Chapter 47 #2
“I’m going to fall on my ass, Em.”
“Never. Not when you have me holding you.”
Reluctantly, I do as he previously instructed.
“Attagirl,” he praises, and I’m not ashamed to admit that in front of twenty thousand people, I grow a little wet.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, almost sure that he won’t hear me.
“Taking my girlfriend for a spin. It’s standard practice when she wears her man’s jersey for the first time.”
Circling me, Emmett takes my hands in his and then glides backward, pulling me along with him.
At first, my eyes are everywhere, and I wonder what the hell people must be thinking or even saying about a girl they’ve never seen before, holding hands with their golden-boy defenseman.
But as we approach center ice and the players and their partners move to one side for us, all the noise fades to nothing but a low hum, Emmett’s bright smile capturing all of my attention.
“Are we doing a lap of honor?” I tease.
“Do you want to?”
I shake my head quickly. “Absolutely not. There are way better—and safer—ways to announce our relationship to the world.”
Reaching the center of the rink, Emmett brings us both to a stop.
Thank God.
In his skates, he towers over me, tipping my chin up to look at him.
“What if I just kissed you right here? Would that be a better way to reveal the woman I love?”
My knees grow weak. “I’ve had worse introductions.”
Hands loop around my ass, and I just about wrap my legs around his hockey padding, crossing my feet over at the ankles.
“Want to know something?” I ask.
He brushes his lips over mine, the low murmur of our surroundings rising a few decibels louder. Still, it isn’t enough to drown out this moment.
“Tell me,” he replies, closing his eyes at the feeling of my fingers sifting through his damp hair.
I bring my lips closer to his ear. “Hockey gear smells so unbelievably bad.”
He pulls me into his body. “Are you trying to say that I smell bad, Bill? You already think that I’m old as shit.”
Smirking like a brat, I bury my face into the crook of his neck. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
He releases a long sigh. “Well, that’s a crying fucking shame. Here I was, thinking that you loved every part of me until the end of time.”
When I lift my head to take in the arena, all of Emmett’s teammates are arranged in a perfect circle around us, along with their family members.
I pull back, hands wrapped around his neck. “Em, what’s going on?”
Sliding me down his body, Emmett’s hands grip my hips tighter, keeping me steady while I find my footing back on the ice.
Like a freaking swan, Darcy slides up alongside Emmett, a face full of delight when she passes something to him.
“Em,” I repeat, “what are you doing?”
He clears his throat, whatever Darcy just handed to him hidden inside a tight fist. “Adding some more bricks as we build our lives together.”
When my eyes fall to his hand, Emmett opens his fingers. A small powder-blue box rests in his palm.
My breath catches in my throat, heart racing a million beats per minute.
“If someone had told me back in February that I’d be standing at center ice and celebrating a second Cup win, I’d have probably believed them. My teammates are that good.” He casts his eyes around the group of players I know he considers to be family.
“But if they had told me that I’d be standing in front of my best friend’s daughter, planning to offer her my ring, I’d have called out that lie in an instant.”
Over Emmett’s shoulder, I can see Jack excitedly fist-bump his stepdad.
Pulling a deep breath into his lungs, Emmett slowly drops to one knee, one hand still wrapped around my hip.
The hum of the arena falls completely silent, anticipation fizzing in the air as I pull deep gulps into my lungs.
“You’re probably going to think that I’m an idiot for choosing this moment to ask you.
” He chuckles, gorgeous gray eyes staring up at me as he flips the lid on the box, and a blue oval diamond ring, set on a thin white band, glistens under the lights.
“Maybe even delusional to think that the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on could want to spend the rest of her life with an old man like me. ”
When I drop to my knees in front of him, dampness soaks through my jeans and trickles down my cheeks.
“Emmett,” I breathe, reaching out to touch the ring of my dreams, nestled in the palm of the greatest person ever.
Emmett tucks his other knee beneath him so we’re almost face-to-face.
It’s like we’re washing and drying dishes in my parents’ kitchen or lying awake, talking in bed until the early hours of the morning.
There’s just us and no one else.
“I promised you that I’d always be honest, Bill.
” He rubs his thumb under my eye. “And I’d be a liar if I said that I wanted to or even could wait another day to make you my wife.
We may have our doubters, and to them, I say, Watch me love this girl and our baby until I breathe my last goddamn breath. ”
I blow out a wet sob, not caring that my mascara isn’t waterproof.
“I want to wake up to your face each morning and kiss your lips every night. I know that there are so many years between us and that we’ve only been dating a short while.
But what I’ve recently learned about the metric of time is that it doesn’t actually matter at all.
Not when you realize that love doesn’t play by the rules.
All it cares about is how two souls fit together, never to be torn apart.
” He rolls his lips, mouth no doubt as dry as my own.
“So, what I want is for you to say yes as I pluck this ring from its box and lower it to your finger, asking for permission to make you mine forever.”
As Emmett does as he just described, he hands the box off to Sawyer.
With our foreheads pressed together, his trembling hand hovers the ring over my finger.
“Billie Freya Quinn, will you marry me?”
Emmett could’ve asked me this question today, next year, or a whole decade from now. There was only ever going to be one answer.
“With every piece of me, Em, yes.”