Blind Pass (Carolina Comets)

A warm body slides onto the stool next to me, signaling to the bartender for a drink. “I’ll take two shots each of Jose and Jack.”

“Coming right up,” the bartender says, turning to pour the shots.

He’s only gone a minute or two, then he’s placing the shots in front of the person next to me.

They slide a shot of each my way.

“Want to hear a love story?”

“I’m not really one for romance, but I’ll bite.”

She rests her elbow on the bar top, taking a shot glass in her hand. “I met this guy last year. He was the best friend of my best friend’s boyfriend. If that’s not confusing, I don’t know what is. Anyway, I guess we became…allies of sorts. We weren’t really friends, but we weren’t not friends either. We were shoved into the same group activities whenever anyone could coax him out of his big, dark castle. Oh, he has a castle, by the way. How cool is that?”

“I think a big, dark castle sounds nice.”

“Hmm. Maybe you should meet my friend, then. You’d probably get along.” She waves her hand. “So anyway, this past summer, we all took a vacation to Las Vegas. A little fun, a little gambling, and some drinking. Lots and lots of drinking. Too much of it for certain. Then, like a total Prince Charming swooping in to save the day, guess who offers to take care of me?”

“Oh wait, don’t tell me—it’s the best friend of the best friend’s boyfriend?”

“Yes!” She slaps the bar top. “What are the freakin’ odds?”

“I’d say pretty good considering he was forced to take care of you. He did not choose it.”

She narrows her eyes. “Anyway. He’s doing the prince thing, taking care of me, making sure I don’t choke on my own vomit. You know, the usual.”

“He sounds like a really good dude.”

“He was. But in a crazy twist of events, it was suddenly me, the princess, taking care of the prince. You see, he had his heart broken, and he needed it mended. So being the selfless soul I am, I stepped up.”

“How kind of you.”

“Right? I took him out dancing and drinking and gave him a magical night he’ll never forget.”

“Oh, no. You gave him herpes, didn’t you?”

The look she gives me is murderous. “No. Better. I gave him a ring. Or he gave me a ring. I really can’t remember because I was shit-faced.”

“Wait. I thought you were taking care of the prince?”

“At that point, we were taking care of each other.”

“Okay, okay. So, what happens next?”

“Well, in the wee hours of the not-so-morning, we wake up to find ourselves suddenly hitched and the evidence sprinkled all over social media.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“It was.” She shudders. “See, the prince was this famous sports dude.”

“Famous sports dude?”

“Yep. He literally played with his stick for a living.”

I try not to choke on my beer.

“So, we did what any smart, quick-thinking pair would do—we faked it. We’re talking move in together, pretend to be in love, fake it.”

“And it worked? This ruse of yours?”

“Oh, certainly. Nobody was the wiser.”

“Definitely not a single soul. You two sound like incredible actors.”

“The best there ever was.”

“What happened next?”

“Well, the dark moment.”

“Dark moment?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “You know, the big sad scene where everyone gets their heart broken and nothing feels like it’s ever going to be right again.”

“Ah. Yes. I am familiar with that.”

“Well, it hit them hard.”

“This is starting to sound less and less like a love story.”

“That’s because I’m not finished and you keep interrupting me, Rhodes.”

I tuck my lips together, gesturing for her to continue.

She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Anyway, then…ugh. No, no, never mind. You totally ruined it with all your talking!” She turns to me, daggers in her eyes.

“I ruined it with all my talking?”

“Yes! I was doing this super cute fairy-tale-story thing because I love fairy tales and then at the end I was going to be all I love you, Adrian Rhodes and you were going to be all”—she puffs her chest out, dropping her voice low—“I love you too, baby. And then we were going to make out like fools in public and live happily ever after.”

“Okay, one, I do not sound like that.”

“Oh, you totally do. All deep and growly. It’s like—”

I kiss her.

I kiss her to shut her up and I kiss her because I can’t stand not kissing her for another second.

It’s a slow, languid kiss. Soft, gentle, and hopefully full of all the things I want to say to her.

She smiles against me when I pull away.

“Two,” I continue, “I’m going to need to hear you say it again.”

“All deep and growly like—”

“No. The other part.”

“Oh, the part where I say I love you?” I nod, and she brushes her lips against mine. “I love you, Adrian Rhodes.”

“Yeah?”

She nods. “So much.”

I sigh, feeling whole for the first time in a long time. “Good. Because I love you too.”

“Yeah?”

“So much.”

I kiss her again.

And again.

And again.

In fact, I don’t stop kissing her until she’s literally in my lap and we’re making a scene.

“We should stop.”

“We should.”

But we don’t.

Not until the owner of the bar comes over and taps us on the shoulder do we finally pull apart.

Ryan slips back onto her stool, and I dutifully stay on mine.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, keeping my hand on her leg.

Those lips that I can’t seem to get enough of pull into a frown. “I know.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“I know that too.”

I laugh. “God, I missed your smart mouth.”

“I know that too.” She winks, then sobers up quickly. “I won’t lie, I’m still upset with you. It hurt to find out like I did. I wish you could have been honest with me. I thought…” She exhales shakily. “I thought we meant more than that to each other. I thought I deserved your honesty.”

“We did. You did. You do. It was a stupid decision on my part, one made by a scared, foolish man.”

“Scared?”

I gulp back the lump in my throat. “Of losing you. Of you realizing that you could do so much better than me.”

She shakes her head. “When are you going to understand that you’re enough, Rhodes?”

She takes my face in her hands, her thumb skating over my scar. I lean into her touch, needing it because it’s been far too fucking long.

“You are enough,” she says, “and I love you just the way you are.”

I swallow, nodding. “I believe you.”

She presses her lips to mine once more but this time it’s softer. Slower. And I taste the truth of her words in her kiss.

When she pulls back, she says, “Did you mean what you said? During the postgame junket?”

“Which part? I said a lot. Mostly blocked it out.”

“About keeping promises.”

“Every fucking word.”

“Good.” She grins, lifting her shot glass. “To mistakes.”

I lift mine too. “And promises.”

We toss the shots back, and I wipe my hand across my mouth.

“So, you never did tell me how that story ended.”

“Oh, that?” She grins. “It looks like it’s still being written, but I’m predicting a happily ever after.”

“I’m predicting you’re right…wife.”