25. Dakota

Flying home with Natalie and the kids after the Comets played the Freeze—which I now knew was aptly named—I had a few days to myself before the team's return. And boy was I putting that time to good use.

It was like something unlocked in my brain, and the words flew through my fingertips, unable to be contained. Who knew sex would be the perfect cure for writer's block? Or maybe it was having first-hand experience and being in love. Either way, I was on fire!

There were no longer any doubts about hitting my late February release date. The readers would be happy, and I was on cloud nine. Win-win.

Usually, I kept my door cracked when working, especially on this current project, practically begging for a distraction from Bristol. But not these past two days. I couldn't risk losing pace, not when I was on a hot streak.

But that didn't stop her from knocking tentatively on the third day I hadn't surfaced. "Hey. Just want to make sure you're still alive in there. I don't smell anything funky leaking into the hallway, but you never know."

Eyeing my computer, I sighed. Better to let her know I was fine so I could go back to work.

Standing, stretching my stiff back, I opened my bedroom door. "All good. Just didn't want to lose momentum."

Bristol's eyes widened. "Oh? It's going good?"

"More than good." I couldn't bite back a smile.

"I haven't seen you since before you left for Minnesota. Are you even eating? Or sleeping?" She assessed me skeptically.

Grimacing, I admitted, "Not much."

"Okay. Time for a break. Braxton will have my head if he comes home tonight and you're half dead, too weak to stand from low blood sugar and sleep deprivation." She smirked. "Plus, an embarrassingly large display of roses was delivered for you. Thought you might want to take a peek."

"Roses? For me?" My stomach somersaulted. No one had ever gotten me flowers before.

"The delivery driver said your name. Card appears to have it as well." She tugged on my arm. "Come downstairs and see for yourself. And while you're down there, let me reheat you some leftover pizza."

"Fine," I grumbled, even as I couldn't wipe the grin from my face.

Following her downstairs, I stopped dead in my tracks. I was expecting maybe a dozen roses, but my eyes bulged when I saw our entire coffee table, plus the kitchen table covered in stunning red roses, their aroma taking over the room.

"Oh wow," I breathed out. "What in the world did you do, Braxton?"

Bristol beamed at me. "I think he likes you."

"You think?" I huffed.

Stepping up to one of the many vases, Bristol plucked out a white envelope and handed it to me. Taking a deep breath, I slid the card out and read it to myself, my smile growing.

A rose for each day I've had you in my life. 105 down, forever to go, Firefly.

Clutching the card to my chest, a rush of warmth blanketed me. It was still hard to believe he was mine after how hard I'd pushed him away. But I would thank God every day for his stubbornness—or tenacity, as he called it—in his pursuit. He'd seen something I wouldn't allow myself to see until he proved himself, but he had always been up for the challenge.

"Let me see," Bristol whined beside me. I held it out, and she snatched it from my hand. Her soft gasp reached my ears as she read the words. Waving the card in my face, she demanded, "What the fuck is this?"

Frowning, my bubble burst. What did she see that I didn't? "What do you mean?"

Cocking a hip, Bristol challenged, "Forever to go? Is there a ring you've got stashed somewhere? Because if so, we are breaking up. No more best friend Bristol for you, young lady."

I sighed, carefully plucking the card from her grasp. I wanted to save his beautiful words, a reminder of his love when our relationship inevitably hit a hard patch. I wasn't a pessimist, but rather a realist. All relationships had their ups and downs, and this would be what I looked at any time we faced struggles in the future.

"No. There's no ring. I'm not insane. We've been dating for five weeks."

Bristol pursed her lips. "This note. These flowers. They're not nothing, Dakota. He said the word forever. How are you not freaking out right now?"

I shrugged before casually dropping a bomb on my best friend. "Because he loves me."

My back was turned, and I was headed to inspect the roses in the kitchen when I heard her shriek, "What?!" When I didn't answer, Bristol stomped to where I stood, grabbing my arm and turning me to face her. "Braxton Slate loves you? Did he say that?"

