Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER…
GRAYSON
“You are Ms Alvarez’s guest, yes?” an older woman with a French accent asks me.
“Yes,” I nod.
Selena sent a car to pick me up at the airport, and a ticket to today’s game.
“Come with me,” the woman says and leads me down a corridor, up an elevator, and into a private suite.
Other people are already there. A woman carrying a baby, an older couple, and two men having drinks.
“Welcome to Family Suite A,” the woman carrying the baby says. “You must be here with Selena,” she adds, pointing at what I’m wearing. “I’m Audrey, this is Emma. Her mommy is left winger. Isn’t mommy left winger? Yes, she is!”
I shake Audrey’s hand, and keep walking. Apparently, this, and the adjacent suites, are where spouses, siblings, and parents are invited to watch their players. All these people seem to know each other, and take turns carrying the fussy child.
I check my phone, but the last message I have from Selena is from early this morning.
Princess
have a safe flight! don’t forget the patches!
She found over-the-counter motion sickness patches for me. They’ve been incredibly helpful.
Five minutes later I received another text.
Princess
there’s something I want to show you!
Immediately, I picture inappropriate scenarios featuring my girlfriend naked and very willing. Anyone in my position would. The last night we spent together was a couple days after graduation six months ago.
During those rare days she was able to visit, we’ve managed to sneak off by ourselves. One such occasion is clear in my mind.
“I want to try something,” Selena grinned, nervous and blushing, but determined too. She was still wearing my jersey and dropped to her knees. “Teach me how to make you feel good.”
And I did. Showed her what I liked, praised her, loved every second of that pretty mouth wrapped around my cock.
She asked me to walk her through it.
“Use your hand, princess.”
“Open wider.”
“Stick your tongue out.”
Her mouth made it difficult to think straight.
“You’re doing so good.”
And she was. Such a fast learner, sucking on the head, taking me deep, gagging when I hit the back of her throat…swallowing every last drop.
I’m getting hard just thinking about it. It was fucking perfect. She’s fucking perfect. Not sure I deserve her, but I want her all the same.
Agent extraordinaire Leticia Aquino worked her magic and pressured our athletic director to make a call, since she wasn’t legally able to do it herself at the time. Letty managed to secure a late-season tryout in France, of all places.
After getting permission from the school, Selena was on a flight to Paris the next day. Tryouts went so well, the club didn’t hesitate to offer her a starting position. However, my girl didn’t accept it. At first.
She didn’t want to leave the TLU Lions without their star defender going into playoffs.
Jess, her teammates, and even her parents all understood the unique, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for what it was and gave their blessing, but Selena didn’t join Paris Verte FC until after she helped TLU win another championship. The third in a row.
This new arrangement meant she had to travel back and forth, completing most of her classwork online, only flying back to Tower Lake to take finals and walk the stage at graduation.
I was lucky enough to see her then, but her parents were visiting as well, which meant our time together was severely limited.
Just as quickly as she arrived, she left. Back to Paris.
Since then, our relationship has consisted of texting everyday—multiple times a day—lengthy video calls, and selfies for my eyes only, but the truth is I miss her. A lot.
Texts, calls, and pictures cannot compare with the real thing. But I’m here now.
The game is fast-paced and exciting. The crowd is highly involved, cheering and singing. And, these women are much more aggressive than anything played at Tower Lake. My chest swells with pride when I see Selena not only keeping up, but outshining them all.
“Your wife is amazing,” someone behind me calls out.
I don’t realize they’re talking to me until they repeat their statement. Then, I accept the compliment.
“She really is,” I reply without hesitation, never keeping my eyes off her down on the pitch. And I don’t simply mean at soccer. She’s fucking amazing at everything.
This incredible girl who makes me feel too many things. My best friend’s sister who hated me once upon a time. Now, she’s making me laugh. Making distance feel inconsequential. Making me believe happy endings do exist.
The truth is, while we’re not married, the ring currently burning a hole in my pocket feels heavy for one reason only: I can’t fucking wait to put it on her finger.
SELENA
I am literally living the dream I had at twelve years old. Playing professional soccer for a living! In Paris, no less. And I’m getting paid well enough that I was able to pay off my parents’ home. I get a little emotional every time I think about it.
