Nine Months Later
I’m on the plane with the Denver Aces, heading back home after spending a week in Canada for a couple away games. The whole team is in good spirits because they’ve been on a winning streak the beginning of this season. Even Grant had a smile on his face when he showed up to board the plane early this morning.
The travel coordinator assigned me and Noah side-by-side seats at his request as usual. He says it helps with his flying anxiety, which still hits him pretty hard sometimes. We settle in, and I give him a minute to do his pre-flight rituals while I dig a book and my headphones out of my purse.
The Aces ended up making it to the playoffs last season, and although they didn’t win the Cup, they gave a great showing and proved that they’re a team to be reckoned with. I was there in the stands for every single game, screaming my head off as I cheered for my man and my team. My family have all become a hardcore Aces fans too, joining Derek and me in obsessing about hockey. They’ve come to see several games, and my heart just about burst out of my chest the first time Noah looked up into the stands and saw all of them cheering for him.
His own parents have still never seen him play in the NHL, and he hasn’t talked to either of them since the day we went to their house and confronted his dad. It makes me doubly glad that my family has welcomed Noah in with open arms, forgiving him just like I did for the lie he told after they found out the full truth.
Brent and Gwen have divorced, and although the scandal of the affair rocked the Blakes’ family business, I’m glad for her that she got out of that toxic situation. I’m glad for Noah too. I know he misses what his family could’ve been, but I’m proud of him for standing up to his parents and for creating his own family of people who truly love him and support him.
“Fuck, my legs feel like jello,” Maxim groans, stretching out in one of the seats in front of us. He’s a big guy, although nowhere near as tall as Grant, so he doesn’t have to squash himself into the plane seat the same way our poor goalie does.
“I hear you,” Reese agrees, rubbing his shoulder. “That was a hard fought game. The Thunder are fucking good, man.”
“At least we got the W,” chimes in Theo, grinning broadly as he leans over from his seat across the aisle. “And you guys owe me dinner for that sweet pass.”
Reese rolls his eyes. “Please, you just got lucky.”
“Hey, luck is when preparation meets opportunity,” Theo counters, still grinning. “And I was definitely prepared for that one.”
The three of them keep up their friendly banter as the captain comes on the PA system and announces that we’re ready for takeoff. I reach over and thread my fingers through Noah’s, gripping his hand tightly as he breathes in and out through his nose. I wish I could distract him from his fear of flying the same way he distracted me from my fear in that elevator the first day we met, but it would be totally inappropriate on the team jet, and I know we both care about our jobs too much to risk it.
Still, next time we fly commercial, I’m totally planning to induct us both into the mile high club. Maybe a mind-blowing orgasm at thirty thousand feet will ease some of his anxieties.
Once we’re at cruising altitude, Noah relaxes a bit. He unwraps his hand from around mine, giving each of my knuckles a little kiss.
“I didn’t squeeze too hard, did I?” he murmurs.
“I told you. There’s no such thing as too hard.”
There’s a teasing lilt to my voice, and his eyes darken. I said those exact same words last night in a much different context, and I’m sure he’s remembering it right now. My inner thighs and hips sure as hell remember it, but I’ve got no regrets.
He nuzzles his face against my neck, nipping at my skin and whispering that he loves me, and I tell him I love him too before we both settle in for the rest of the flight.
It’s pretty quiet, with a lot of the players taking advantage of the chance to grab a nap. I read for a while, flipping through the pages of the Theory of Photography book that Noah got me last week to go with the new camera and equipment he bought me, but I end up falling asleep after about an hour. I wake up just as we touch down, the thump of the wheels hitting the ground making my eyes pop open.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Denver,” the captain says over the PA.
We taxi across the runway, and I sit up straighter and fix my ponytail, trying to shake off the grogginess of my nap. Noah’s fingers drum against the armrest next to me, and I glance over at him. Normally, I can see him visibly relax once we’re back on the ground, but his nerves don’t seem to have abated this time.
In fact, he looks even more nervous right now than he did when we were about to take off.
“Are you alright?” I ask.
“Oh.” He blinks, his fingers stopping. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Glad to be home, that’s all.”
“Okay,” I say, giving him a curious look. He still seems anxious and distracted, but I can’t guess why.
When he notices me studying him, he leans in and kisses me, the line between his eyebrows smoothing out. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah.”
His teammates are all starting to file off the plane, and I go to grab my headphones and book—but my headphones aren’t in the seatback pocket where I thought I left them.
“Shit,” I mutter. “Where are they?”
“Where are what?”
“My headphones. I put them in the pocket, I thought, but I can’t find them.”
“Hang on. I’ll help you look.”
