Page 102 of Slots & Sticks
“I know.”
“I’ve loved you for so long, Dot. You don’t even understand how deep it goes.”
I do. God, I do. Because it’s the same way I love him—so thoroughly it’s terrifying.
I cup his face in my hands and kiss him slowly. Long. Deep. A promise, not a question. When I pull back, there are tears on my cheeks that I don’t remember crying.
He kisses them away.
My hand slides between us, shaking slightly, and I press my palm to his chest. His heart is thundering.
“I used to dream about this,” I whisper. “Not just the sex. Not even the ring. Just… being yours. Feeling safe. Feeling seen.”
He takes my left hand and brings it to his lips, kisses the ring, then the inside of my wrist. “You’re mine now. And I’m yours.”
“Always.”
Camden shifts beneath me. “So… I’ve been meaning to ask you. Did you go through the entire pallet of books yet? How many are you keeping? My condo’s already at max capacity.”
I stretch my legs over his, smug. “You’ll figure it out. You’re the genius at hockey. Just put it on a whiteboard.”
“Oh, sure.” He fakes a sigh. “I’ll just add a second story to the condo. Smut Loft™. Only the finest erotic paperbacks allowed.”
“Some of them are hardcovers.” I poke his side. “You mock, but I went through that entire box you brought me last week. There’s one where the goalie is a virgin who is addicted to peanut butter toast. Can’t play without having two slices in the locker room.”
Camden blinks. “That… wasn’t intentional.”
“Oh, and the vampire barista? Five stars. Very educational.”
He groans. “When I want online, the pallet was vaguely labeled, ‘romantic escapism.’ Not ‘religiously conflicted blood kink.’”
I grin. “Too late. We’re readingSlay Me, Barista Daddytogether on our honeymoon.”
He tilts his head like he’s already planning how to pack it. “Only if you do the voices. And Mira has to be powered down.”
“Deal.” I kiss him again, right over his fluttering, idiot heart. “But we’re definitely going to need a storage unit.”
Camden pulls me tighter. “SmutVault™. Coming soon to a strip mall near you.”
We sit there like that for a long time—wrapped around each other, naked and spent and smiling like idiots.
I rest my head on his shoulder, his arms a fortress around me, and for the first time in forever, I let myself believe it’s okay to be this happy.
This isn’t the end of our story. It’s the beginning.
There’s a wedding in our future. Maybe kids. Maybe chaos. But tonight? It’s just us. Forever, softly starting.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Camden
One year later…
“I don’t get why Bowen gets to be the best man,” Viktor whines.
It’s barely noon, and my nerves are buzzing—not from anxiety, but from the surreal weight of the day. I’m getting married. Every sound in the room feels amplified: the rustle of tuxes, the faint laughter from downstairs, Viktor’s endless chatter filling the silence that might otherwise swallow me whole.
I straighten my tie. “You have voiced your displeasure on multiple occasions.”
