Each time I see Gunnar we grow closer. We connect more deeply. We share.
Over the next month, we spend more time together. We fuck—we consume, we relish, and we enjoy each other thoroughly, despite the pressure of our busy schedules. Soon, the time we spend out of the bed holds just as much appeal as the time we spend in it.
And when I sit in the box at his game and he blows a kiss up at the stands, I know it’s for me, and my chest gives a tiny little flutter.
“That—right there,” Theresa says, gesturing to my face.
“What?” I ask, but I don’t meet her gaze because Gunnar is looking at me and I’m entirely focused on him.
“It’s the look of a man in love,” she says, and a month ago, I would have thought she was wrong. A month ago, I would never have thought anything like this was possible—but it is, and it’s right, and it’s so damn easy.
Turns out I can be focused on my work and still have room in my head and my heart for another guy—I just had to meet the right special someone.
And later that night, after I’ve shown my man just how impressed I was with his performance on the field, I tell him as much.
“I love you, Gunnar,” I say, and he gives me that look—the cocky, showboat expression that first caught my attention at the club, and then on his Instagram all that time ago.
“I know,” he says, running a hand over my naked chest. “I’m pretty loveable.”
“Just say it,” I groan, and he laughs.
“I love you too,” he replies, and we kiss, and it’s the perfect way to seal this new level our relationship has jumped to.
It all started with chemistry in a club. The insatiable desire to fuck and be fucked in just the way we both wanted and craved.
But it morphed into more.
Our instalust became this deep and potent connection.
And that’s the story of how a thirst trap turned into a happily ever after.
THE END