Page 114 of Playoff

Rowan’s dad was annoyed about that, wanting to be able to walk her down the aisle. So then we decided to buy one of those package deals where it’s a Vegas wedding but with a few bells and whistles.

Except then Phoebe got wind of it—stupid me, thought she could keep a secret—and my mom said she’d never forgive me if she couldn’t be there. Which meant Phoebe was coming too. And my dad.

Everything snowballed from there.

Then, at Coach Vanek and Autumn’s wedding, the subject came up and suddenly our friends and teammates decided it needed to be a real wedding. Harper offered to let us have it in her backyard. Cheyenne found a couture gown from a couple of years ago that the designer was happy to get rid of—for free.Rowan’s dad insisted on paying for the caterers, and my parents even threw in money for the flowers.

It’s not because we can’t afford to pay for a wedding, we were just trying to be fiscally responsible. Instead, our friends and family forced us to want something we’d convinced ourselves we didn’t need.

And now, as I’m watching the girl I’ve always loved walk down the aisle on her father’s arm, my eyes suddenly feel a little scratchy.

She’s always been beautiful but she’s majestic today.

It’s hot out, but there are tents and fans going, keeping us cool.

Fuck.

Six months ago I couldn’t even dream of a day like today.

And now Rowan’s going to become my wife.

As far as I’m concerned, she already is.

She’s been mine since the second day of British Lit our sophomore year of high school.

“Hey, beautiful,” I whisper as her father stops in front of me.

“Hi.” Her eyes shine as she smiles.

“Be good to each other,” Mr. Taylor says quietly.

“We will,” I promise.

We say our vows, the minister tells us we can kiss, and now we’re being showered with birdseed.

“Congratulations!” We’re immediately surrounded, hugging, kissing and shaking hands.

It’s kind of nice.

We’d been planning on private but this works too.

I don’t care about the details.

Just the fact that we’re married makes me happy.

Sharing it with our friends—and my new fulltime teammates—makes it fun.

Finally making it legal with the woman I’ve loved most of my life is pretty damn special.

“How does it feel, Mrs. Taylor-Rourke?” I ask as we dance after we’d cut the cake and thrown the garter and bouquet.

“Amaze-balls.” She smiles up at me. “How do you feel?”

“Horny.” Just for fun, we decided no sex for the week leading up to the wedding. I had no idea how addicted to being inside of her I’ve become. I’ve been fighting an erection all night, which is a bit much, even for me.

“Slow your roll,” she says, laughing. “We have two full weeks in Hawaii to do nothing but swim, eat, and make love.”

“I’m very ready for the honeymoon.”

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