

Cage: I’ve taken care of it.

Lake: For real?

I laughed. Grayson gave me a smirk.

Cage: For real.

Lake: What do you want?

Cage: I think you mentioned the area between your legs. Throw a bow on it and I’m good.

Lake: Yeah, so I’m going to call my family now and tell them.

Cage: I didn’t ask your dad for permission. Maybe you should wait until I ask him. Huge oversight on my part.

Lake: Sure. You’ve been attempting to impregnate his daughter for weeks. I feel pretty certain nothing about the proposal was an oversight, but rather an afterthought by this point.

A baby. God, I could hear Tom Jones grilling me about that. “Did you knock my baby girl up? Did you ‘enjoy’ knocking her up?”

Cage: Would it be weird to get married and even have children without actually telling your family?

Lake: Um …

Cage: Forget I asked. Tell them hi. Gotta go. Love you.

“Sexting?”

I shook my head. “Grayson, you need a life.”

“Football is my life.”

Standing, I wiped my mouth one last time and tossed my napkin on my empty plate.

“It’s not a life. It’s a game—one you won’t play forever. A life … get a life, dude.”

LAKE

The guy.

The proposal.

The ring.

By January I had it all. I owed God an apology. Dreams really did come true.

“It’s too big?”

With his nose in the refrigerator, back to me, how did he know I was staring at my ring?

“It is.” I wiggled my fingers, grinning as the early morning light hit it, sending a kaleidoscope of colors splattering along the ceiling and walls.

“I should exchange it.” He turned, pouring a tall glass of orange juice.

My eyes remained glued to my left hand while my right one scooped chocolate hazelnut butter out of my waffle divots. “You shouldn’t.”

“Do your parents know I have playoff tickets for them?”

“Uh huh.” It really was perfect—a simple, round solitaire. A big solitaire sitting atop a diamond and sapphire platinum band.

“They are in the stands with my family. You are in the box with Shayna and the owner’s family.”

I cut my gaze to his. “You’re being overprotective.”

“Tough shit.” He swept my hair off my back and kissed it, letting his lips linger until my skin was covered in goose bumps and my body shivered.

“Your days of sitting in the stands are over. Besides, I didn’t ask for a seat in the box, Gretchen, the owner’s wife, insisted that’s where you and Shayna sit after your incident. ”

“ ’Cause they don’t want to lose a game again because of their quarterback choosing his injured girlfriend over the game.”

“It would be my injured fiancée now, but I’m sure there is more than one reason for their generosity. Again, I don’t give a shit. Your safety is my number one priority.”

I licked my finger clean and turned toward him, hooking my fingers through the belt loops of his faded jeans. “Does this scare you?”

He squinted. “What?”

“This life? Our life? Does it seem too perfect? Us … your near-perfect season … the real possibility of winning the Super Bowl?”

He shrugged. “One game at a time. One day at a time.”

“One wife at a time?” I grinned.

Twisting my ring on my finger, he smiled. “One wife for a lifetime.”

He was good—really good.

“I’m scared.” My lips held a residual smile to hide the true depth of my fear.

Cage’s hand slid behind my hair, gently holding my neck as he leaned down and kissed me. “What are you scared of?” he whispered over my lips.

“I’m afraid we’re too high. I’m afraid the universe—God—is going to demand balance again. I’m afraid we’re going to stop falling when the ground hits us.” I rested my hands flat on his chest. “I’m afraid of the ground.”

Resting his forehead on mine, he rolled it side to side. “Fuck gravity.”

Up.

Up.

Up.

Minnesota made it to the Super Bowl and they made it in the year that Minneapolis was hosting it.

Things couldn’t get any better. I was engaged to a sports rock star.

It didn’t even matter that all the trashy tabloids had us cheating on each other.

Gravity? We weren’t falling anymore. We were flying.

“Just keep moving.” Flint and several bodyguards led me through the sea of fans flooding the field. Confetti snowed down on us as the NFC Championship celebration on the field reached its peak.

I couldn’t see him.

I couldn’t see him.

And then … I saw him and only him. I could barely breathe.

He stood behind the stage wearing his championship shirt and hat.

He looked like a young boy who just lassoed the moon.

Handing me a football, the one he ran into the end zone on the final play of the game, he shook his head.

Then he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the ground.

“Now it’s real. God, I love you! Nothing in my life is real until I’m sharing it with you.” He kissed me and I loved that he couldn’t even contain his grin long enough to kiss me.

“Congratulations! Way to not fumble, Monaghan.” I grinned, biting my bottom lip, feeling the elation of it all on my own face.

Ten seconds. That’s how much time we had in our own little bubble before Flint and the group of security guards succumbed to the throng of players, photographers, and fans.

“Come on.” Cage took my hand and led me to the stairs going up the back of the stage where they were going to present the trophy.

I shook my head, trying to pull my hand out of his grasp. “It’s all you.”

“I’ll throw you over my shoulder.” His brows lifted.

My eyes did their customary roll as I gave in and followed him onto the stage.

Gretchen, the owner’s wife, put her arm around my waist, keeping me steady as Cage took his place in the spotlight with her husband and the head coach as the announcer began the presentation. I needed her support. My whole body shook from the adrenaline.

“Show the cameras that beautiful smile of yours. They love you too, you know.” Gretchen winked.

I wasn’t so sure “they” loved me too. I’m pretty sure there was an “I Hate Lake Jones” Facebook group with thousands of jealous women bashing the girl with the missing leg. Facebook was a shit-fest like that.

