It feels weird, after spending the past three months slowly watching my bank account dwindle as my money ran out, to see five figures on the screen as I take money out at the ATM. The Wildcats, understanding my predicament, gave me an advance on my signing bonus, the team President cutting me a personal check before Carrie and I left Jacksonville. I'm good to go while the paperwork winds its way through the lawyers, which are a lot more numerous than I thought there would be.

I take out two hundred bucks and tuck the cash into my wallet, then get my card. I tuck everything into my jacket and head toward campus, pulling my backpack up over my shoulder. While my contract is signed, I still have a college degree to finish up, and the Wildcats have been really understanding about that. They're trusting me to continue working with Carrie and Coach Taylor in working with my elbow and staying in playing shape, and three weeks after graduation, I'm to report to Jacksonville to do my first rookie camp.

Actually, that's the only concern I've had this whole time since being drafted. Classes are going okay. I'll get my degree, but the move to Jacksonville seems to be causing stress between Carrie and me. I don't understand why either, because I'm more dedicated to her than ever. Each time I turned around with the Wildcats, I was asking someone on the team advice on how to help Carrie adjust. The team even said they'd be willing to work with Western, if Carrie wants to do her last year as a split student. She can do the fall semester in Jacksonville, interning with the Wildcats and doing studies via distance learning, and then we can go back in the spring semester in order to let her wrap up her brick and mortar classes that she can't do in Jacksonville. The most we'd have to be apart is a month, and only if the Wildcats go deep in the playoffs.

So things should be great, but for some reason, they're not. Last night, for the first time since we moved in together, she was offish, not wanting to even cuddle on the couch. I chalked it up at the time to stress. I mean, we've both got reports and finals coming up pretty soon, but still, it's on my mind.

Walking by the Pavilion, I see Tyler Paulson. He didn't get drafted, but afterward, he got an invite to sign a contract with Toronto of the Canadian League. "Hey, Tyler. How's it going?"

"Not bad," Tyler says, waving. "Just got off the phone with the guys up in Toronto. They're sending down some stuff to help me find an apartment. No way am I moving up there full time. That city is stupid levels of expensive."

"What, you don't like T-dot girls?" I tease, and Tyler laughs.

"I hate that fucking nickname, and I haven't even moved there yet. As for the honeys, oh, that city is crazy hot, but I can do that still being a part-timer. Remember, we're now famous professional athletes!"

"Yeah well, you can enjoy that particular side for the both of us. I'm off the market."

Tyler slows, and I stop. We're next to the big statue that's outside the stadium, put up back in the seventies after the basketball team won the national title two years in a row. Tyler turns to me, a half-smile on his face. "That serious, huh?"

I nod and reach into my jacket pocket. I pull out the little black case and show Tyler the diamond ring inside. "What do you think?"

"I think that you got it too small," Tyler says after he gasps, "but I'm touched. Of course I'll be your quarterback for life, Duncan! I didn't know you thought of me that way, but—"

"Oh shut up, asshole." I laugh. "Seriously, what do you think?"

Tyler looks at the ring for a second, and his smile widens. "I think it's great, man. Question, though, and don't get pissed, I'm just asking. Is this because of the distance? J-ville's a long way from Cali, you know."

"No. At least, not all of it," I reply. "I mean, I want to be with her forever, you know what I'm saying?"

"I had two girlfriends last month while prepping for the Pro Day. I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about," Tyler jokes, then grows serious. "But it's cool if you do. I’m just not there yet, man, but when I do, I hope it's with as good a girl as Carrie. When are you going to ask?"

I shake my head, shrugging. "I don't know. I mean, I was thinking of doing it last night, but she was a bit off, just not her normal self. I guess I'm looking for the right time to ask, that's all. I just picked up the ring yesterday from the jewelers. It took me nearly two hours just to pick it out online and put the order in."

"How many game checks is it costing you?" Tyler asks, and I shrug again.

"It could cost me my entire signing bonus, and I'll count it as worth it."

"Careful, you're going to end up broke on the side of the road before you know it."

I laugh and punch Tyler in his left shoulder. "Hardly. Actually, I got some good advice and the name of a good investment banker from one of my new teammates. I figure if he's good enough to handle Troy Wood's money, he can handle mine too."

"You got to hang out with Troy Wood? I hate that guy! He picked me off twice that Western-Clement game we played him!" Tyler rebukes me with a laugh. "Don't tell me you're buddy-buddy with the guy?"

"He's a good dude. Had me over to his house to meet his wife and two kids. He let me really bend his ear, just find out what it's like as a pro. Anyway, one of the big things he advised me to do, and it makes sense after what happened to my dad, is to just live below my salary. I'm not saying the man's a tight ass, but he and his wife drive used cars, and their only real splurge is his house, which even then isn't even one year's worth of his contract. He's put away huge amounts of his income, some saved, a lot invested, and he's got a guy who's beaten the market by ten percent each of the past three years. I'm going to be giving him a call soon."

Tyler nods and chews his lip in thought. "I see. You got the man's number?"

"Yeah, back at my place. I'll email it to you. But I'm going to do the right thing for Carrie. I love her, and yeah, I want to marry her."

Tyler shakes his head in disbelief and smiles. "All right, then. It's a good ring. I'll even be nice for you and not tell her you showed me a ring. How's that?"

"Thanks. I'll see you later. I've got lunch with Carrie in about twenty, and I don't want to be late."

I head off and get to the restaurant just before Carrie and I agreed to meet up. She had a lab this morning, and I want to give her a chance to relax after a stressful morning before we start our afternoon classes. It's been kind of nice this final semester of college to actually have classes that start late and end late, with no need to duck out early to make practice.

