Game On: The Friend Zone Part 33

Gray refuses to tell me where we're going or why, or even give me a hint, which leaves me with all sorts of ideas, none of them based in reality. I'm up to guessing it's a ride in the Goodyear blimp when we enter the campus.

He parks in front of the stadium, and my excitement turns to confusion. "Why are we here? If you think I'm playing some random game of midnight touch football on a full stomach, you've got another thing coming."

"No football, I promise." He's grinning like a kid on a snow day. "You'll see. Come on."

Taking my hand, he leads me to one of the stadium's side entrances.

"Are we allowed to be here?"

Gray's texting something on his phone, but gives me a quick look. "Now, Mac, you know me better. Of course not."

I huff, but then the door opens and a security guard waves us in.

"Thanks, Rufus," Gray says.

Rufus, an older, portly gentleman, give a gruff nod. "Just remember our deal and clean up after yourselves."

"What was the promise?" I ask as we walk farther into the stadium and Rufus ambles off, his large frame waddling slightly.

"Tickets to the bowl game and that I don't trash the place."

"Ah." I trot alongside Gray, whose hand has become slightly damp. He glances down at me a few times, his smile tight but his eyes s.h.i.+ning as though excited.

All questions stop when I see the soft glow in the center of the field. A nest of blankets has been laid out along with a basket, camp lantern, and, a little ways away, a small heater.

Gray leads me to the spot. "I wanted to give you your last present here."

"I get another present?" I sit on the blankets, curling my legs under me so that he has room. "Gimme."

Gray laughs but pulls a carafe out of the basket. "Cocoa first."

The little heater provides warmth, but not as much as Gray's big body. I snuggle against him and drink cocoa. The dark stadium is still and quiet, the high, slanting sides looming up around us. Only a few lights by each end zone are on, s.h.i.+ning a harsh, bluish white. "It kind of feels like we're in the bowels of a s.p.a.ce s.h.i.+p."

Gray s.h.i.+fts closer, and his chin rests against my shoulder. "I guess it kind of does now. I've never been here when it's dark like this." I feel his head turn and know he's looking around. His voice lowers to reverence. "To me, it's a cathedral. I sit here and I feel calm, centered. And yet it's like all the energy of games past remains, coursing through my veins, and I can't wait for the next game." My hand finds his, and I hold it as he continues. "I don't even think it matters what stadium I'm in. It just feels right." Soft lips brush along my neck. "The same way you feel right."

This man. He does it for me in every way. I turn and kiss him, loving that I can. That he's mine. Gray's fingers thread through my hair to cup the back of my head as he deepens the kiss, tasting me like it's the first time. Heat flares over my skin, but he pulls back, his breath coming a little faster. He gives me one more soft peck. "Love you, Ivy Mac."

"Love you, Cupcake."

Gray takes a deep breath, his nose against my hair as if he's taking in my scent. Then he gives himself a little shake. "Okay. Present." He fumbles around in the basket, his shoulders inching up, and it hits me that he's nervous. Really nervous.

Which makes me nervous. When he turns, he's so tight the muscles along his thighs bulge against his jeans. "Ivy..."

My attention drifts to the little black box he holds. s.h.i.+t. I can't move. My heart slams against my ribs.

Gray sits back on his heels, facing me. With shaking hands, he opens the box. The ring is gorgeous, an Art Deco design of three flat, emerald-cut diamonds on a platinum band.

I stare at it, numb inside, then look back at Gray. His whole heart is in his eyes. The corner of his mouth quirks, trembling a little. I just want to hug him close, only I'm frozen.

"This was my mom's," he says. "The only tangible thing I have left of her. Seeing it on your finger would give me joy."

"Gray..." I swallow hard. "What-"

He quiets me with a squeeze of my hand. "Ivy Jane Mackenzie, I want to marry you. I want you to be my family. And I'll be yours." He looks at me with hope and longing. "Say yes?"

Shock has punched the breath out of me. I'd feared this. Yet, his words, the look in his eyes, makes me want to hug him close. Which makes it harder to answer.

"I can't."

He winces but doesn't take his eyes off me. "Why?"

He says it so reasonably, as if I'd refused another cup of cocoa. A choked laugh leaves me. "Ah. Because we're twenty-two, for one thing."

"Pretty sure lots of twenty-two-year-olds get married, Mac."

Yeah, and I'm pretty sure I know why he wants to marry me. I love him for it. And I hate him for it. Grinding my teeth, I struggle to think of something to say to make him understand. "You're the best college tight end I've ever seen."

Gray c.o.c.ks his head to the side. "Okay, not what I was expecting. Is there a point to this?"

"You could go number one."

"I hope so." His bronze brow lifts as if I've lost my nut. "Again, your point?"

"That's a lot to take in. Worrying about a wife shouldn't be part of it."

With a curse, Gray looks off, his glare focused on the yellow uprights down the field. When his gaze returns to me, his focus is so intense, I feel it in my belly. "Were you planning to dump me, Ivy? When I'm thrust into this so-called awesome life?"

His anger vibrates through me. "No. Of course not."

"Then why bring this up? And what about your wants and needs?"

"I am thinking about that." I don't want to be proposed to for the wrong reasons.

"So you don't want me in your life come Draft Day?" he shoots back, his eyes wide and hurt.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then tell me what you do mean, Ivy."

"I was a mistake," I blurt out.

Gray blinks, his expression pinched. "A mistake? What? You think I view you as a mistake?"

"No." I take a breath. "I was an accidental pregnancy. My parents were only dating when Mom became pregnant. She was supposed to go back to England, not stay here. They got married because of me." The irony is a twist in my guts.

For a second, Gray just stares. Then he reaches for me and I'm cuddled tight against his chest. "Honey, no. No."

