Chapter 18
Notes
Look, I’ve never gotten married in Vegas.
I don’t know the practicalities of it. My only experience with getting married in Vegas is dancing around my bedroom to the Katy Perry song, fanfics, and books.
If it wasn’t realistic, I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll go get married in Vegas for the whole experience.
Anyway, enjoy the fall out of them getting married.
Also, yes, I texted him. He texted back a few times. That’s it. If there are more updates about Liam Lowe, I might tell you.
Milo
Rowan was waiting for me on the couch when I got back from Vegas.
The team flight didn’t have all the annoying waiting around commercial flights had.
They were taken straight from the team bus to a waiting plane, and they were in the air within thirty minutes.
I’d had an hour’s wait between security and my original boarding time, and then my flight had been delayed another hour.
I hadn’t minded. It gave me a chance to eat airport food, and I’d always liked airport food.
It also gave me the chance to talk to this seven-year-old boy who was a big Scorpions fan.
His family was on a layover for a flight headed east, and he’d recognized me.
We took pictures. I signed an autograph for him.
I heard all about his peewee football team in northern California, where he was from, and gave him a few tips on how to get around a difficult defenseman he talked my ear off about.
His parents had been apologetic, but I didn’t mind.
I had always loved kids, and this one had recognized me.
He’d said I was one of his favorite players in the entire ALF.
I was easily flattered. Sue me.
The flight itself was uneventful. My seat partner had been a young businesswoman who spent the entire time reading.
She was an upgrade from my seat partner on the trip there; she didn’t smell like onions.
I found a taxi right outside the airport, and there wasn’t much traffic between the airport and my condo.
I didn’t even have to wait for the elevator.
And then, when I opened the door, there was Rowan. He was relaxing on the couch in nothing but a pair of sweats with the Scorpion logo on the leg. His hair was damp from a shower, and he was possibly the most handsome man I’d ever seen in my life. Especially when he smiled at me.
I dropped my bag at the door and crossed the living room to give him a quick kiss. He looped his muscular arms around my waist and pulled me down on top of him. I laughed against his lips, and happiness spread through me.
If this was married life, then I owed drunken me a very big favor.
“I smell like airplane,” I whined after I’d gotten my fill of kissing him.
He pulled me against him tighter, and I could feel his smile against my lips. “I don’t care,” he finally said.
I loved the way his lips moved against mine when he spoke, like he couldn’t stand to pull away from me.
The feeling was mutual, but I did smell like an airplane.
I forced myself to push away from him. Which still wasn’t enough space because his lips were still right there.
I stood up and took a few steps away from the couch.
“Hold that thought. I need to shower.” I began to lift my shirt, teasing him. “Too bad you already took one.”
I didn’t wait for him to respond before I took off toward the bedroom, shedding clothing as I walked. I would have to pick that up later, but that was future Milo’s problem.
By the time I had my water hot and steamy, Rowan had joined me in the bathroom.
The shower took longer than it should have, but I left it feeling completely relaxed, almost boneless.
After I got dressed, I collapsed on the couch with my husband, and we started having the most important discussion of the night: what was for dinner.
It felt very domestic, and I wanted a thousand more nights just like this.
We settled on ordering from a local health food restaurant Rowan enjoyed. When the food came, I transferred it onto real plates, and we ate at the kitchen counter. “I think we need to talk,” Rowan started after a few bites.
My shoulders tensed, and I drew in a deep breath. “You know, that’s probably number one on the list of terrifying things your partner could say to you over a meal,” I informed him as I put my fork down on my plate.
He speared a piece of steamed broccoli on his, and I relaxed a little. If he was still eating, it probably wasn’t anything too serious. “About our plans,” he clarified. Rowan reached out and squeezed my thigh. “I haven’t changed my mind. Still no regrets about waking up married to you.”
I picked back up my fork and cut off a small piece of the grilled chicken I’d ordered. “Okay, that’s less terrifying.”
“First, we need to discuss living arrangements.” Wasn’t the answer to that one obvious?
“I think it’d make the most sense if I move in here.
We both love this building. Ethel is right next door.
