Page 37 of Hockey Player Seeking Fan (Billionaires Seeking Wives Club #2)

Tyler

“I am so proud of you,” Erica says, squeezing my hand. “This is not the best start to a relationship, is it?”

“What do you mean?” I ask as I gaze at her.

“I just feel really bad about the fact that I didn’t see your game-winning point. I feel like if I were the perfect girlfriend, I would’ve seen it.”

“But that’s not what I’m looking for, Erica.

You don’t have to be the perfect girlfriend—or what you think is the perfect girlfriend,” I correct myself quickly.

“Maybe you’re the perfect girlfriend for me.

I love hockey, and I’m glad the Lightning won, but to be quite honest, I don’t care about hockey anymore.

I’m not invested in the game. I’m not invested in the team.

I’m glad we won, don’t get me wrong, but meeting you, finally getting to be with someone who sees me for something other than a hockey player…

I realize that this is not the life I want. ”

I take a breath, heart thudding. “You are who I want. And I want us to grow together and—well, this is going to seem really cheesy, but I’ve brought you back to my apartment because I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh my gosh, you want to make love again?” she says, grinning. “Is that your surprise? Is this the first time we’re going to do it in your bed?”

“I mean, I don’t mind if we do it in my bed,” I say, laughing. “But that’s not why you’re here.”

We enter my apartment, and she looks around. She pauses and makes a face.

“You can be honest,” I say, laughing.

“It’s not what I thought it would be,” she says slowly.

“What did you think it would be?”

“I don’t know. Homey. Bright. Colorful. You’re an artist. And this is… all gray, isn’t it? Black and gray. A black leather couch, gray curtains, gray rug, gray table, gray chairs…”

“Everything about this place is drab. Except now that you’re here, there’s color.”

I grab her hand and bring her into the dining room.

“I have something for you.”

Her jaw drops, and she starts panicking. “Oh, no. Look, I love you, Tyler. I really do, and I’m a romantic. But this is way too soon.”

“What?” I frown. “What are you talking about?”

“You can’t propose to me! I mean, I would love it if you proposed to me—maybe not today or tomorrow or even next week. But in six months, a year, after we’ve really dated…”

“I’m not proposing, you silly girl,” I laugh loudly. “Oh, I love you. How did you think I was proposing?”

I make her sit down at the table and then open the fridge and grab the bouquet of twelve roses.

“These are for you.”

Then I walk into my bedroom and come back out with a bag.

“I have a box of chocolates—because you’re so sweet.

I have some balloons to remind you that you’re delightful.

I have a necklace because you sparkle like diamonds.

I have a book of poetry because, frankly, I just think you would like it.

And I have a letter,” I say, holding up an envelope, “that I wrote for you. And I’d like to read it to you, if you don’t mind. ”

She nods slowly as she sniffs the roses. “Please, go ahead.”

I open the envelope, and I can feel all the emotions come rushing back—everything I felt when I wrote this letter.

To my dearest darling Erica,

There are nights when I lie alone in my bed, and all I can think about is the next day—what lies ahead, what’s to be.

And oftentimes, there’s no joy. There’s no excitement, because it’s a monotony of the same things: the gym, practice, dinner, the bar, unengaged flirting, calling my sister, checking my bank account… just being.

And then you came into my life.

And my nights looked so much different. I thought about your smile, your silky hair, the way your lips part when you’re excited, when you’re sad, when you’re mad.

The way your bright eyes light up in happiness when you see your friends and family.

The way they light up when you see me. The way your heart races when I kiss you and touch you and lick you and feel you.

The way you press the palm of your hand against my skin.

The way you squeeze my biceps. The way you suck my cock.

The way you just stare at me with big, wide, innocent eyes—eyes that love. Eyes that want to be loved.

The way you gave yourself to me.

The way you made me believe that I am a man worth loving. That I am a man who can love. That I am a man who is more than just a hockey player.

I love you more than all the stars in the sky. More than all the sand granules at the beach. More than every atom in the universe. I love you with a love so great that even God can feel its power.

And one day—one day, I want to marry you. One day, I want you to be the mother of my children. And I want them to feel the love that you bestow, because it is magnificent. It is all-consuming and loving, and I never want to let it go. I never want to let you go.

Erica Carrington, you are the light of my life.

There have been years where I’ve questioned who I am and where I’m going and if anyone really likes me for me. If they see me.

Some days, I didn’t even see myself. Some days I forgot who I was, what I wanted, what I needed, what I craved.