Burrowing closer, I clutch his waist. "How can you say no when you don't even understand what I mean?"

"Because I know you." He leans back a little to look me in the eye. "You think we're like them? That I'm asking you because I feel obligated? f.u.c.k no." His fingers trace my jaw. "We're nothing like them. First off, we're not dating." His mouth twists like it's an ugly word. "We're together, as in I wake up every morning and think, 'Thank f.u.c.k, Ivy wants me. How can I persuade her to keep me forever?'"

I snort and lean my head against his chest. "I do want you," I whisper. "But that doesn't mean we have to get married. Don't ask me because of this pregnancy. That would be the very worst way to start a marriage. You'll regret it, Gray. Trust me."

Gray blows out a frustrated breath. "Did your dad ever say why he cheated?"

Caught off guard, the answer tumbles out of me. "He said he felt like it was his due. Women and fame."

"Well, that's not me. I've had that already and just..." He shakes his head. "No. I'm twenty-two and I feel like an old man with that s.h.i.+t. The thought of fooling around like that again exhausts me, makes me ill. I haven't even looked at another woman since we started texting. Because I only want you. With or without a baby, I want you, Mac. Just you."

"But you're asking me to marry you, Gray."

"Uh, yeah, and you keep rejecting me, d.a.m.n it." He laughs, but the vulnerability in his voice guts me.

My palm spreads over his heart. "Are you going to tell me that you'd have asked if I wasn't pregnant?"

His chest lifts on a sigh, and he peers down at me, his blue eyes dark. "Ivy, you woke me up. I thought I was living each day to the fullest but it was bulls.h.i.+t. I was playing a part, being a joker. And I didn't know it."

"That's not an answer."

He frowns. "You think I'd planned to let you go? That was never going to happen. Yeah, I'm asking sooner because of this. Because it gives me an excuse to do it. f.u.c.k, Ivy, deep down I knew you were it for me from the beginning. Only I'd look crazy if I said it so soon."

My smile is wobbly. "Not crazy."

Gray cups my cheeks and presses his forehead against mine. "So say yes."

"Gray... The first year of marriage is supposed to be the hardest. And that's without the pressure of caring for a baby. It's a recipe for disaster."

"I like a challenge." Gray gives my shoulders a squeeze. "If anything, I should be worried. You've only had one c.r.a.p experience and then me. Who's to say you aren't the one who gets bored?"

"I find that idea laughable. I'm never bored when I'm with you."

His smile is crooked. "Yeah, well, same here." Gray leans a little closer, bringing his warmth. "I told you we'd be so f.u.c.king good together. And I'm never wrong about these things."

I can't help drawing closer, nipping the clean curve of his jaw. "Know-it-all."

"You know it," he murmurs as his mouth chases mine. His kiss is tender.

When he pulls back, we grin at each other. But the shaky, nervous feeling returns, and I take a breath. "But, Gray, marriage? I can barely get past this whole being-knocked-up thing and, h.e.l.l, I don't know..."

Gray runs his fingers along the fringe of my bangs. Calming me. "Look, I know it feels like everything is happening too fast. I probably just made it worse. s.h.i.+t. We don't have to get married. It's just I wanted to give this ring to you. To show you what you mean to me. That I have your back. Always."

Sitting in its little black box, the ring s.h.i.+nes, the diamonds clean as ice and winking. Gray glances at it then back to me. "It doesn't have to be an engagement ring if that scares you. Wear it because we're together. Wear it because I love you." He rubs the back of his neck, his skin flushed. "That is if you want to. h.e.l.l, I've fumbled this whole thing-"

I cup his warm cheeks and kiss him. His lips part on a surprised breath, then he's kissing me back, deep and needy, his arm wrapping around my waist to haul me close. We're a bit sloppy, taking and receiving kisses as though we've been apart for years.

By the time we calm down, I'm a little dizzy and a lot giddy. My nose touches his, nuzzling. "Maybe we can be engaged to be engaged?"

"As long as we're together, it can be anything you want."

"Put it on me."

Our hands shake only a little as Gray slides the ring on my finger. It's beautiful. So beautiful my vision blurs, and I blink to clear it.

Gray rests his forehead against mine. "So I didn't completely f.u.c.k it up?"

Gently, I stroke his cheek, and the diamond glints in the low light. "No, Cupcake. You're perfect. This ring is perfect. I love you so much."

"That's my line," he whispers, and then he kisses me again. We tumble back onto the gra.s.s, laughing softly. Gray maps the contours of my face with his lips, all the while telling me the same thing. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Twenty-Nine.

Gray

For almost two weeks, my home has been a hotel in New Orleans. I live and breathe football now. Practice, study, drills, sleep. Press junkets and mindless interviews. That's my life. The playoff game is tomorrow, and everyone is so keyed up we just want it to be game day already. No more wading through a sea of agents and scouts and sponsors. No more smiling for the camera as we eat our free gumbo dinner. No more reading playbooks and watching footage until it runs through our heads in our sleep. Just let us play football.

This is the worst it's been for me. Ivy thought that by staying away she'd help me keep focused. Not really. I've discovered that I need her with me or I feel unbalanced. I miss her so much my chest feels hollow, yet tight.

But finally she's on her way and is due to arrive in a few hours. I'm antsy as all h.e.l.l to see her. So much so that I physically have to keep moving to distract myself. One brutal workout later, and I get a text from Sean Mackenzie asking me to meet him in the hotel bar.

I've been avoiding him for a while. Mainly because Ivy and I haven't decided what to do with the pregnancy. I know what I want, but I'm not going to push Ivy. I'll state my case, but I won't push. Stepping out of the shower, I towel off and text Mackenzie to set up a time.

Because there is one thing I'm not okay with hiding from him any longer.