Page 163 of Shameless Game

Tears won’t stop filling my eyes. “Yes.” I can see it, too.

Tenderly, he murmurs, his beard tickling my flesh. “We’ll have a girl who loves books, and then we’ll have a boy who loves football. Two boys, actually.”

I turn, nuzzling his nose. “Or the other way around.”

“Sorry.” His eyes sparkle, searching mine. “I forgot my feminism.”

“You’re a hot alpha male with a big dick and a sexy smile. Feminism says I have to forgive you.”

He laughs. “Not in the books I read.”

“And since you read books by Virginia Woolf and Toni Morrison, too, my feminism says I have to give you really hot, kinky sex every single night.”

“It doesn’t take hot, kinky sex for us to make lots of bookish babies.”

“It does if you’re making babies with me.”

Laughter fills our kiss. I taste the salt on our lips, too. The happy tears we shed for Colt.

Something about this moment makes Beau cup my cheeks, and I cup his back, loving his whiskers in my grasp. It deepens our kiss, our hearts beating together, our breath intertwined like our connection.

It takes me full circle, back to the night Beau showed up at my dorm. When he had a busted lip and a broken heart over Colt. I could feel his love, wanting to take away his pain. And we wanted to kiss, too. We wanted to share everything together, but we couldn’t.

We waited until now.

“Marry me,” Beau sighs into our kiss. “Marry me, Blair Monroe.”

The sweet shock stops my heart. I pull back, searching his deep blue eyes. I can’t believe my ears. Or my luck.

“Is this a prank?”

“Never.” He won’t let go of my face. “I’ll do it right one day. I’ll surprise you with a huge ring and everything, I promise. But I can’t sit here and see Colt with his son and not see every day of my future with you and him and our kids, too. It’s all I want now. More than the Super Bowl.”

“Such goddamn blasphemy.” I gently smile. “I’m telling Coach you said it.”

“Go ahead.” He pecks my lips. “It’s the truth. I’m not going to win the Super Bowl for myself. I’ll win it with Colt for every kid like us in school. For every closeted guy in a locker room. For every lonely college athlete who’s not as lucky as I was.” His thumb brushes my cheek. “Because I loved Blair Monroe. I survived hell because she made my life heaven when she was around.”

I’m so proud. I’m so in love, too, I have to prank and pout, “But you said I was the pain in your ass who made your life hell. You said I was the best at it.”

“You are, baby.” His smiling lips seek mine. They’re soft, kissing and vowing, “You’re my heaven and hell forever.”

“So, you want me to be your wife, your WAG?”

“Yep.”

“You want me to wear an obnoxiously massive diamond ring, size five by the way, on my finger. It’ll be so big, twelve carats to be exact, that I’ll have to do bicep curls to pick my nose with my left finger?”

His deep laugh is so sexy. “Yep.”

“You want me to decorate our house any way I want, as well as our vacation home in Key West?”

“Key West?”

“Yeah. Where Hemingway lived. I have a love-hate relationship with him.”

“Yes, Kitten. We can buy a house in Key West.”

“And you want me to be Mrs. Beau Bronson?”

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