Page 161 of Pucking Strong

He heaves a sigh of relief and drops down next to me on the couch. “So good.”

I set my phone aside, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Now that we’ve crossed the barrier of intimate touch, casual touch just feels natural. Teddy must feel the same because he sinks against me, propping his feet up on the coffee table. Then he pulls my arm tighter around his neck, banding my forearm across his chest.

I kiss his brow. “Who were you talking to?”

“My sister.”

“Which one?”

He hums contentedly, brushing his fingers down my arm. “Shae. I called her. We had a good talk. Finally.”

“Finally?”

“Yeah, it was time I came clean.”

“About what?”

He laughs. “Like, everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah. You, me, this whole crazy situation.”

“I thought you told them what we did and why.”

“Yeah, but before I just told them the basics. This time I filled in the gaps. I told Shae everything. Like, down to the details of my shoes on our wedding day. It helped, you know? To finally get it all off my chest. I hated feeling like I was keeping secrets.”

“You felt like you were keeping secrets by not telling your sister the shoes you wore to our wedding?”

“Well, not secrets, I guess. But those details, yeah. By keeping everything quiet and rushing like we did, I denied my family a lot. I hurt them, Hen. I think I’m really only just now realizing how much I hurt them. Something Karro said tonight opened the wound fresh.”

“What did she say?”

He brushes his hand down my arm again. “She said Petra promised her she could be the flower girl at your wedding.”

I go still, my heart clenching tight. The picture is so easy to paintin my mind. I can all but hear Petra’s voice saying the words, followed by Karro’s little cheer of excitement. “Karolina would have made an excellent flower girl.”

“Yeah, I feel bad,” he goes on. “We really messed up that part, I think. Shae said again how much she wished she could have been there. I wish we could make it up to all of them.”

I hum in understanding. “What if we hosted a party?”

“A party?”

“Many of my teammates in the past have had weddings abroad in the offseason, then they host parties once the season starts again. Would that help soothe hurt feelings?”

He sits up, an excited look in his eyes. “Like a reception?”

I shrug. “If you want.”

He bites his bottom lip, leaning away, his mind clearly racing.

Reaching out, I brush my fingers lightly over the locs on his shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

“Could we maybe hire a photographer too? We just don’t really have any pictures of us—I mean, the ones on your phone definitely don’t count. I can’t send those to my sisters in a Christmas card.”

I chuckle. Since our little photoshoot in the bathtub, we’ve added a few shots to the password-protected folder on my phone. “Of course. A photographer for Teddy, a dress for Karolina—”

“And maybe a kiss?” Once the words are out of his mouth, I can see he regrets them. He groans, shifting away.

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