Trying to play it cool, I moved to the fridge. "We have pizza in here?"

"Dakota Elise. I swear to God, you better cut the shit and spill." Bristol's breaths came in sharp huffs like that of a fire-breathing dragon.

Slamming the fridge door shut, I leaned against the counter. "Yes, he said it." I smirked. "But so did I."

Bristol's jaw dropped. I would lay good odds that she hadn't seen that admission coming. When she finally worked through what I said, she let out an ear-splitting scream, and I was forced to cover my ears to protect them.

When she finally came up for air, she jolted as if struck by lightning. "Wait. You didn't—Oh my God, did you?" Scanning my face with her sharp gaze, she must have confirmed what she was looking for because she gasped, covering her mouth. "You so did! You slept with him!"

Heat rose to my cheeks, and I ducked my head. "Maybe?"

Scoffing, she countered, "Oh, there's no maybe about it, missy." Dragging me to the couch, she threw me onto it before sidling up to me, tucking her legs beneath her. "Tell me everything." She groaned. "I cannot believe you lost your virginity in Jaxon Slate's summer home. I was low-key obsessed with that man from the ages of ten to sixteen." Bristol smiled dreamily. "My first ever hockey boy crush. And now he's going to be your brother-in-law!"

A squeal flew past her lips, and I could only blink at her. She was running through every human emotion known to man, and it was quite the show.

"Okay. Maybe slow down a minute." I tried to settle her enthusiastic bouncing with a hand to her knee. "Like I said, there's no ring. No one is getting married anytime soon."

Bristol gave me a look that said get real, right before she challenged, "So, you're saying the man is talking about forever, but there aren't wedding bells in your future?" Her voice was full of sass.

I blew out a heavy breath. "I didn't say that." Oh, boy. I knew this next tidbit was going to send her through the roof. "He's already pictured us with kids."

"Kids!" Her blue eyes went comically large. "Holy shit. What the hell happened in Minnesota?"

"It was pretty magical," I mused.

Bristol closed her eyes before taking a cleansing breath in through her nose, letting it out through her mouth. "Okay. Give me a second because my brain can't keep up with how fast you're hitting me with life-altering information."

Grinning, I couldn't argue. My whole life had shifted on its axis these past few weeks, and I wasn't sorry. I was finally letting myself live. The future was ready and waiting to be written, and I couldn't wait to see how our story panned out.

Placing a hand to her chest, Bristol opened her eyes. "Okay. First question." I nodded, so she continued. "Did the ‘I love you' happen before or after you let him take your V-card?"

"A little bit of both." I knew that wasn't much of an answer, but it was true.

"Spit it out, woman!" She was losing her patience with me, and I couldn't blame her. It was too much fun to rile her up.

"He's mentioned big feelings for me in the past, but something clicked while we were away. Christmas was magical—he was magical—and I finally let myself analyze how he made me feel. So, I knew for certain I was in love with him before suggesting we have sex."

"You?" Bristol stared at me in disbelief. "Sweet, innocent, never-been-kissed Dakota propositioned him?" My smirk was all the confirmation she needed, and she muttered, "Damn. I thought you just got carried away. Hockey boys know how to fuck. And they like to do it often."

"Cheers to that." My cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. Being in love was fucking awesome.

Dazed, she whispered, "Look at you, you little slut. I love it!"

"Anything else you want to know? I have a book that's not going to write itself waiting for me. And as you mentioned, the boys are home tonight."

"You didn't answer my first question," she huffed.

"Oh, right. At some point during that first time, he mentioned already being in love with me. But it was the next night when I told him I loved him that he officially said, ‘I love you'." I smiled, thinking back on it. "Underneath a blanket of stars. A picture-perfect, book-worthy moment." I winked. "And I would know."

"Lucky bitch," Bristol grumbled. "So, this intense need to write . . . You got your inspiration, didn't you?"

Shrugging, I stood. "The mind is like a ketchup bottle. Sometimes you gotta bang on the end of it to get the ideas out."