My unit is a short-term rental, so all I have to do is email the management company, pay one last month’s rent, and pack a few things. ”
It appeared the answer to that was obvious. “Agreed. Besides, you’ve been here for the past three weeks anyway.”
“We also have to figure out how we’re going to tell people.”
Right. That was something we had to do. Only Jonesy, Liam, Ray, and Aunt Ethel knew we were even dating. This might be a shock to the rest of our team, but I had a feeling people would take it pretty well. No one that mattered had reacted badly when Jonesy and Liam started dating.
My fork stalled halfway between my plate and my mouth as I started mentally listing the people we’d need to tell: Aunt Ethel, Coach Cal, the team’s front office, the team in general, Rowan’s family, Rowan’s friends, Ray.
There were so many people we needed to tell, and that wasn’t even counting the general public.
I had no intention of keeping our marriage quiet.
It wasn’t like either of us would be the first ALF player married to a man.
That honor, like most firsts, went to Rusty Sinclair of the Harlem Hornets.
He and his longtime boyfriend had gotten married a year after he came out.
It had been headline news. While Rowan and I might be the first married teammates, it wouldn’t be as groundbreaking. Probably. Would it?
“We should tell your aunt after dinner. She doesn’t usually have any activities on Monday,” Rowan suggested. “Then, after, we can call Raina and Troy.”
“Should we call them first?” I asked as I stole a look at the clock over the stove. “It’s already eight for them, right?”
“Time zones. Right.”
We made our plans, and as soon as dinner was over, we pulled on shirts and sat on the couch.
We called Troy and Raina first. They were happy for us, but Raina sounded moderately annoyed that she’d missed her favorite brother’s wedding.
Troy thought about things more logically.
He kept talking about Rowan’s contract and how this could affect negotiations and asking questions about what our plans were if either of us was traded to a different team.
Typical agent questions. Neither of them was too impressed with the fact that we didn’t have wedding pictures or clear memories of the ceremony itself.
I had a feeling that would be a common theme.
I wished we had both of those things, too.
After we ended our call, we went to Aunt Ethel’s.
My hand shook as I knocked on the door. What if she got mad at me?
What if the shock killed her? She was the only family I had left.
Rowan’s heavy hand landed on my shoulder, and I relaxed back into him.
“She’s not going to be mad,” he whispered.
His warm breath caressed my ear and soothed my soul.
“She’s going to be happy for us. At most, she’s going to be sad that she missed the opportunity to burn us a wedding cake. ”
My jaw dropped. He did not just say that about my aunt. She wasn’t a bad cook! She’d cooked most of the meals when it had been me, her, and Aunt Annabelle. “Aunt Ethel would’ve made an amazing cake.”
I never got a chance to hear what genius rebuttal Rowan had for that, because my aunt opened her door and invited us inside.
My palms started to sweat the moment we sat on her couch. Rowan’s thigh pressed against mine, and I tried to focus on that instead of my fear of Aunt Ethel’s reaction. Rowan made small talk with my aunt while I mentally girded my loins for her reaction.
Finally, I couldn’t put it off any longer.
“Aunt Ethel,” I started. When Aunt Ethel looked at me, I saw nothing but love in her warm brown eyes.
She’d looked at me with that same love my entire life.
The fact that I’d gotten married without her wouldn’t change that.
Logically, I knew this. “Rowan and I came over because we wanted to tell you something.”
“Is it about those rings you’re wearing?” she asked, nodding her head to the simple gold bands around our fingers.
Right. Those were going to be a dead giveaway to anyone we told.
“We got married last night.” Aunt Ethel’s eyes lit up, and she moved faster than I’d seen her move in years.
She rushed toward me and wrapped her spindly arms around me in the tightest hug she’d ever given me.
When she pulled away, there were tears in her eyes. “Oh, Aunt Ethel, don’t cry!”
“I’m happy for you. I just wish,” she drew in a deep breath and straightened herself up to her full, just barely over five-foot height, “I just wish I would’ve been able to see it.
Your Aunt Annabelle and I—when you came to live with us—we used to talk about the kind of wedding you’d have.
We wanted to make sure it was special. She put away some stuff from your parents, stuff for your wedding, so they could be there.
” Her voice cracked, and my heart ached.