Chapter Four
Lily
Monday…
I had to go to work today, which was made easier by having my own car. Keaton offered to let me use his, his preference being truck, but I declined. He drove me this morning and we stopped at my place to pick it, and more items, from my place.
When he’d suggested getting them, I think I shocked him when I agreed without debate.
If we’re doing this, I’m going all in. Not to mention he will be starting training camp soon, followed by the season and his ridiculous schedule.
Spending time with him will be a lot easier if we’re in the same place.
We haven’t made any steps to plan the wedding, despite numerous people online pondering when we’ll have it, the venue, colors, etc.
At this moment, we aren’t in a rush to make it official on paper. We’ve defined what we are between us and that’s what matters.
I still wear my ring, not wanting to create a frenzy amongst his fans or the media if I’m seen without it. Speculation would fly and that could cause problems for both our jobs.
I know about the gentleman clause in his contract, Keaton having shared it with me when he’d told me he wanted to speak to his boss and agent about what Martin witnessed. I’d agreed completely that they should know and thanked him for trusting me with the secret.
I haven’t met Beck yet, but Keaton said I will after he returns from training camp.
Apparently, every year following it, Beck hosts a cookout at his house for the players and their loved ones.
Keaton said Beck does it for two reasons.
He views the team as an extension of his family and to thank theirs for sharing them with him and the fans.
It’ll be my first time meeting those closest to Keaton, including his parents as they’ll be invited, too.
He leaves in a week and I am dreading it. I’ve gotten so used to seeing him every day, to waking up beside him. Not that we’ve done anything other than sleep. I’ve just become addicted to falling asleep wrapped in his arms.
Within them, I feel as if nothing can hurt me.
Ironic since I thought he would be what did that.
A gross, and unfair, bias on my part because of what he does. An unfounded judgment that could’ve cost me the happiness he brings me had I listened to it.
I’ve fallen for Keaton. A fact that doesn’t scare me in the slightest.
He’s the reason I can’t stop smiling, can’t recall what life was like before meeting him.
“Ms. Wren,” is called out behind me and I tense, fearing a reporter has followed me into the hospital.
Thankfully, it’s just a parent wanting to thank me for helping their son.
I speak with her for a few minutes, telling her it was my pleasure and how sweet their child is.
And neither are simply platitudes meant to offer comfort in a heartbreaking situation.
I mean both. I know exactly who he is, why he’s here, and what he wanted me to draw on him.
Superman.
He said that nothing can touch the Man of Steel and he was hoping that, if he borrowed his shield, it would work on him, too.
I cried as soon as I could get a minute alone.
I know he’ll be okay, that his treatment has been effective and his prognosis good, but his optimism, his ability to find good while enduring something so traumatic really got to me.
It also pointed out how easily things change.
How quickly a life could end.
What if I kept putting off something, always promising someday, but I never got to actually do it.
Someday doesn’t always come.
I want to be with Keaton.
I don’t want to wait for someday.
I want all the days I can have.
Withdrawing my cell, I send him a quick text, knowing he may not see it for a while since he’s got a full day of conditioning, going over the playbook, studying films, and meetings to prepare for the chaos that training camp will bring.
Me: Still want to get married?
Tight End: I’ve got time.
I laugh, surprised at how right this feels, while trying to formulate my next message. Before I can, he sends another.
Tight End: Michigan has a three-day waiting period after applying for a license. However, they’ll waive it for a fee.
Me: I think that’s called a bribe.
Tight End: Not that I’d be opposed to that if it meant making you my wife sooner, but they actually accept a fee. It’s only twenty-five dollars.
Me: You aren’t wasting any time researching this. Worried I’ll change my mind.
Tight End: Yes.
Me: Never.
I make it through the rest of the day in a daze, thankful it’s a shorter shift and I’m able to meet Keaton at the courthouse.
He asked for assistance, in the form of his boss who it seems knows everybody – and if he doesn’t, one of his brothers do – and found an employee that would let us in a different entrance.
All it cost was four tickets to the first home game.
We quickly apply for the license, pay the fee to skip over the waiting period, then we’re standing in front of a Justice of the Peace.
“Crap!” We need witnesses.
