Page 130 of Perfectly Grumpy

He leans forward, taking my hand across the table. “Because I saw how happy she makes you. The way your eyes light up when you hold her. Even if you’re in Kansas City, I wanted you to have a piece of home—someone to be there when I couldn’t.”

I pause, then take a deep breath, pulling my hand away slightly. “Tate, about Kansas City?—”

“It’s okay if you take the job,” he says before I can get the words out. “If you think long distance won’t work, at least let me try to prove that it can.”

“No, it’s not that.” I shake my head. “I’mnottaking the job.”

“You’re not?” he says, clearly surprised.

I stroke Annie’s fur. “It felt wrong the moment I got there. Sully’s Beach is my home. This team is my family. My sister is here. But that doesn’t mean I want to influence your decision.”

He tilts his head and frowns.

“I overheard what Coach Jenkins said,” I say. “I don’t want you turning anything down just because I’m staying. I don’t want to be some kind of…obligation.”

He nods slowly. “I have an answer about Seattle, but I want to tell you properly. And you wouldneverbe an obligation. This moment is about you coming home to me. Can you trust me for just a little longer?” His gaze holds mine, and something in his expression tells me to hear him out.

“This past week, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he says, taking my hand again, his fingers brushing lightly across my palm before sliding to my wrist. He traces a now-familiar path along my freckles, like he’s memorizing the shape of me all over again.

“And that’s because I’ve paid attention to everything about you—not because I had to, but because I wanted to. Every habit, every expression, every secret thing that makes you…you.” He lifts his gaze to mine. “I know you spin your mom’s ring when you’re nervous. I know you have eight freckles on your arm that make a constellation when I connect them. I’ve seen how you melt the second Annie looks at you. And when I smile, you try really hard not to look at my dimples, but you always do.”

“It’s that obvious?” I laugh, even though I know it’s true.

His mouth curves into that maddening, glorious smile. “You’re the one who said it’s an asset. I’m just smart enough to use it on you.” He winks, then pushes the box on the table toward me. “Open this.”

I lift the lid tentatively, a little nervous about what I’ll find inside. Nestled in white tissue paper is a jersey, but not the Kansas City one I half expected. It’s a Crushers jersey with Tate’s number across the back.

“But how did you know I wasn’t going to Kansas City?” I say with a frown.

“I didn’t,” he says matter-of-factly. “So I made the logical decision and bought both.” He looks down at the jersey, then back at me with something almost shy in his expression. “Will you wear it for me? I’d love to see you in it at the community exhibition game next week.”

And suddenly, it’s not just a jersey. It’s him offering me a place in his world. A statement that even if we’re still figuring things out, he wants me in it with him.

I lift a brow, unsure if he’s really ready to announce it to the worldofficially. “Your fan club is going to be devastated.”

“Let them be,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “Because I’m with you now. And if someone asks why you’re wearing my number, tell them it’s because you’re mine, and I’m never walking away.”

I get up from my seat, settling Annie on the floor, and slide into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. I press a gentle kiss to his cheekbone, then trail slowly along his jaw, every kiss a silent thank-you for this moment, for choosing me. When I finally reach his mouth, I linger there, tasting the sweetness of cinnamon on his lips. And when we finish, he rests his forehead against mine and murmurs, “This is the best welcome home gift of all. But you forgot one more thing in the box.”

Under the jersey, wrapped in tissue paper, is a stack of papers.

I carefully unwrap it, and my breath catches.

It’s the first printed page of his book—and my name is in the dedication.

To Sunny, who taught me that the best stories are the ones you choose to live with someone you love.

My eyes burn as I stare at the words. This man who guards his privacy like a secret wrote my name in his book for the whole world to see.

“You dedicated it to me?” I whisper, astonished.

“I did. Because thanks to you, I finished it. And I finally know how it ends—with us writing our own story together.”

FORTY-FOUR

lauren

It’s the night of the summer community exhibition game, and rumors have been swirling all week about a big announcement. It can’t be Tate who's leaving. And yet, he hasn’t told me for sure what he’s decided about Seattle. I’ve been rereading his book, trying to distract myself from the uncertainty. Thorne and Kyara got their perfect happy ending (and yes, I cried tears of joy reading that final chapter), but what about us?

---