Hate the Game - Winter Renshaw Page 0,72

of my shorts, un-popping the button before gliding the zipper down.

“I love you,” I tell him as his mouth peppers a trail of kisses down my lower stomach.

I didn’t think it was possible to feel every single emotion all at the same time, but this moment is proof that it’s possible. I’m terrified about the future, exhilarated with hope, giddy with love, and hot with desire all at once.

Talon slides my shorts down my thighs, followed by my panties, and then he shoves his gym shorts down. A moment later, I’m pinned beneath him, his cock hot and throbbing against my sex.

“I love you more,” he says as he buries his face into my neck, nibbling at my ears as his left hand veers between my legs. He teases my seam before circling my clit with his thumb. A second later, he slides two fingers inside me as my hips buck against him.

Suddenly I’m feeling anything but terrified.

He reaches over me, grabbing a condom from his nightstand, and I kiss his rounded shoulders, his skin still warm from his workout and the hot shower that followed.

I breathe him in—the man I adore more than anyone in this world. His musky, soapy scent. And I’m intoxicated.

Intoxicated with love, with hope.

They say good things are worth the wait—and while I didn’t always consider Talon a good thing … I’m so glad I waited before giving him a chance.

He was more than worth it.

Chapter 48

Talon

I hand Irie a coffee when she gets to anthro Monday morning. It’s the first day back after spring break and the lecture hall is packed with exhausted faces who don’t want to be here—but not us.

Every day that passes is a day closer to graduation.

And the day after graduation, we’re packing up our U-Haul and hitting the road.

“Aw, thank you.” Irie takes her drink before unpacking her notebook and pen from her bag. “Did you get that link I sent you last night? The townhouse in Richmond?”

“I did.”

“And? What’d you think?” she asks, taking a sip.

“I think you need to dream bigger, baby.” I give her a wink before stealing a kiss.

“I don’t think we should get carried away just yet. Oh! I wanted to show you something,” she says before reaching into her bag and pulling out a hardback textbook. A moment later she flips to a page marked with a neon orange Post-It and hands it over. “Found this last night by pure chance.”

“What’s this?” I ask.

“It’s a plan your father designed,” she says. “I found it in one of my exteriors textbooks.”

According to the blurb beside the picture, it’s called Talon’s Edge.

“I’ve never seen this one before,” I say. “And I thought I’d seen them all.”

“It was one of his last projects,” she says. “Isn’t it beautiful? Look at those clean lines and that symmetry. It’s perfection.”

I flip to the next page and find an image of the interior layout.

“I’m going to build this,” I say, tracing my fingertips along the preserved image. “For us. In Richmond.”

“Talon, this is eight thousand square feet …”

“I don’t care. This is it. This is our home,” I say, nodding. “What do you think? You up for tackling a project like this?”

Her eyes widen. “It’d literally be a dream come true. But are you sure you want to do this?”

The overhead lights turn dark and the screen down front flicks to life. I turn to Irie, studying her face in the dark, the glimmer in her eyes, the sweet smile that claims her soft lips. All this time I thought nailing her would be the ultimate win, but now I know I was wrong.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m sure.”

I’m going to marry this woman someday.

Epilogue

Irie

10 years later …

I stand on the balcony of our home on a balmy June afternoon, a drooling, teething baby Bette on my hip as I watch Talon toss a football to our seven-year-old son, Theo, in the backyard. The sun sets over Talon’s Edge, painting the sky in warm shades of hibiscus and tangerine. It’s nights like these, the simple and ordinary ones, that make me stop and think about how far we’ve come—and how all of this almost didn’t happen.

Thank God for Talon’s persistence.

You can give the man any goal in the world, and I swear, he’ll make it happen.

It’s a gift.

Sometimes I think he might be better at manifesting than football—though he’s still pretty damn good at football. One of the best in the league statistically, morally, or otherwise. Richmond just signed him