Despite watching telenovelas and reading romance books, I didn’t picture myself with anyone growing up.
Boys and boyfriends were never allowed to be a priority, but times change.
Case in point: Grayson Rhodes. I almost hooked up with him the first time we met, then we spent three and a half years hating each other only to fall in love weeks before graduating Tower Lake. Life is funny that way.
He’s been such a surprise and continues to be every day.
Even though it’s not easy for him to be open about whatever he’s dealing with—his jerk of a father, the loss of his mom, the difficulty of a long distance relationship, or having to play minor league ball—he’s working on it.
I mean, for two people who’ve never been in a romantic relationship before, I think we’re both doing really good.
What Grayson has no problem with is showing his affection for me! And what’s clear now is that his love languages are physical touch and gift-giving.
For my twenty-second birthday, Grayson bought and wrapped twenty-two books and had them shipped to my apartment in Paris. I was sniffling and crying as I unwrapped each one. It was just so sweet and thoughtful…just like him.
Despite the nine hour difference, he calls me every night and texts every morning.
When he’s starting his day, I’m finishing practice and getting ready to go home.
When I’m ending my day, he’s getting lunch.
It’s been months of this! But today, at last, he’s here!
I’ve never wanted a game to be over more than this one because waiting for me at the end of it, is him.
Finally, after we defeat Lyon 2-0, talk to the press, listen to the coach’s notes, shower and change, then I head up to the family suites.
Until now, I’ve only been up here to accompany some of my teammates when they meet up with their families.
I’m so freaking nervous and excited, I’m about to burst!
When the elevator door opens, I practically run down to where he’s at. When I step inside, I see him. Those blue eyes, the black, tussled hair, a pair of dimples, a backpack thrown over one broad shoulder, and lean hips I want to feel between my own.
Surprising me again, he’s standing there wearing my jersey.
Grayson Rhodes is wearing my last name and my number across his back.
My pulse flutters. The white-with-green-trim Paris Verte FC jersey has never looked better.
It’s fits snugly around his shoulders and biceps, and if Letty was here, she would tell me to stop drooling.
“Grayson,” I say, sounding breathless.
He's on me in three strides. Something like a sob breaks past my lips as I feel heat and hard muscle envelop me.
“Finally.” His voice is rough as he holds me tight against him.
“I’m sorry the game ran long.”
“I’m sorry the last three months did.”
“I missed you,” I whisper. I did, so much.
Every night I looked forward to his phone call, desperately wanting to hear the deep, smooth cadence of his baritone.
I laid in bed, aching to feel his warm touch.
I daydreamed, picturing the way he looked at me, riling up the butterflies and setting my body on fire.
That painful, profound longing that accompanied every moment we’re not together is gone, like it never existed because I’m right here in his arms.
“Fucking missed you, princess. So damn much.”
I’m not sure how long we stand there, but everything’s a blur afterwards.
I know we walk out together, as he takes my hand in his.
I know that the intensity radiating from him is so potent I can almost taste it.
His eyes follow my every movement, hungry and possessive.
When the elevator door closes, he slips one arm around my waist, but we’re not alone. There’s always someone around.
There are people in the elevator with us. In the car too (because my teammate Ava Wong didn’t request her own car, so she rides with us to her apartment which is in the building next to mine). There are people in the lobby and going up the staircase.
But the moment I lock the door, Grayson’s hands are on me. He’s cupping my face and his lips claim mine, dizzying and intoxicating.
I breathe him in, letting his tongue invade my mouth, loving how his fingers grip my waist, sliding higher to massage my breasts just the way I like. I moan with three months worth of pent up longing and desperation.
“Grayson.” His scent engulfs me, my heart twirls, my insides flip.
“I’m here,” he rasps, pulling the sweater I’m wearing over my head. “I’m always going to be here.” My bra disappears next. “Been dreaming of this…”
“You dream about me?”
“Every fucking night.”
His eyes are full of reverence. His hard length presses against my stomach, making my core clench.
When he grabs my ass and lifts me against the door, it’s almost like time stands still. Grayson’s kissing me, grinding his hips against mine, his movements frantic and electrifying.