Page 141 of It's Always Us

He brushes a strand of hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear. “Yeah. I have some thoughts about that.”

I raise an eyebrow and then lower that sucker right back down when a burning sensation tears over my skin.

Mark runs his finger over the bandage. “Hey, be careful.” He takes my hand and links his fingers with mine, bringing them to his chest. “We have a lot to talk about, but I want you to know how sorry I am for letting you come back here alone. I was mad . . . no, I was furious with myself for never being here. I should’ve been here.”

“Mark, that’s not what I wanted. I wanted you to be free. That’s it. I would’ve done anything.”

He presses my hand flat to his chest. “You did.” He closes his eyes. “But now I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care. If that means football is over, then—”

“No.” I try to sit up, but it takes me too stinking long, so I settle for resting precariously on an elbow. “No. We need to get Bree permanently, but you have to keep playing. We didn’t go through all of this for you to quit.”

Mark helps me sit up, and I reach for him, pulling his head to mine. Somehow, his giving up football makes it feel like both of us are losing everything we suffered for.

“Please. I want to go with you. I want to have these babies and a room for them that’s decorated and just right. I want to crawl in bed with you each night and wake up with you each morning in our own house. I want to fix up the Bronco and figure out what old thing I’ll make new next.”

I take a breath before my guts come spilling out my eyes, but it’s difficult. “And I want to sit in the stands and watch you do what you were born to do. I want to watch you play and wait for you when the game is over and be there like I never was.”

Saying it out loud feels so incredibly self-centered. “Please. Tell me we’ll do that . . . somehow.”

His finger comes under my chin, tipping it up to look at him. “I will do everything I possibly can. I promise.” He shakes his head. “But I won’t leave. Lex, I won’t.” One tear slips out, and he pushes it away. “Ok?”

I nod, not wanting to accept it.

His lips press to mine quick and soft. “Now, while we’re waiting to sort through all the shit that’s flung off the fan, I have some things to do.”

I wrap my arms around his middle, holding him to me. “Yeah?”

“First, I need to know if you have a preference on the kind of truck we get. I’m calling a dealer today.”

I lift my head. “Really. You’ll just call them and put in an order.”

He grins. “Baby, in case you’re not aware, I’ve made millions. You’re my wife without a prenup, so if you want to call and place the order to your specifications, I’m down with that. I’ll give you my credit card.”

I laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“No, what’s ridiculous is that old beater lasted this long.”

I push him away. “Beater? She was in mint condition.”

He stands. “Not anymore. So, one of us is calling, you decide. Then, I’m calling my trainer to find a private gym and getting his ass out here. While that’s happening, I was thinking about talking to a realtor.”

I frown, but . . .Ouch.“A realtor?”

“Yeah. I told Cal I’m shacking up with you guys, but let’s be real. We need our own space that’s not over your Grandpa’s room.”

“You’re just going to buy a house?”

One shoulder shrugs as he scrolls his phone. “Maybe. Or maybe rent. I don’t know. We’ll see what’s out there.”

“And then what happens if you get picked up by a team?”

His fingers stop moving, and his eyes peek out from under his long, dark eyelashes. “I’m not thinking about that.”

“Mark, Bree is just getting settled. We can’t . . . ” I pause, not wanting to crush his enthusiasm. “I think we should start with you meeting her. She’ll need time to wrap her head around this. Her whole world has been ripped apart.”

His stance softens, and he moves closer to me. “Ok. When are we doing the big introduction?”

“She’s at school. I thought I’d pick her up, and then we can talk to her.”

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