Page 179 of Hometown Halftime

After I proposed, I took a little gamble and booked our honeymoon without her input. When I showed her the itinerary for our two weeks in Rome and the Italian countryside, she practically tackled me, crying about how perfect it will be. I was relieved that my gamble paid off.

“You know that would never happen. First, there must be dancing. Second, I think you’re secretly having fun with all this.”

Her eyes narrow at me. “Yes to the dancing, no to the calling me out, Weston.”

Grinning, I cross the room and lean down to kiss her. Nine months later, it still feels impossible that I get to do this every day. Kinsey's hand slides behind my neck while she kisses me back. I still get goosebumps when she does that.

Kevin jumps onto a chair and lets out a loud, offended meow. Our lips part as we both look at him.

I shake my head. “He's jealous.”

“He’s blatantly trying to steal you from me.”

“Don’t worry, you’re the only kitten for me,” I say as I wink.

She cringes. “Oh my God, that was the worst.”

I steal one more quick kiss before pulling away and heading toward the kitchen.

“How was the clinic?” I call over my shoulder.

Her face lights up as she follows me to the fridge. Just like it always does when she tells me about her day. A couple of months ago, Kinsey took a position with a youth rugby clinic. She leads a couple of rec teams and offers one-on-one coaching.

The next ten minutes are spent listening to stories about the class she ran this afternoon. One girl finally learned how to tackle correctly. Kinsey talks with her hands when she gets excited, and somewhere in the middle of a story about a twelve-year-old who attempted to tackle a girl twice her size, I realize I'm smiling like an idiot.

Watching her talk about rugby still does something to me. Maybe it's because I remember how nervous she was when everything started. Maybe it's because she fought so hard to stay connected to the game she loves. Either way, seeing her this happy is so sexy.

Dinner comes together while she talks. I chop vegetables while she places a couple of chicken breasts in a pan on the stove, and Kevin sits in a chair at the kitchen island pretending that he's helping.

Later, Kinsey opens the refrigerator and reaches around the medication case sitting on the shelf to grab some butter. We have our bi-weekly ASS Nights—which stands for Ankylosing Spondylitis Sucks—where we do her injection and then eat an unreasonable amount of ice cream while watching whatever rom-com she picks.

The medication case has lived in our refrigerator since we moved in together. Some days are harder than others, but the injections help. The fear that once felt so overwhelming has gradually become just another part of life that we manage together.

She closes the refrigerator and catches me staring.

“What?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

She pokes my chest with her finger. “That's a lie.”

I pull her into my arms. She comes willingly, wrapping her arms around my waist while resting her chin against my chest.

“Fine,” I say. “I was thinking about how much I love you.”

Her blue eyes shine.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

The engagement ring catches the kitchen light when she moves her hand between us. It’s a reminder that we were meant for each other and we want the same things out of life.

A few months ago, the day after a game that led into our bye-week, and after more consultations and paperwork than should be required for a twenty-three-year-old man, I got a vasectomy.

The whole process frustrated me more than anything else. Not because I had doubts, but because everyone else, including two doctors who refused to approve the procedure, seemed convinced that someday I would regret it. Kinsey and I talked about it, weighed our options, and made the choice that felt right for us. Once we made it, neither of us looked back.

My gaze drifts around the kitchen. Wedding plans cover the dining room table. Kevin is keeping watch from his chair, and music hums softly from the speaker on the counter.

A year ago, I had no idea this would be my life.

Now the woman I love is standing in my arms wearing my ring. Warmth spreads through my chest, and I find myself quietly grateful for every twist and turn that brought us here.

Without saying a word, I guide her into the middle of the kitchen, and she smirks as one hand settles against her waist while hers finds my shoulder. We sway together between the stove and the island, stealing a few quiet minutes while dinner cooks and Kevin judges us from across the room.

“Love you, Kitten.”

“Love you so much, Rookie.”

Tomorrow I'll go back to practice and spend the rest of the week preparing for the biggest game of my career so far.

But in this quiet moment, winning and losing don't feel so important. Because no matter what happens on the field, I've already won because Kinsey will be beside me through it all.

The End.