Page 140 of Playing Mr. Perfect

“And this is for you!” I crush my lips to his for all the world to see.

“I love you, baby!”

As he lowers me to my feet, I see Jason coming up behind him.

Clay

The blood drains from Pepper’s face, and she stumbles backward. I reach for her just as Gorecky sidles up to me, and she steps farther away. One look at the humiliation and anger warring in her eyes and Gorecky’s smarmy smirk is all it takes for understanding to slam into me. I grit my teeth, my hands curling into fists. Media cameras are all over the fucking place, reporters are shouting at me about my Hail Mary, but all I see is red.

Gorecky lifts his chin in Pepper’s direction and says, “Looking good, Pepper.”

“Don’t you fucking look at her,” I seethe.

He flashes an arrogant grin, turns his back to the cameras, and says, “Enjoying my sloppy seconds, Brad—”

A crack sounds as my fist connects with his jaw, and he reels back. Blinded by rage, I get another punch in before he comes at me, his face bloody. Our fists fly, but guys drag us away from each other.

“Watch your back, Braden!” Gorecky shouts. “I’m gonna fucking kill you this season.”

Cameras are in my face and people are shouting at me. I tear my arms out of my teammates’ grips, searching the crowd for Pepper. I scan the sidelines and see Seth and Kane standing in front of Pepper like bodyguards. Sable has her arm around her, and my girl, my love, has fear written all over her beautiful face.

“Clay!” a reporter shouts. “Why did you go after Gorecky?”

I look into the camera and grit out, “Because he’s an asshole.”

“Are you worried about his threat for next season?” the reporter asks.

“Not even a little. But he’ll have to come find me, because I’m done. I’m retiring.”

There’s a flurry of shouts and gasps as I stride toward Pepper, who looks as shocked as everyone else.

The reporter keeps pace with me. “What’s next for Mr. Perfect?” He shoves a microphone into my face.

“Hopefully marrying the love of my life.”

Pepper’s eyes widen, and her jaw drops as Seth and Kane step aside, and I step in front of her.

“Clay, what are you doing?” she asks with a nervous laugh. “Are you okay? Did he hit you in the head? I thought you were signing the extension.”

“I’m following my heart. The only thing I want to sign is a marriage certificate making you my wife.”

Her eyes tear up. “What?”

“Baby, when I threw that winning pass, all I wanted was to get to you. I’m done being Mr. Perfect and living my life for everyone else. I want to live it for us. I want to help make your dreams come true, because if you marry me, my dreams will be signed, sealed, and delivered. I want to bring you lunches and spend our lives finding new hobbies and taking polar plunges and dips in the hot tub. I want to make out in parking lots with the woman I love and not care who sees it. I want you to be reckless with me, and I’ll be not so perfect with you. What do you say, baby? Want to tie the knot today in Vegas?”

She laughs, tears spilling from her eyes. “Do I even have a choice? I mean, look at those dimples.” Laughter rises around us.

“Is that a yes?” I ask.

“Yes, I’ll marry you, you crazy man!”

The stadium explodes into whoops and cheers, and I crush my lips to hers. “I love you, baby,” I say between kisses, and she says it, too, her salty tears slipping between our lips.

There’s a frenzy of commotion as I give statements to the press, and my teammates and coaches congratulate us and give me shit for retiring. But I know I’m doing the right thing.

When we finally carve out some space from the mayhem, Sable says, “I guess we’re heading to the Chapel of Love.”

Kane eyes me. “How would you feel about making it a double wedding?”