Page 207 of Falling Offsides

Court’s lips are soft, a stark contrast to my rough, bitten one, chapped from all the time on the ice. She tastes like mint gum and tears…

When did she start crying?

Her fingers dig into my jersey, twisting the sweat-soaked fabric, pulling me closer, grounding us both in this perfect, chaotic moment

"You did it, baby," she whispers against my lips, breathless and beautiful. Her eyes are wide, glittering with unshed tears. "Auguste, you really?—"

"No," I say, cupping her face in both hands. Court’s skin is warm under my calloused palms, as I correct her, "Wedid it. All of this? And none of it means anything if you're not in it with me."

Tears are welling in her eyes now, soft and shining under the arena lights. One spills over, tracking down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb.

"You have no idea how proud I am of you," she says, voice breaking on the last word.

I reach down, into the collar of my jersey and yank the thin gold chain with the heart tag she gave me and the ring I picked out for her off my neck. I don't take my eyes off her.

"You think that was the biggest moment of my life?" I ask, pointing my thumb over my shoulder. "It wasn’t."

I open my palm where the tag and the sapphire and diamond princess cut ring are nestled.

“Oh—” Court’s breath catches, a tiny gasp that I feel more than hear in the roaring chaos around us.

I drop to one knee and her hand flies to her chest, pressing against her heart like she's trying to keep it from escaping. "Auguste..."

I look up at her, this woman who crashed into my life and rearranged everything I thought I knew about myself. She made me a real man. Taught me the true meaning of unconditional love with her kindness and forgiveness, her empathy and belief.

"This, Courtney Elouise Nilsson, is the biggest moment of my life. You are the one thing I can’t live without. My soul belongs to yours."

Her hand is shaking when she reaches down to touch my face. Tears are falling freely now. So precious. So beautiful.

"So please," I say, holding the ring out. "Make me the happiest, most undeserving bastard alive. Marry me, Princess. Let me dance with you every day until we’re too old to move. Let me be your sun. The one that you rise to and the one to put you to bed. Marry me… please?"

She's sobbing. Laughing. Both at once, her whole body trembling with it.

"Jesus Christ," she whispers, shaking her head like she can't believe what she's about to say. "Yes. Yes, Auguste."

I slip the ring on her finger, watching it slide home. Where it belongs, the same way that I belong to her. That she is my home.

She's everything.

My win.

My legacy.

My forever.

ONE YEAR LATER

The deck of the yacht glows like a dream beneath the strands of soft, golden lights. The tartness of champagne hangs in the air along with the brine in the breeze.

With her hand in mine, everything else fades.

Courtney’s laugh is soft and breathy even before we dance. Her skin is flushed from our day in the sun. It’s been so perfect and she is a goddamn dream inthativory satin dress from DC. The one I bought with every intention of tearing it off her.

Court looks every bit the sultry Princess with the off-shoulder puffy sleeves, flouncy and delicate in contrast to the sexy low back that just covers the seam of her ass. It clings to her like a promise and flows like a fucking fairytale.

My wife.

Mrs. Broussard.