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CHARLOTTE

“While I’m all for you nailing down that rich, hot piece of ass,” Sage says, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window of our Vegas hotel suite, “this is still insane.”

“I’m totally down with insane if it means an all-expenses trip to Vegas,” Andi says, plopping onto one of four couches with an open bottle of wine in her hand. Noah convinced me to come to his game with the promise of a simple elopement, but as I was about to leave for the airport, a party bus showed up with all our friends inside. “Thank your fiancé for me.” A thrill runs through me. Fiancé.

“You sure it has nothing to do with a certain Tampa Bay defensive lineman being in the same city?” I tease.

“Would you give the Knox of it all a rest please?” she says with a warning glare that feels more chocolate lab than pitbull. “Besides, you’re way off base.”

“I’m just saying.” I shrug. “He, too, is a hot, rich piece of ass.”

“He’s much more than that,” Andi says, and I can’t fight the grin that bursts free.

“Mm-hmm,” Stella hums.

“Whatever,” Andi says before taking a sip straight from the bottle.

“Char’s gonna be a hot, rich piece of ass too after this wedding,” Sophia says, pencil flying across her little We’re All Mad Here sketchbook Elijah got her for her birthday last year.

“How are there even still pages left in that thing?” I ask.

Sophia looks up with a smirk. “Elijah gets me a replacement every time one’s full.”

“There’re, like, fourteen of them in our living room bookshelf alone,” Abbs says. “By the way, Char, Theo left a little gift for you in the bathroom. Something to wear for the game.”

“Shouldn’t I wear Noah’s jersey?” I ask, standing, thinking of the one I stashed in my bag.

“Forget the jersey,” Stella says, with the wave of her hand. “It’s your bachelorette night! Get glam!”

I roll my eyes. “Fine!”

The girls and I rush to the large ensuite bathroom, and I discover a white fitted short glitter maternity dress with feathers at the bottom. After putting it on, especially with the bump, I look hot. Noah’s going to love this.

“Now, are you ready for a little Married Mischief List?” Andi asks, winking at Stella.

My eyes light up. “I get to be involved this time?!”

“It’s your list, baby cakes,” Andi says, and I snatch it from her hands.

“No way.” I laugh, handing it back to her. “Noah would kill me if I did half of these.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“Sorry, Andikins,” I say. “That list will have to be all you and the others.”

“Boo!”

“I’m sure you could find someone to join you on that fun,” I say with a cocked brow.

“Don’t start again.” She narrows her eyes.

“We’ve gotta leave in twenty!” Sophia calls from the living room.

“I just have to freshen up a bit,” I say, and Andi leaves me in the bathroom.

My phone buzzes.

Noah

How’s my (almost) wife?

Me

Fantastic

This hotel room is insane

Noah

Only the best for my bride to be

Me

My god you’re so cheesy

Noah

Fun fact: There’s over 1800 types of cheese

Me

And your Dad jokes are cheesier than all of them combined

Noah

I’ve gotta get my practice in with little Brie coming soon.

Me

You did not name our baby after a type of cheese.

Noah

Brie Caruso.

It has such a gouda vibe

Me

TRY AGAIN

Noah

Fine, then little Ella

Me

Good. We’re back to Gabriella

Noah

What are you talking about?

Ella is short for Mozzarella of course

Although Gabriella does contain Brie and Ella.

I knew i liked that name

Me

And what would we have done if it was a boy?

Noah

Cam(embert) Caruso

Me

If you keep naming this child after cheese, our marriage may not recover

Noah

You gouda be kidding me??? We haven’t even made it down the aisle

Me

the lactose intolerance is awakening

Noah

Don’t worry dairy free cheese is brie-licious

Me

You’re making me curdle

Noah

Hah! I’ve converted you! A cheese joke!

Me

It wasn’t that grate

Noah

I can die a happy man

Me

Well you can’t die yet, but the girls think you might when you see what I’m wearing tonight.

Noah

I’d rather see it off you.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I check the time. We still have fifteen minutes. I consider the perfect white lingerie set I’m wearing under this. It really would be a shame not to document it… Boudoir shoots are pretty common before your wedding.

A thrill runs through my veins, and I shimmy off the dress. In the mirror, my eyes fall to my large bump, and I absentmindedly place a hand over it. My back aches from the extra front weight, but when I think about what’s inside there, I can’t help but smile.

Another text pops in.