“Got it covered,” Keaton informs me. As if they were waiting for their cue, the door opens and in walks my mom, May, followed by a man that has to be Keaton’s dad, and Gareth. I’ haven’t met him yet, but Keaton showed me a team photo and “introduced” me to each player.
“Rings?”
My mom steps forward and presses two into my hand.
I laugh when I see two that clearly came from a gumball machine.
“They’ll do in a pinch,” Keaton says, thanking her for them as he takes the feminine one to put on me.
I already know I’ll keep mine forever and cherish it.
The gleam in Keaton’s eye lets me know he’ll do the same for his.
We repeat our vows when told to, slide the rings on each other, then share our first kiss as husband and wife.
“Mr. Wayne,” I greet him when we pull apart.
“Mrs. Wayne,” he grins.
“You’re stepping on my line,” the Justice of the Peace quips, making the group laugh.
“Congratulations,” he says, shaking each of our hands.
Leaning toward Keaton, he asks, “Can I introduce you now?” My husband – that will never get old – nods and our officiant clears his throat and declares, “Presenting Mr. and Mrs. Wayne.”
For such a small crowd, the applause rivals that of a stadium on game day. And the majority of it is coming from Gareth. He and Keaton share a hug and the bond between them is evident.
“Let’s eat,” Keaton suggests. “My treat.”
That has Gareth cheering even louder, which I didn’t know was possible. His enthusiasm is contagious and soon we’re all celebrating. As our guests, our family, head toward the exit, Keaton squeezes my hand, stopping me from going.
When the door closes behind them, we’re alone and Keaton gives me a sweet kiss. “You’re my wife.”
“You’re my husband.”
“I will do everything in my power to make sure you never regret choosing me.”
“I never could. Everything that happened brought me to you. Next to you is where I belong.”
“Damn straight,” Keaton confirms. “I would’ve always found you, fy seren.”
**Keaton**
Celebrating over dinner with everyone was nice, yet I couldn’t wait to get my wife home. She’s been in my bed since the second night she stayed here, but we both know this will be completely different.
She wanted to take a shower first, claiming she had a surprise for me, so I grabbed my things and used the one down the hall. Entering our room, I forget how to breathe when I find her laying on the bed in my jersey.
Fuck me.
“That is the sexiest sight I’ve ever seen.”
“If I’d had more time to plan, I would’ve gone lingerie shopping.”
“Don’t you dare. It couldn’t have come close to being better than this.
” And then she flips onto her stomach and pushes her hair to the side.
Where before it read Wayne, there’s now a Post-It with Mrs. handwritten on it.
“Greatest gift ever.” Kneeling beside her, I lean down and kiss her. “I love you, wife.”
“I love you, husband.” Returning to her back, she grins and says, “I’m not sure what I like the sound of better. Wife or fy seren.”
“Determining that will require research. Decades and decades of me calling you both so you can choose with all of the facts.”
“I’d like that.”
“I might have to take you the first time while you’re wearing this,” I warn her as my fingertips graze the hem of my jersey and slowly start pushing it up.
“About that,” she nervously tells me. “This will be my first time period.”
“Mine, too.” I’m not in the least ashamed that she’ll be the only woman to ever know me in this way. Lily doesn’t ask why or declare that I’m teasing her. Instead, she nods, somehow knowing it’s tied to my illness.
Not wanting to rush this, despite the painful ache in my cock, I ease the hem up and take in my wife. Kissing her side, she giggles. “That tickles.”
“Then how did you get a tattoo there?” She shrugs, adorable in her inability to explain how she can handle one but not the other.
I explore to my heart’s content, knowing I’ll treasure this memory for the rest of my life, but soon, she’s begging me to make love to her and I find that I can’t deny her anything.
Grabbing a condom, from a brand-new pack Gareth had slipped me at the restaurant, I slide it on and gently prod my wife’s entrance. Knowing I have to and hating it at the same time, I surge forward and break through her innocence. Prolonging it would’ve only increased the pain.
Soon we’re moving in unison, our heartbeats synchronizing up, and our eyes wide open as we stare at each other in wonder. As if we needed that final connection, our climaxes rise within us and we fall apart together.
“I can’t believe we get to do that our whole lives,” Lily says on a pant as we lay there. I crack up, loving that I never know what will come out of her mouth.