Snorting, Bristol said, "Pretty sure it wasn't your mind getting banged."

We both fell into a fit of giggles. That one was pretty good. Might have to find its way into a book at some point.

"Back to work," I called over my shoulder, my ribs aching from laughter.

She made a whip-cracking sound. "I'll be at Nix's tonight, so you two love birds will have the house all to yourselves. Enjoy!"

I couldn't wait for Braxton to get home to thank him in person for the flowers.

Braxton didn't reply to my text thanking him for the roses until after their game against the Chicago Crush was over, and he was on the bus that would take the team to the airport.

Braxton: You are so welcome, Firefly. I can't wait to get home to you.

I'll be waiting up. What time do you think you'll get in?

Braxton: Hold, please, while I do time zone math. Let's see. It's 10:30 here, maybe an hour before we're in the air. Two hour flight, give or take, so that's 1:30 AM. Then another thirty minutes until I'm at your door. So, 2 AM, add an hour from Central Time, and you get 3 AM. I know it's late. Are you sure you want me to come over tonight?

I'm sure. I miss you.

Braxton: I miss you too, babe. But if you go to sleep now, I can be there as soon as you wake up. I hate the idea of you being tired because of me.

Then I guess it's a good thing I have the ultimate job flexibility. I took a nap earlier. I'm fine. I promise. Plus, I can use the next few hours to keep writing. Once you're here, I'll have a hard time staying focused. *Wink emoji*

Braxton: You get a lot of work done while I was away?

So much. I might actually meet my deadline at this rate.

Braxton: That's great news! Makes me feel better about being away, knowing you're being productive.

Have a safe flight. I love you and will see you soon.

Braxton: Love you too, baby. See you in a few hours.

I was curled up on the couch when Braxton finally made it home. His soft knock was hesitant, almost as if he doubted that I'd been able to wait up.

Jumping to my feet, I rushed to the door, flinging it open and launching myself into his strong arms. Braxton squeezed me tight, sucking in a large breath of air where his face was buried in my hair. "Fuck. I've missed your smell."

I would have returned the sentiment, except I'd been naughty. Stepping back, allowing him to close the door, I drank in the sight of the man I loved. He was still in a suit but was missing the jacket and tie. His white button-down was open at the collar, and the sleeves were rolled up, exposing his impressive forearms.

Damn, my boyfriend is hot.

His whiskey eyes flared when he saw what I was wearing. I'd taken the liberty of stealing one of his Comets T-shirts from his bag before he reported to the team in Minneapolis. I wore it every night while he was gone, allowing his scent to surround me as I slept. It was a comfort I hadn't realized I desperately needed.

But just as quickly as life sprang to his face, it drained. Running a hand down his tired face, he moved closer, brushing his lips softly against mine. "Can I just hold you tonight, Firefly? I know I've been gone a while, but . . ."

He didn't need to say the words. It was 3 AM, and he'd played—and won, I might add—a physically demanding game only hours ago. Of course, he was exhausted.

Slipping my hand into his, I tugged him toward the stairs. "Sounds perfect."

Entering my room, I climbed into bed, watching him strip down until all that remained on his muscular frame were black boxer briefs. Slipping in beside me, he pinched at the fabric of my—technically his—shirt. That crooked grin curved his lips. "Looks a little big."

Using my hands, I gripped the collar, bringing it to my nose but keeping my eyes locked on him. "Smells like you."

"You have me right here, baby." He tugged on the hem, and I raised my arms, allowing him to pull it over my head, leaving me only in a pair of the Arabella Reign silk panties Hannah had gifted me. Eyes roving over my mostly naked form, he whispered, "Much better."

Flicking off the light on the nightstand, he laid down, pulling my back against his chest. His body dwarfed mine, surrounding me with the warmth radiating from his skin. Pressing a kiss to the back of my neck, I could feel the contentment in his voice as he said, "Night, baby. It's so good to be home."

Held in his arms, I drifted off to sleep slowly. But one thought reached me before darkness dragged me under.

So, this is what pure happiness feels like.