Noah

I’ve gotta put my phone in my locker soon, so if you’re busy, I love you, baby.

I snap a few photos, picking the best one out of urgency and hit send.

Noah

Soffione mio, my god, what are you trying to do to me?

Me

That bad?

Noah

You look downright fuckable.

Now all I’ll think of when I see you at the game is what you’re wearing under my jersey

Me

I won’t be wearing your jersey.

Noah

Why the hell not?

Me

See you soon

Noah

You’re going to be in trouble later.

Me

Too bad we left the ropes back home. Love you honey xox

* * *

“I think these are our seats?” I say as our rowdy group makes it to the front row. We met the boys—Theo, Elijah, and Julian—at the hotel and got delivered to the game on a party bus. Noah really went all out, and he’s not even able to enjoy it.

The row is empty except for one seat, and the man stands up and turns, unsurprised to see us. My face must show the opposite because he laughs.

“I’m not here as CBU staff,” Coach Porter says, hands up, addressing his football players more than me.

“Then why are you here?” Andi asks, tone sharp.

“It’s fine,” I whisper at her. “The more the merrier.”

“I always come to Knox’s away games when I can swing it,” he says, addressing Andi.

“Of course you do,” she says, with a tight smile.

My eyes bounce between them, and I lean over, whispering in her ear, “Looks like Coach Buzzkill might ruin those Knox shenanigans for you.”

“Hmph,” she huffs. “We’ll see about that.”

We all settle in our seats, Sophia on one side and Stella on the other. Somehow Andi ends up stuck next to Coach Buzzkill and I shoot her an apologetic look, which she doesn’t even register because they’re already in some heated debate.

Poor girl.

Music starts playing, pulling my attention to the field, and the players run out from the tunnel. My eyes scan the crowd of turquoise jerseys till they find number thirteen.

I can’t help the dopey smile that comes across my face when my future husband, love of my absolute life, jogs onto the field. I can’t see his eyes, but his helmet is pointed towards the crowd, surely searching. When he finally lands on our group, he taps his helmet’s face mask and “throws it” toward me.

My heart swells as I “catch it,” tapping my belly, then press my fingers to my lips and send a kiss his way.

That must have pleased him because he has an extra pep in his step as he files onto the sidelines with his teammates. A text pops in, and I try to ignore it. My phone goes off again, and I glare down at it.

Jonathan

Your plan better work.

Me

It will.

Unfortunately, I had to unblock him so we could communicate about the blackmail of it all. I shove my phone back in my purse. Nothing from the situation at home will pop my happy bubble this weekend.

The reasons we’re getting married might be complex, but I’m still going to enjoy the hell out of it.

The game goes by in a blur till we’re down to the final two minutes in the fourth quarter. The score is 24-24, and all the excitement and screaming is beginning to overwhelm me. Noah got two sideline passes for the second half, so Theo and I are standing near his team’s benches, and I have a hand on my belly, catching my breath. She’s been kicking like crazy, and I wonder if she’s clapping for Daddy too.

A warm feeling spreads across my chest. I’ve fought his role in our life for so long, and being here, his ring on my finger and just a day away from taking his last name, I feel so at peace.

The roaring stadium brings me back to the anxious present. We’re on defense, and Noah’s talking intently with the coaches. I’m grateful he can’t see how worn out I am.

After all, he’s the one on the field running his ass off and getting slammed by men four times my size.

Noah and the offensive line run back on the field, and I cheer like we’re watching a championship game. I can rest later.

The teams set up on the line of scrimmage, and I anxiously toy with the gold band around my finger. The stadium grows eerily quiet.

A muffled “Down, set, hike!’ is called, and within seconds, Noah’s thrown the ball through the air, their running back catching it effortlessly and bolting into the end zone.

“ Touchdownnnnnnnnnnnnnn, Baracudddassssss!” the announcer shouts, and I spring off the ground with a scream, exhaustion forgotten. Theo and I double high-five. Vegas fans throw their hats and boo, but we don’t care. My eyes scan the field to see number thirteen heading my way, and excitement rushes through me as he rips off his helmet. Our matching grins meet, his eyes sparkling with pride, hair wet with sweat, and he rushes to me, sweeping me carefully in his arms.

He crashes his lips to mine in a searing, claiming kiss. If anyone was wondering his relationship status, it was made clear tonight.

We may not have won the Super Bowl, but I’m still getting a ring.