Page 31 of My Pucking Valentine

“There might be reporters and people outside. Ignore them. Stay close to me, and we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs against my mouth, then he lifts his head, his eyes wide as if something has just popped into his mind.

“The ring,” he blurts.

My lips curve up into a smile as I reach into the pocket of my oversized coat and pull out the little box he sent to the apartment earlier. I hold it out and let him slip it from my fingers. Then, right in the middle of the hallway of the hockey arena, Luke sinks down to one knee.

“I should have never kept you a secret. You were more than a hookup. You were always just mine. Maybe I wanted to keep you to myself instead of sharing you with the world. Maybe I wasn’t ready to admit how I truly felt for you. Maybe I’m just a fucking asshole. But I’m glad that everything is out. I love you, Clara, and I want you to be mine—forever. Not just for the night.”

He slides the ring onto my finger. The weight of the large oval-cut diamond is welcome and foreign all at the same time. Glancing down at the gem, I’m unable to hold back my smile. It consumes my entire being.

I’m engaged.

It’s real.

Luke stands, his fingers sliding along my jaw as he cups my cheek. Sucking in a breath, I hold it as his lips touch mine. His tongue slips inside and swirls around as he tastes me before he lifts his head, and his eyes search mine.

“Together,” he rasps.

“Together,” I confirm.

He takes a step backward, laces his fingers with mine, andtogether,we walk out of the arena. There are flashes of lights, shouts, and people everywhere. He wasn’t kidding when he said that there would be reporters and people outside.

They are everywhere and loud. I can’t even make out one person’s voice, let alone their questions. Dipping my chin, I drop my head and look down at my feet as I attempt to keep up with Luke’s long gait.

Only when the voices fade away do I chance looking up.

Luke stops in front of his car, his concerned gaze searching mine. “You good?” he asks.

Am I good?

No, I’m not good. That was scary, but I’m not good.

I’m fantastic.

Luke had my back, my hand, and my heart the entire scary walk from the arena to the car. I’m better than good. I’m the best I’ve ever been.

I’m happy and whole.

TWENTY-EIGHT

LUKE

For the firsttime in the almost year we’ve been seeing one another, I bring Clara home to my place. Eli isn’t here tonight. He found someone at the bar to go home with, but I couldn’t take Clara back to her place.

This is a new beginning for us. We’re engaged, we’re out in the open, we are together, and it needed to be done right—or as right as possible. After opening the front door, I stand to the side and let her walk into the house.

I take her coat and set it on the back of the sofa before I turn to face her. “It’s a small place. Eli has the basement, but the upper level is mine. We do share the kitchen,” I announce.

“It’s perfect,” Clara whispers.

I watch as she takes everything in. It’s far from perfect, but I like that she says that because I’m about to add something else to her plate. Another question that I hope her answer is yes to. Or maybe I’m not even going to ask.

“I’m glad you like it so far because you’re moving in with me.”

Her eyes widen as she swings her gaze around to meet mine. “Move in with you?”

“Move in with me,” I confirm. “I’m done fucking around, and when a man is done, he’s ready for everything.”

I watch as she stares at me, no doubt in shock. We’ve spent the past year being fuck buddies, hiding everything about us from the world. I’m one-hundred-percent done with that shit.

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