Noah waves to a few of the players who were seated behind us to go ahead, and once the plane empties out a bit, we check around my seat and his. After a couple minutes of searching, Noah makes a triumphant noise.
“Ah, here we go!” He stands up, holding my headphones aloft in victory. “They must’ve fallen out of the pocket and rolled behind us.”
“Thanks.”
He hands me the headphones, and I give him a quick kiss before he grabs my bag from the overhead bin for me. We’re the last ones off the plane at this point, and Noah tells me to go ahead of him as he drags his suitcase behind us.
The door to the cockpit is open, and the captain nods to me as I pass by on my way to the stairs stationed at the exit. I step off the plane and am about to take the first step down the stairs when something in my periphery makes me look up.
I blink, doing a double-take.
Heather?
What is she doing here?
She’s standing on the tarmac near the base of the stairs with April in her arms, and as I get over the shock of seeing my sister at the airport, I realize that she’s not the only familiar face below me. My parents are standing beside her, flanked by Derek and Josh. I see Ted, Sarah, and Leo too, and the rest of the Aces who just got off the plane have gathered in a cluster at the base of the stairs instead of heading toward the parking lot with their bags.
My jaw drops, and I descend the steps quickly.
As soon as my feet hit the tarmac, I take a few steps forward, shaking my head as I look at Heather. “What are you…?”
She smiles, tears glinting in her eyes as she lifts her chin, indicating that I should look behind me. I turn around—and my heart stops.
While I was walking down the steps, the flight attendants hung a banner outside the door of the plane that reads “Noah + Margo” in big, bold letters.
And at the base of the stairs is Noah, down on one knee.
He’s holding a little velvet box in his hand, and he raises it as his gaze locks with mine.
“Margo,” he says as I take a step closer to him. “I don’t know if you know this or not, but you’ve changed everything about my life. I didn’t know who I was or what I really wanted before I met you, and now, when I think about what my life would look like if our paths hadn’t crossed, it scares the hell out of me. I thought I was perfectly happy back then, but that’s only because I didn’t know what real happiness felt like.”
He smiles, and it’s the one that he seems to reserve just for me. The warm, easy smile that lights up his whole face and makes his eyes shine with love.
“You showed me that loving someone doesn’t mean settling,” he goes on. “That it means striving. Striving to be the person they deserve, to make them happy, to build a life that the two of you can be proud of. Love isn’t a constant, fixed thing. It’s always evolving. And I know I’ll be even more in love with you in ten years than I am now.”
I press my hand to my chest as tears well in my eyes. I’m aware of my family and his team all watching us, but right now, my entire focus is on Noah. My heart thuds rapidly beneath my palm as he opens the box, revealing a breathtaking ring.
The center stone is a shimmering emerald-cut diamond set on a delicate white gold band, and the band itself is encrusted with smaller diamonds. It sparkles brilliantly in the light as he raises it a little higher.
“I want that with you.” Noah’s voice shakes, his blue eyes so full of emotion that it makes my chest ache. “I want ten years. I want fifty. I want our whole damn lives to keep falling in love with you more every day. So, Margo Lucas, will you marry me?”
I open my mouth to answer, but no words come out for a long moment. I’m crying and staring down at him, so overwhelmed with joy that I can’t even speak.
But I’m nodding. I think I started nodding before he even asked the question, my heart already so sure of the answer that my body didn’t hesitate.
Yes.
Yes.
Always, now and forever, yes.
“Yes!” The word finally bursts out of me, and relief blooms across Noah’s face. “Yes,” I say again, laughing and crying, and he takes my hand and slips the ring onto my finger.
Then he surges to his feet, pulling me into his arms and crushing his lips to mine. I go up onto my tiptoes, my arms wrapped around his neck as applause breaks out around us. When our kiss finally breaks, he presses his forehead to mine, his hands cupping my cheeks.
“Is this why you were so nervous on the plane?” I ask, finally putting the pieces together.
“Yeah,” he admits, laughing softly. “I thought I was gonna barf the entire flight back, and when we finally landed, I was so nervous my hands were shaking.”
I can feel them shaking right now, and I think mine are too, my body overloaded with emotions and adrenaline.
“We’re getting married,” I whisper, and he nods.
“Hell yeah, we are.” He kisses me again as if to seal the words, and I cling to his forearms as I kiss him back.
“Hey, Noah?” I breathe against his lips.
“Yeah?”
“Remember what you told me the day I started working for the Aces? I think maybe you were right.”
He draws back a little, his brows furrowing as he pieces together what I’m talking about. Then a blinding smile breaks out across his face, tinged with just a hint of the cocky smirk I love so much.
“I told you, Sunflower,” he murmurs. “We were meant to be.”