And you reminded me.

You reminded me that it’s okay to dream and to laugh and to float in the clouds and just hope.

I love you, Erica. And I give you these roses. I give you these chocolates. I give you this necklace. I give you this book. I give you this letter.

I give you my heart.

All because I want to show you that I am a man who will fight for you. I am a man who will love you. I am a man who will woo you. I am a man who is the epitome of what you’ve been searching for.

And I only hope that when you stare into my eyes and you see my heart, you know that I will always be here for you. I will always love you. I will never betray you. I will never look at another woman.

I want us to grow together.

I want us to be together.

And I have one last question for you.

She licks her lips and smiles. “Well, I know what it’s not going to be,” she says, and we both laugh.

“I want to marry you, but I’m not stupid enough to ask you right now, though if I thought you’d say yes, I would.”

“Really?” she says, looking surprised. “I thought I was the romantic one.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, Erica. For you do not always know what you see.”

“You’re right there. I never would’ve ever guessed that we’d be in this situation right now. So please, darling, don’t leave me standing here, waiting in suspense. What’s the last thing you have to say?”

“I want us to volunteer. I want us to volunteer with Habitat for Humanity. We can go out and build homes for people who are in need. We can go out and just help other people and still be together and maybe think about our purpose in life. Because even more than riches, we’ve been blessed with love.

And I just feel like you’ve opened something up in me.

The fact that you are yearning to give back, to help…

I realized that, sure, I was helping my family, but I haven’t really been helping anyone else.

And there’s this opportunity I’ve been given, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me. ”

I stare into her eyes.

“Maybe we can travel together, get a camper van, go around building houses for people, figure out who we are and who we want to be. How we can give back. What do you say?”

“I mean, it’s not as great as a proposal,” she giggles, “but I’d love to. I think it’s a really, really good idea. And I’ve obviously heard of Habitat for Humanity, and while I’ve never built a home, I’d love to do whatever I can to help people.

“I want to say one thing, if that’s okay.”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

“All my life I’ve kind of been this girl that I know people thought was silly and maybe unrealistic—wanting to meet my soulmate, wanting to fall in love, wanting to focus on something so perfect.

And every time I thought about it, I wasn’t really sure what it looked like.

It just looked like perfection. Maybe a big mansion and a white picket fence and a green lawn and a big kitchen and kids and a big fridge and friends and laughter and happiness and going to concerts and going to Disney and just… being happy.

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” she says, looking thoughtful for a moment.

“I just think there’s more to life. I just think there’s more to do.

And well… I feel like you’re not my soulmate because we’re attracted to each other.

You’re not my soulmate because you’re handsome or rich or funny or goofy or the millions of other reasons why I love you?—”

“Thank you,” I laugh.

“Yeah… what I meant to say is: you’re my soulmate because your heart is truly good. You care. I love that about you, and I always will. And thank you for the letter. Thank you for everything—the chocolates, the roses, the book of poetry, which we will read tonight.”

She stands up and gives me a kiss on the lips.

“I love you, Tyler Kane. And you are my soulmate. And I’ve won the bet. And you know what I want?”

“No. What do you want?”

“I just want to spend the rest of my life with you. I just want to be the woman who makes you happy.”

“And I just want to be the man who makes you happy.”

“I know,” she says, nodding slowly and touching the side of my face. “I can feel it in my very bones. You’re a good one. And I’m really lucky.” She grins. “I’m really, really lucky. And Wes is lucky. And I’m lucky. And I hope Miles finds the same thing.”

“Your brother?” I ask, surprised.

“Yeah. I feel like he’s going through something. He’s been really distracted the last couple of weeks, and I don’t know what it is. I haven’t wanted to pry, but maybe I should stick my nose in there and see what’s going on because I don’t want him to be the only Carrington that hasn’t found love.”

“You want us to set him up?”

“Oh, no,” she says, laughing and shaking her head. “That’s the last thing he would want. But maybe… behind the scenes, we can do something.”

“I like how you think.”

I pull her toward me and kiss her hard.

“But first, can we do something for us?”

“Of course, darling.”

I watch as she pulls up her top and drops it to the ground.

“And first things first—pleasure me,” she says, grinning as she licks her lips. “Pleasure me until I forget my own name. And then we can think of others.”

“Sounds like a plan to me, my darling. I love you.”

“I love you, too. And never forget that. Because I know I’m your heart—but you, Tyler Kane, are my heart, as well.”

Thank you for reading Hockey Player Seeking Fan.