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“OK, but don’t show anyone else.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.” He gives me his phone and looks away.
“That bad, huh?” I snicker.
Bryce leans into my ear and whispers. “I got so fucking hard taking that video, watching your perfect tits bounce. Must review footage when we’re alone together. No one else gets to see what’s mine, remember?”
My loud snort causes a woman passing to raise her brow. When I watch the video, all I see is silly me with a goofy smile and mediocre leg strength. If Bryce thinks that’s hot, why argue?
“That was intense with my mom and Declan. Are you OK?” he asks, pulling me to a quiet corner.
“It was amazing. I can’t believe it happened in a trampoline park but wow, I feel so light, you know? A hundred pounds left my body when Noeleen hugged me.”
“She’s always had great upper arm strength,” he deadpans.
Play swatting his chest, I say, “Your family is amazing.”
“They’re your family too, Ana. Always was and always will be.”
I’m so moved by his tenderness; my next thought is impossible to hold back.
“I love you,” I whisper reverently, testing out the words before I declare them out loud. Apparently, trampoline parks are the chapel of emotional confessions.
Always alert, Bryce’s eyes scan over my shoulder when a group walks by.
“What did you say?”
Well, that was anti-climactic. I don’t want to repeat something that’s clearly not appropriate here and now.
“Ana, what did you say?” he asks again while staring at my lips.
I blush and fight the urge to cover my face.
“Because if it’s what I think you said, you’re going to have to be louder next time,” he says with a smile. Tiny lines crinkle at the corner of Bryce’s eyes, his irises like darkened gemstones.
I don’t want to botch the first time I say it to him. There has to be a better place to declare my love to a man I’ve cherished for so long.
“I think the boys are—”
“Are you going to tell me what you said a minute ago or am I going to have to kiss it out of you?”
Still unable to speak, I pull him down for a passionate kiss. When we come up for air, Bryce stares at me affectionately. My heart is bursting with gratitude and happiness and love.
In the middle of sock-clad bouncing and the heady aroma of sweat and disinfectant, while a symphony of Tarzan-inspired children fill my head, I find the courage to declare what I had been holding back.
“I lo—”
“What the hell, guys!” my brother bursts when he comes upon us.
“C’mon,” Maeve states while hooking her arms around her husband’s bicep. “We always knew they were meant for each other.”
“Still!” Sergei whines and scowls.
“How about you take it out on me at the dodgeball court,” Bryce says, shoulder nudging my disgruntled brother.
“I hope you’re wearing a jock strap,” Sergei grunts.
