He groaned as his mouth landed on mine. His hands covered my body as he bit at my lips.
“I love you, Vanessa.”
I wanted to stay in bed all day like this. Loving them. But it was game day.
“We have to get going, darlin’,” Dylan reminded me. He picked the towel up from the floor.
“I know.” I pouted. “I just can’t believe we all said that and now we have to go to the stadium.”
Isaac pulled my hair back, kissing me under my ear. “It won’t change between now and when we celebrate our win tonight. I love fucking you because I love you.” He pressed his forehead to mine. I shivered with the words.
Could this be real? Could I be in love with both of them equally? I felt it with every part of me. They were a part of who I was now. I’d never choose one over the other. And that meant loving them together was the only way my heart could operate.
“Come on, man.” Dylan had started to walk out of the room. “I’ll be ready to head in in five.”
“Game day jitters?” Isaac ribbed.
“More like game day records to break. Who do you think gets more yards today you or me?” He looked at the ceiling. “I’m guessing me.”
“Shut up, Dylan.”
Isaac lingered in bed. I knew he had to get in the shower. The clock was ticking down on our minutes together.
He closed his eyes. “Tonight. We’ll do something special tonight.”
I nodded. He hopped off the bed, making his way to the shower, closing the bathroom door behind him.
Dylan smiled at me from the doorway. He strolled toward me, leaning over the bed. I rocked backward as his lips crashed into mine.
“I’ve never it said before.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Really?”
He nodded. “I didn’t want to tell you that in front of Isaac, but it’s true.” He drew a long slow kiss from my lips. “See you after the game.” He winked and was gone.
I had to keep the squeal inside. Because all I wanted to do was jump up and down on Isaac’s bed and shout to the world that they loved me. That I loved them. And that life was so perfect.
Thirty-Three
Isaac
Only a month to go before playoffs started. Each game meant more. We were getting closer to the end goal. If only we could fend off the Wranglers today. We’d be one step closer to clenching the division.
The fans were rowdy. They usually were when the San Antonio team was in town. It was a bitter rivalry that had divided more than one Texas family in half.
I stood on the sideline, waiting for a defense to get a turnover. It was almost halftime. The score was tied seven to seven.
I looked up at the jumbo-tron, just as Lenny sacked Wes Blakefield.
“Yeah!” I pumped my arm in the air.
The Wranglers offense ran off the field. It was fourth down. They had to punt the ball.
The wide receivers coach walked over to me. “We’re changing the route,” Benji smacked his gums. He was a smoker, and during games he was stressed so he went through packs of gum, mints, anything he could chew on since cigarettes were off limits.
Dylan leaned over. “Changing the route?”
“Yeah. The Wranglers are all over you two. Let’s mix it up. Price, you’ve got the right and James you take the left. Count stays the same.”