Epilogue #2
Instead of having her rent another flat post-Chicago, I’d asked her to move in with me.
I’d never lived with a girlfriend before, but I loved waking up next to her in the morning and listening to her breathe at night.
The anxiety I’d felt over being at home was long gone now that Seth had been apprehended and tried for attempted murder, amongst other things.
Long story short: the former kit manager was going to be in prison for a long, long time.
Everyone at Blackcastle had been stunned by the news, but life moved on.
We’d hired a new kit man—one who had to undergo extensive vetting and evaluations—and we were already deep into our season.
Brooklyn and I both also started therapy again, which had been extremely helpful in dealing with the Seth trauma.
Spike wasn’t working for me anymore since the intruder threat had been neutralized, but I’d kept his security plans in place just in case.
If Seth had taught me anything, it was that I needed to be more careful.
His unfettered access to the players meant he was able to steal my house key and make a copy of it.
He’d also hacked into my devices and found my security codes, so now everything was locked down per Spike’s instructions.
“What are you thinking about?” Brooklyn asked during a commercial break.
“Hmm?” I traced an absentminded circle on her shoulder.
“You’re too quiet, which means you’re thinking hard about something.”
“I’m thinking about how good those pancakes on the show look.” Bake Off didn’t feature pancakes often, but when they did, man, they looked incredible.
Brooklyn lifted her head to stare at me in horror. “Don’t tell me you want to make pancakes again. Are you trying to die?”
After last fall’s fire, Brooklyn and I were equally convinced that I was cursed when it came to pancakes.
I wasn’t allowed to make them ever again, not even with professional supervision.
She did, however, make them for me every Sunday.
In return, I made her her favorite smoothies every day.
Blenders were one of the least fire-prone kitchen appliances, so I felt confident I could operate one without summoning emergency services.
I laughed. “No. But besides the pancakes, I was also thinking about you.”
“Really?” She raised a playful eyebrow. “Tell me more.”
“I was thinking about how good you look in this shirt…” I ran a hand over her bare thigh.
She was wearing a football shirt similar to the one she’d worn during our first-ever Bake Off viewing together, only this one had my name on the back.
“And how good you smell…” I kissed the sensitive spot below her ear.
A shiver ran through her body. “And how glad I am that you’re here. ”
“Are you trying to butter me up for something later?” she teased, but her voice hitched when I trailed another kiss down her neck.
“Maybe. Is it working?”
“Maybe.” Brooklyn pulled back and tilted her head to her left. “But not in front of company.”
Oh, shit.
I glanced over at where Truffle the pig stared at us from his designated armchair. He wore a black and purple shirt with Unofficial Blackcastle Mascot printed across the front.
Stevens was out of town for the weekend, so I’d volunteered to pet-sit while he was gone.
So far, Truffle had been an exemplary houseguest—cute, polite, and quite clean, no matter what the Angry Boar’s owner said. But right now, he was definitely judging us hard.
“Sorry, buddy,” I said as Brooklyn laughed. “I forgot you were there for a second.”
He oinked his dissatisfaction.
I walked over, picked him up, and set him in my lap as the show resumed onscreen. My late-night plans with Brooklyn would have to wait, but I couldn’t be too upset.
She snuggled up against my side again, and a wave of contentment washed over me.
I’d played in sold-out stadiums across Europe.
I’d launched a record-breaking campaign with Zenith and had more money than I could spend in a lifetime.
They were shining accomplishments in my life, but they weren’t everything. I didn’t need that external validation anymore. I’d even deleted my birth mum’s number from my phone. After everything that had happened over the past year, I realized I couldn’t care less why she gave me up.
She’d never been part of my life, and I’d rather focus on the people who wanted to be here.
I wrapped my arm tighter around Brooklyn and kissed the top of her head. She shifted slightly, settling closer to me with a happy sigh.
Nothing beat moments like this—sitting on the sofa with the woman I loved, watching my favorite show and knowing everything I needed was right here in my arms.
I’d lived in this house for years, but Brooklyn’s presence changed everything.
For the first time in my life, I understood what it meant to be truly home.
He can resist any woman in the world…except for the one he shouldn’t want. Read The Keeper for Noah and Carina’s story.
Thank you for reading The Defender!