I couldn’t hear anything but my own heart pounding and the whoosh of blood in my ears. A few minutes later Cage turned, holding a big-ass football trophy in one hand and reaching for me with his other hand. He kissed me while a sea of flashes flooded the stadium and more cheers erupted.

“Fuck gravity,” he whispered in my ear before turning toward the crowd again.

I smiled, but beneath it was the worst feeling in the world. A knot in my gut pulled so tight I thought I might buckle over. We were too high.

Too. Damn. High …

I rode back with my parents to Cage’s while he finished his post-game interviews. We stopped by the drug store for me to get some toothpaste. The bag I carried back out to the car had a box of pregnancy tests, no toothpaste. My parents were none the wiser.

Brooke, Rob, and the girls beat us back and had boxes of pizza and beer waiting for everyone.

“You feeling okay, sweetie?” My mom asked as I headed toward our bedroom.

I turned, forcing a smile, which was hard to do even with everyone else practically glowing. “Yeah. It’s just been a crazy day. Good but crazy. I’m going to put my toothpaste in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

My mom, nodded, but skepticism lined her brow.

Tearing into the box, I pulled out the first stick.

Negative.

The second and third tests were also negative.

“Shit.” I looked at my disheveled reflection in the mirror.

I wanted to be pregnant so badly because it would have meant the worst feeling ever was for the best reason ever.

Instead, I was left feeling like a fucking bomb was waiting to go off.

Why? I had no clue. It was just a feeling.

A feeling so strong I felt on the verge of tears. I just couldn’t define it yet.

“Cage!” Hayden and Isa screamed in unison.

I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on my face. “Get it together,” I mumbled into the towel as I quickly blotted my face.

I peeked around the corner to the celebration in the kitchen.

Smile. Just smile.

Cage turned, setting down the near-empty bottle of his electrolyte drink. “Hey.”

I smiled. It felt all kinds of wrong, but I did it anyway. “Hey.” Ignoring the cancer eating me up inside, I walked into his waiting arms.

His lips settled next to my ear. “We should have put them up in a nice hotel,” he whispered. His firm erection pressed to my stomach told me why. Apparently making it to the Super Bowl caused extreme horniness.

I should have shared his desperate desires, but the-world-is-coming-to-an-end cloud that hung over me didn’t allow any sunshine on my libido.

“Bedtime girls.” Brooke smiled at us and so did my mom.

Heat climbed up my neck. They knew exactly what Mr. Sports Sensation was whispering to me.

“Mr. Jones.” My mom nudged my dad who still had a beer in one hand and a half piece of pizza in his other hand. “Bedtime. Finish up.”

It felt like a wedding reception where everyone knew exactly what the bride and groom were getting ready to go do, except in the wedding scenario they weren’t doing it in the same house as both sets of parents and two eight-year-olds.

“Goodnight, my boy.” Brooke hugged Cage then her voice lowered a notch. “Your dad would have been so proud.”

Cage swallowed hard and nodded. I looked away, blinking back my own tears.

My dad gave me a hug then pointed to Cage. Cage grinned. “Well done, Lake.”

I rolled my eyes.

“He didn’t ask for my permission to marry you, but I’ll let it slide if he’s named the Super Bowl’s MVP.”

A slight cringe wrinkled Cage’s face. He wanted to ask my dad.

“Goodnight, Dad.”

He released me and patted Cage on the shoulder as he followed my mom to the walk-out level.

“Bedroom,” Cage mouthed to me as we stood alone in the kitchen.

“I should tidy up the kit—Cage!” I squealed, but not before he had me over his shoulder, hauling me toward the bedroom like the caveman he claimed not to be. “Take off your clothes,” he demanded the second my feet touched the ground. The lock clicked. He eyed me with a hungry look. “Off.”

Too. Damn. High.

On a deep breath, I pulled my sweater over my head. His eyes settled on my breasts for a few seconds before he shrugged off his shirt. “Keep going.” A naughty smirk played along his lips.

“My boots,” I whispered.

He kneeled before me, pulling off my yellow Bogs then sliding down my jeans, steadying me with one hand on my waist while his other finished peeling them off my legs.

Rising up onto his knees, his lips pressed to my navel as his hands slid behind me, unclasping my bra.

“So beautiful …” he whispered over my flesh.

I closed my eyes, feeling nothing but the single tear that slid down my cheek.

“Baby …” the pad of his thumb caught it, tracing its path back to my eye. “What’s wrong?”

Too. Damn. High.

“I’m scared.”

He shook his head, hugging me to his body as he stood, taking me with him.

He eased me back on the bed, covering my mouth with his.

Our tongues slid together and more tears clawed their way out as he moaned into me.

When he pushed off the bed to remove his pants, I turned my head and quickly wiped my eyes.

“Lake, look at me.”

On a hard swallow I gave him my eyes.

He slid down my panties as he crawled up my body, never taking his eyes from mine. “Don’t be scared. You’re my world. I’ll protect you with my life. You know that, right?” His chin dipped.

My eyes closed as his tongue circled my nipple. Why was it such a beautiful pain? It should have just been beautiful.

He buried himself inside of me, his lips tasting the skin along my neck.

I felt … nothing. My eyes remained fixed to the white ceiling.

I felt … numb. My hands limp against the back of his head as he moved inside of me.

I felt … dead. My heart slowed … slowed … slowed …