Page 350 of Wrong Pucking Player

“Mhmm,” Armani sounds like he’s falling asleep. I feel him snuggle closer to me as an arm drapes over my stomach. “They’ll introduce you too as forward.”

“Can’t wait,” Wyatt admits.

I feel his lips as he kisses my neck and then my cheek.

“Xandra?”

“Hmm?” I open my eyes enough as I turn my head to his side to see his sleepy eyes.

“I love you,” he confesses. “Love you with all my being.”

I can’t remember the last time he confessed to me like this, but it makes my heart swell as I lean in to share a bittersweet kiss.

“I love you, too, Wyatt.”

Armani mutters something before he snuggles even closer against me.

“Don’t forget about me,” he mumbles, clearly half asleep. Wyatt chuckles and laughs again.

“Say you love her, Oscar. Jeez. You’re not romantic at all.”

“She knows I love her,” he mumbles. “I have it tatted on my neck,” he notes as if we forgot.

I giggle.

“You made that very clear, Armani,” I tease and turn my head to kiss the very spot that healed nicely.

He shivers at my touch, followed by a moan when I trail the cursive words of his tattoo with my tongue. He groans and opens his eyes enough so he can kiss me properly.

“I love you, Kenzie,” he whispers. “You’re everything we could have ever asked for.”

“I love you, too, Oscar.” I’m gonna get teary-eyed, seeing how much love is embedded in his eyes. To think we were practically enemies, and here we are, in the same bed, with Wyatt in tow.

We really made it.

“I told you, we’d be end game,” Wyatt whispers, and I know he’s dozing off. “You, me, and Oscar.”

Armani chuckles quietly, sounding like he’s on the verge of sleep, just like Wyatt.

“Me. You. Cyrus Jr.”

They’re quiet for a bit, and I wonder if they’ve fallen asleep, but Wyatt mutters something and snuggles up against me as his arm lays above Armani’s.

“Tomorrow we pick up the new kitten,” he reminds sleepily. “Someone wake me up.”

“Mhmm. Avalanche…” Armani mutters.

“Snowy,” I correct. “The alarm is on, don’t worry.”

“Alarm for morning sex,” Wyatt whispers.

“No,” I groan, but he just smiles at my response while Armani mutters, ‘Yes’ in Russian.

I giggle at the both of them, realizing as their breaths slow, they’ve both fallen asleep.

Smiling and admiring their peaceful expressions, I end up staring at the ceiling for a moment, reminiscing on my life and how I’m entering a new chapter as the official team nurse of the Saskatchewan Pincers.

I’m also Sofiya Androsov, princess and future heir of the Androsov Empire.

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