Page 50 of Her Football Star Ex

Or the last time we stayed up late talking because we didn’t want to stop.

“Were you thinking about what happened at your house this morning?” he asked when I didn’t say anything, his tone serious.

“No,” I said. Somehow I’d been able to push that to the recesses of my mind this past hour.

“Then are you thinking about work?” he asked. “Do you have another big case coming up?”

Was he seriously just going to guess until he figured it out?

I already knew the answer to that question.

Yes. Yes, he would. Because this was Vincent Lake and he was one of the most persistent people I knew.

So I lifted my gaze up to his face and said, “I wasn’t thinking about work.” But at this angle, with us standing so close to each other and with our arms still around each other’s waists, I was right back to thinking about kissing him again.

His gaze flicked down to my lips for a split second before returning to my eyes.

Had he just thought about kissing me, too?

That couldn’t be good.

Could it?

He cleared his throat. “I can keep guessing all night if you want me to.”

I bet he could.

I focused on his Adam’s apple and said, “Don’t take this in a weird way or anything, but I was trying to remember the last time we kissed.” I let my eyes flicker up to meet his. “Because I can’t remember it.”

His eyes widened, and I knew I’d caught him by surprise. But he seemed to recover quickly enough and said, “Why are you thinking about that?”

“I don’t know.” I lifted a shoulder, my cheeks blooming with heat. “It just came to my mind.”

“Well…” He frowned and seemed to mull over it. “It might have been when I first got home from that last game before you kicked me out.”

“See, and I wondered if it was before you left.”

“It’s probably one of those.” He shrugged.

I nodded. “But isn’t that kind of sad? That we can’t even remember it?” I asked. “Almost four years of marriage and we can’t remember.”

He pursed his lips together. “I think it’s pretty normal.” His thumbs traced a line along the center of my back. “You just get in the routine of things and don’t think as much about them.”

I guess. But if I was going to never kiss again the first guy I’d ever given my heart and soul to, I wanted to at least end with something memorable.

“You’re thinking about something again,” he said, as if he could read my mind. “What’s going through that genius mind of yours?”

“Promise you won’t make fun of me or get all weirded out?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.” I sighed. “I was just thinking about how lame it is to end things the way we did and how I want a redo.”

He pulled his head back and sputtered, as if my words had made him choke on something.

And that was when I realized how I had sounded. “I didn’t mean I wanted a redo right now.” I shook my head. “Like, I don’t think we should kiss right now or anything. I just meant that I wish I could go back in time or something and redo our last kiss, and somehow let myself know ahead of time that it would be the last so I would remember it better.”

Just stop talking, Emerson!

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