I haul ass.
I’m pushing past players and coaches, hearing what the fuck and who the hell is that as I whizz past everyone, breaking through the entire 49ers bench as I run straight out onto the goddamn Levi’s Stadium field.
I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. They’re gonna take me down and break all my bones. And I’m gonna die.
I glance over my shoulder as my feet move faster than they ever have. Seeing Nate haul one of the security guards up in the air buys me some time, so I scream, “Crew,” making him look over his shoulder just as I pounce.
Tackling exactly how he taught me in that penthouse too many months ago.
He topples over, and we roll with me landing on top, straddling him, my hands on his chest pads.
“What the fuck?” he bellows, spitting out his mouth guard.
But the minute he opens his eyes, he’s matching my smile.
“I came to get you. Sorry about being late.”
He reaches for his helmet, but I don’t get to see his face because I’m launched about two feet away, shoved, and carried off by security.
Oh fuck.
There’s so much noise that I can’t understand what’s being yelled at me as two guys hold my arms and start to cart me away. I look over my shoulder, my feet stumbling over each other, seeing a charging Crew, helmet chucked as he barks, “Get your fucking hands off her.”
They look confused but listen, just as he spins me around and picks me up. My legs wrap around his waist as his arms wrap around my rib cage.
“You rushed the quarterback,” he breathes out, grinning from ear to ear with that black stuff smudged under his eyes.
My palms cradle his face as I start to cry, overwhelmed with emotion because he’s the most beautiful goddamn sight I’ve ever seen. My heart’s beating out of my chest as I rush my words out.
“Yeah, I really want him to be my boyfriend.” My breath catches as I add, “But only if he wants that too.”
Crew’s jaw tenses as he stares into my eyes before he starts to laugh, shouting his words to the sky.
“I do.”
And just like that, we went full circle. Right back to the two little words that started this.
His lips seal over mine, and I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing the holy fuck out of him. I don’t even have to look to know we’re on the jumbotron because the crowd is screaming in epic proportions.
I don’t know how long he kisses me, but what I do know is that there’s a tap on my shoulder as he sets me to my feet. Whistles blow around us, and this time, security motions in the direction I should walk as they reassure a worried Crew.
“Don’t worry, she’s not going to real jail. Just the holding tank here at the stadium. You can pick her up after the game.”
He grips my waist, kissing me one more time, and whispers words into my lips.
“Be a good girl, Wild Card. And thanks for finally screaming my name.”
I can’t help but start laughing as I’m carted away, glancing back at my hot-as-fuck boyfriend as he watches me go.
I’m not sure if this is the ending Millie’s romantic-comedy dream had in mind, but it’s good enough for me.
The security guard smiles down at me. “You should wave. They’re all cheering for you. For you and Crew.”
People always say when luck meets opportunity, that equals success. But I call bullshit. And today is proof. Because even when you get knot so lucky, you can still hit a jackpot.
epilogue
Your lucky numbers: 4, 7, 22, 30
eleanor, march
“Are you ready for this?”
“I was born ready for you, Wild Card.”
Crew’s hand tangles in my hair as he leans down and kisses me gently before rubbing his nose over mine. It feels like the smile on my face has been permanent since he bailed me out of 49er prison camp. Probably because it has.
A soft breath flutters past my lips as I reach up and straighten his bow tie as he presses another kiss to my forehead.
“Hey,” he whispers as my eyes meet his again. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”
I nod, running my palms over his black lapels, smoothing the fabric of his tux.
“Hmm,” he hums. “Then have I told you how perfect you are?”
I nod again, poofing out my ’60s vintage white Chanel cocktail dress.
He taps his chin, pretending to think some more, the shine of his Super Bowl ring creating a rainbow on my white dress.
“Then,” he draws out, pinching my chin between his fingers and lifting my face to his. “Have I told you I can’t live without you. That every fucking day is better than the one before because of you. Do you know I’d give it all up if you asked me to because there’s no better dream than being your husband…or…aka I love you.”
I stand in silence, drinking him in because I feel the exact same way.
Which is why eight months after we got married, we’re back where it all began—the Little White Chapel. Except this time, a hundred of our nearest and dearest are waiting inside to watch us walk down the aisle together and do it all over again.
It’s crazy. But so are we.
It’s unconventional. But we’ve never been ordinary.
Plus, who the fuck turns down a Super Bowl–winning quarterback in the middle of the field after the win?
Not this girl.
My palms press to his chest as I lift to my tiptoes, kissing him and speaking my words against his lips.
“I love you too, QB. You’ll forever be my number one.”
We’re lost in the kiss, letting it deepen as we hear, “Get a room,” followed by, “But not the one we had before.”
Crew chuckles against my lips as we pull away to see Nate and Millie coming from around the corner.
His arms are still around me as I smile at them.
“What’s going on?”
Millie holds up my bouquet. “You forgot this.”
I roll my eyes at myself, but as I take it, she starts chewing the inside of her cheek. Uh-oh.
“What else? Is my dad still mad he’s not walking me down the aisle? Because we’re doing that at the fancy wedding. I already told him that.”
Crew chuckles because it was his idea to have the fancy wedding, all because he’s still apologizing for once playing for the Raiders.
She shakes her head and looks at Nate, but he tries to hide his smile as he throws out, “God, you two look a whole lot better than you did the first time.”
Crew looks at me, just as skeptical as I am, before he runs a hand over his jaw.
“That’s not hard to do when the bar was set to drunk in the club. What the hell is going on?”
Millie motions to Nate like he should speak, and now my eyes are starting to widen.
“Okay,” she chuckles as Nate grabs her waist keeping her close. “So here’s the thing… He was really excited to surprise you, but I think it’s better to know going in.”
Millie looks at Nate for help. “Babe—”
“Who’s surprising…know what?” I rush out, smiling only because she’s smiling.
Nate laughs and shakes his head. “He even made sure the music was perfect…I mean, the guy’s a hopeless romantic. Take it from us.”
Millie swoons a bit as she adds, “It’s so cute,” before she looks at Nate, and he winks at her.