Page 149 of Almost Ravaged

Fuck my traitorous body.

Mercer notices.

Sensing I need the extra support, he circles my waist, the hold strong and sure. His fancy coat once again shields the gesture. I flutter my eyes closed, embarrassed by my outburst, then allow myself a few deep breaths before I meet his gaze.

“I fucked that woman, yes,” he says, his face hard, his jaw pulsing. “I’ve fucked lots of men and women in my time. What I haven’t done, ever? Is call someone my girlfriend. Or boyfriend. I’ve never declared any sort of relationship status with another person. But that’s how deep I’m in this. I want to be with you and only you. Strike the ideas swirling around in that brilliant head.” He presses his thumb into the divot of my chin. “For as long as you’ll have me, with or without Noah by our side, for me, there will be only you.”

I’m breathless. Speechless. Bowled over by his declaration. Yet somehow calm and fortified. Every word he spoke was true. I can feel the sincerity deep in my bones.

“Mercer…”

I sigh, at a loss for words.

The way he looks at me makes me feel so wanted. The way he talks to me makes me feel supremely valued and seen.

Of course I believe him.

I want this just as much as he does.

There’s no way I can put into words just how much he means to me. So I pop up on my toes and kiss him on the mouth.

It’s a quick kiss, longer than a peck, but not so long we get carried away. “Thank you for being so direct,” I say when I pull back. “And never making me question where we stand.”

He tightens his grip on my hand. “Your heart’s safe with me, Sawyer.”

I press my cheek against the soft wool of his coat, inhaling deeply. “I know.”

I believe him with everything I am.

My heart is safe. He wants me, in all ways.

When an announcement sounds over the loudspeaker—thirty minutes until the puck drops—he pulls back slowly. “We’re good?”

“So good,” I promise. Then, before I lose my nerve and the moment passes completely, I inhale a fortifying breath and pull my shoulders back. “I’ve never called anyone my boyfriend, or girlfriend, either.”

His understanding registers immediately, a sly smile blooming on his face. If he’s going to go around telling people I’m his girlfriend, then I want him to know me on a deeper level.

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” he murmurs.

That we really are.

Several chanting, shirtless students hoot and holler as they pass us on the way to the ticket counter.

“We have assigned seating, yes?” Mercer hedges.

“Yes.” I dig the tickets out of my pocket.

Atty hooked me up with a pair of season tickets in row ten, right behind the goal. It’s a major upgrade from the student section.

“I’ll grab snacks,” he says. “Meet you in there?”

We part ways, me heading to the bathroom and Mercer to the snack counter, as if being in a relationship is the most natural thing in the world.

I grin at this new development, forcing myself to take calm, slow steps instead of skipping down the hall.

Chapter fifty-three

Tytus