by Anne Martin
I kept staring at her. I loved her. I was surrounded by screaming, crazy people who had been waiting for me to win for a long time, but none of them mattered. I’d won for my team, sure, but mostly Trix had told me to never lose for her again. I’d fight and keep fighting until it killed me, which might be soon if the expression on her face was any indication.
I licked my lips and walked through the crowd towards, not staggering because that wouldn’t be cool, or would it? She liked me bleeding and filthy, a funny thing for an OCD girl like her.
“Hi,” I said, looking into her eyes. She hadn’t moved an inch.
“What was that?” she asked, nodded towards the finish line.
I shrugged. “You told me not to lose.”
“Are you going to do everything I tell you to do?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m not going to divorce you, and I’m not going to stop protecting you.”
She lifted her chin, that deliciously pointed thing. “You look like you’re about to pass out even though you’re not as bloody as I expected.”
“Thank you? Where’s your mom?”
She shook her head. “She’s on a plane home. She said that I had to do this part on my own.”
I swallowed hard. If she wasn’t here, Trix had no reason to stay in my bed. I nodded. “Okay. It’s good that you’re here to support your team. They did really well.”
“They did good.”
“What?”
“My husband, Horse of the Band of Demons would say, ‘they did good.’ Don’t get prissy just because I know you went to Harvard. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a simple fighter who was the best man-whore in Nevada before his wife whipped him.”
I stared at her. “Sorry. I kind of have a concussion, so I’m not processing very well. What are you saying?”
She grabbed my neck and yanked me against her. “It means that you have to love me. You have to love me until you drop dead. Do you have a problem with that?”
I blinked at her. “Yeah. No. You should phrase your statements and questions more carefully. Yes, I’ll love you until I die, and no, I haven’t got a problem with it. I thought that you would. I might be clingy and wear my heart on my sleeve.”
“We can have matching sleeves.”
I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat. “What are you saying, Trixie?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re supposed to be a genius, and you can’t figure it out?”
I hesitated before I could manage the words. “You love me?”
She squeezed my hand. She hadn’t let go of it. “I love you. I love you more than I loved Violet.”
I shook my head. “That’s not possible.”
She smiled at me. “It’s not only possible, it’s true. I don’t know why you’re surprised. You earned it. Every last bit. Just like you earned the twenty.”
I inhaled sharply. “You remember?”
“You were a good kisser, but not as good as you are now. Does that mean you charge more now?”
I swallowed and gripped her hand. “Life-long servitude. You have to hold my hand every day.”
“I think,” she said, tracing my fingers with hers. “I picked very good hands to hold. My heart fits perfectly. Don’t drop it. It’s kind of delicate.”
I gazed into those eyes, more beautiful and unflinchingly brave than anyone in the world. “I’ll protect you with everything I have and am. I love you so much, Trix. I think I’m going to pass out. If my face goes into your chest, don’t take it out on the balls. It’s not their fault.”
She laughed then kissed me. I sank against her, holding her so tight.
Tears leaked out of my eyes. It was from the pain, surely, not my heart bursting with more love and happiness than I’d ever thought I’d hold. If she said it, she meant it.
Her kiss was over too soon when she pulled back frowning at me. “You should lie down. You took a really hard hit back there in the pit of fangs.”
I grinned at her. “I really did, but mostly to get bloody so you’d want me. Are you going to stay in my bed? With me?” Did love mean intimacy to her?
She held my hand tightly then turned me towards the crowd. She raised our hands and the crowd roared their approval. “I’m not staying in bed. I’m never going on bed rest again.” She shot me a mischievous smile. “But there will be love-making, every night unless I’m not in the mood, or our kid is shoving her feet in our faces. Did I tell you? We’re having a girl. I’m trying to get used it. No idea what to do with one of those. I can always just pretend she’s a boy and you can give her therapy when she’s all grown up.”
I pulled her into my arms and she let me. “She’s going to be beautiful, like her mother.” I kissed her, deep and true. With Trix in my arms, my team behind me, the crowd chanting, it felt like one of those Hallmark movies. Then the pain in my side flared and I jerked upright. Not a hallmark movie.
“Honey, I’ve got to lie down.”
She turned and lowered the seat so it was reclined. “Do you want me to drive or would you prefer an ambulance? I know who’d get you to the hospital fastest.”
I grinned at her and lowered myself slowly into the seat. “I’m so happy, Trix. I’m so agonizingly happy. I hope she has your curls.”
“Don’t curse the unborn. Horse, I’m sorry that I shoved a twenty down your pants. I really was a loser.”
I laughed. Ow. “It hurt a lot, but I’m not a fighter because I can’t handle pain. Right now, though, it’s a lot of pain. Does Nix feel like this every year when he wins? Who would do this twice? Back then, it was good for me. It gave me a taste of the objectification you go through every day. I love you. Do you mind if I tell you how much I love you every day?”
She leaned over to kiss my nose. “You can do whatever you want. Other than lose. And not want me when I’m fat and ugly.”
I took her hand and kissed it, slowly nibbling on every bit of her skin. “I promise that I’ll want you as long as I breathe. I intend to breathe as often as possible.”
I closed my eyes and drifted off to the sound of a perfect engine roaring through the desert next to the woman who’d walked through fire for me. I would return the favor. Forever.
The End
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