Page 90 of Faking the Shot
Valentina looks at me, her eyes wide and shimmering, then back at the reporter. “I . . . I think Kaden just said it all,” she says, her voice trembling.
The reporter beams, clearly basking in the story like it’s the juiciest thing since their last scoop. “Well, there you have it, folks. A love story for the ages.”
The cameras cut, and Valentina lets out a shaky laugh, half-disbelieving, half-horrified. “What the hell was that?”
I grin, stepping closer and pulling her into a quick, one-armed hug. “Damage control. And maybe a little showing off.”
“You’re unbelievable. This wasn’t the plan.”
“Yeah,” I say, leaning in until my lips are close to her ear, my voice low. “I went rogue, and it worked out even better, don’t you think?”
She pulls back just enough to glare up at me. “How did you even get that picture of us?”
“Oh, the picture?” I shrug, all casual, like it’s no big deal. “That was easy. Jacob’s brother has access to the CCTV—something about security and blah blah. I tuned out most of it, but the point is, he snagged a few nice shots of us. You know, our first date and all.”
“That wasn’t our first date,” she snaps, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Well, I plan to tell our children it was,” I reply with a smirk.
Her jaw drops. “Children? You want to have children with me?”
I reach for her, pulling her into a full hug this time, my arms wrapping tightly around her like she belongs there. “I want a life with you, Val,” I say, my voice softer now but no less firm. “Children. A messy house. Waking up to you stealing the covers. The whole damn forever package.”
Her breath hitches, and I can feel her hesitation. But I press on, knowing I need to put it all out there. “You’re like a power play in the third period, Val. A game-changer. I’ve spent my whole life focused on the ice, on winning, but with you? You’re the goal I didn’t even know I was shooting for.”
She looks up at me, her eyes glistening, and for a moment, I think she’s going to cry. But instead, she does what I least expect—she laughs. It’s light, breathless, and completely, maddeningly her.
“You drive me crazy, Kaden,” she says, her hands resting on my chest. “Half the time, I want to strangle you, and the other half, I can’t imagine life without you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That sounds to me like love.”
“It is,” she says softly, her cheeks flushing. “I love you. Even when you’re infuriating, even when you go rogue and make me want to throw something at your stupid, smug face.”
I grin, leaning down until our foreheads touch. “Good. Because I love you, too, Val. Even when you’re bossy and make me wear ties for interviews.”
Her laugh bubbles up again, and I swear it’s the best sound in the world.
“Does this mean I can go rogue more often?” I tease.
“Don’t push it, Crawford,” she says, pulling me closer.
But as she kisses me, soft and sure, the world shifts. It’s not fireworks or some over-the-top movie moment; it’s quieter, deeper. Her lips fit against mine like they’ve always belongedthere, like the rest of my life was just waiting for this exact moment.
Her hands slide up to my shoulders, her touch warm and steady, grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed. I let myself sink into it, into her. My arms tighten around her waist, pulling her flush against me, like if I hold her close enough, I can somehow keep this feeling forever.
She sighs against my lips, and it’s soft and breathless, the kind of sound that makes a guy’s chest ache in the best possible way. Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, and every nerve in my body feels like it’s on high alert, completely attuned to her.
This isn’t just a kiss. It’s a promise.
A promise that I’m not letting go. Not now, not ever.
I pull back just enough to look at her, my forehead resting against hers as I try to catch my breath. Her eyes flutter open, and the way she looks at me—like I’m more than the sum of my fuck-ups, like I’m someone worth sticking around for—hits me square in the chest.
“Val,” I murmur, my voice low and rough, “I wasn’t kidding about forever.”
Her lips quirk into a small smile, her hands still clutching my shirt. “Good,” she whispers, her voice just as unsteady as mine. “Because I wasn’t kidding when I said I love you, even when you’re impossible.”
I chuckle, brushing my thumb against her cheek. “Impossible, huh? Guess I’ll have to work on that.”