I see Carrie walking up, and I stand up, reaching out for a hug. "Hey, how was class?"

“Terrible,” Carrie grumps, dropping into her seat. "I'm totally screwing up this damn thing. I'm maybe going to get a B if I'm lucky and pull something out of my ass for the final."

"It happens to everyone. Don't sweat it. This hasn't been an easy semester for us."

"Yeah, well, I'm not the one without any classes starting earlier than ten four days out of five," Carrie complains, then stops. "I . . . I'm sorry, Duncan. That was uncalled-for."

I shake my head, refusing to get upset. How can I, when I have a ring in my pocket? "It's nothing, Carrie. You're right. I picked this semester to be a bit lazy. I'm going to finish my degree, but the fact is that despite my admiration of learning, my main degree was the one I just got signed to do. And you helped me with it. So yeah, I'm chilling out a bit, and no, it's not fair to you that you've been doing double-duty as my trainer and trying to keep up your own studies. You're amazing that way."

Carrie stops, and suddenly, she breaks down crying. I go to reach for her, and she pushes my hands away, wiping at her eyes. "No, no . . . it's nothing. Seriously, it's nothing. Let's just have lunch."

"Carrie, it's not nothing," I say, setting aside my water glass. "You've been disturbed ever since Draft Day, really, but it's kicked into high gear since we got back from Jacksonville. What's going on?"

"Just . . . hormonal," Carrie says before wiping at her eyes. "I'm okay. I'm afraid, Duncan. I still have a year of school, and you're going to be in Jacksonville . . ."

"We can handle that," I urge her, reaching across and taking a hand. “We talked about this with the team, remember? You can do your internship with their staff, and then finish out your degree in the offseason. That's not so bad, is it?"

"I know, but there are so many challenges."

"Carrie," I interrupt her, fear taking over. “Don't say that you're having second thoughts . . . about us?"

Carrie stops, her mouth dropping open. "You . . . you think that I'm . . . Duncan, I'm not having second thoughts at all!"

"Then, what is it? Because I'm worried, Carrie. You've been pensive, moody, like you said, hormonal—"

"Duncan, I'm pregnant!"

Every person in the restaurant stops at Carrie's yell, and heads turn on a swivel to look in our direction. I'm left in a daze again, blinking stupidly at Carrie as it all falls into place. The nervousness, the mood swings, the sudden desire for insane amounts of ramen . . . all of it. "You're pregnant? You're pregnant."

"Please, Duncan, I'm not trying to gold dig on you," Carrie starts, before I cut her off with a hug and a kiss. She resists me at first, before she realizes that I'm happy, and she melts into my arms, her lips softening and her hands coming to wrap around my neck while I lift her carefully into the air. When I set her down, I can see that she's crying. "You're not upset?"

I laugh and reach into my pocket, pulling out the box inside. "How about this for an answer?"

I get down on one knee, and I can hear the intake of breath from at least half a dozen people around us, and someone on the phone saying, "Oh my God, he just got down. I think he's going to propose."

"Duncan, how . . . why . . ." Carrie starts, but I cut her off by opening the box.

"Carrie Mittel, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?"

Carrie nods, fresh tears streaming down her face, and I take her hand, sliding the platinum and diamond ring onto her finger. When it's done, the whole restaurant breaks into applause, along with a few cheers as well. Carrie looks at the ring one more time, still trying to find her voice, when someone interjects. "Hey, my sister-in-law wants to know if you say yes! Make it official!"

"Yes . . . yes!" Carrie cries out, finding her voice, smothering my face in kisses. "Oh God, yes!"

We hold each other, just letting our fears go, when Carrie chuckles. "This is a hell of a way to start lunch."

"Let's get some, shall we? Then we can get to class afterward."

Carrie nods and sits down, looking at her ring finger where her new ring sparkles. "I was so stupid, worrying about you. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. No regrets, Carrie. I've racked my head for days looking for the perfect moment to ask, when all the time, I should have just done it. I didn't have the ring then, but I would have asked you on Draft Day if I had the guts." I pick up the menu, then set it down, looking across the table at her. "So you've known a while?"

"Since Draft Day," Carrie says, looking down, ashamed. "I . . . I should have told you earlier."

She lifts her head, and when she sees my smile, she returns it, perking up. "Right, no regrets. I'm just glad I did say something."

"I think fate brought us together this way, you know?" I reply, opening the menu to decide what to order. "I mean, I seriously didn’t know about the baby. Actually, you know when I first started thinking about asking you?"

"Mission Park?" Carrie asks, and I jerk my head up, surprised. "Me too. You did go down to a knee there. Since then, you know, in those idle moments or when I've let my daydreams go a bit, I've seen it."

"Me too, although my fantasies are a bit more . . . well . . ."

Carrie laughs and gives me a look that sends warm tingles throughout my body. "Trust me. Me too."

* * *

"You really want to? It won't hurt you or anything?"

Carrie laughs and kisses me tenderly. We've decided to stay in to celebrate our engagement, relishing an evening without the stress of everyone else knowing.

"Duncan, you're an expert in football and a genius when it comes to pleasuring my body, but you don't know much about pregnancy, do you?"

"Well, I know there's a stork, and he'll come flying by somewhere around New Year's if my math is right, and then he drops the baby down a chimney, and viola! Am I close?"

Carrie rolls her eyes and chuckles. We're naked, but so far, we haven't done much more than just lay together on the sofa, and I'm enjoying the feeling of having her in my arms. "Not quite. Actually, after finding out about the baby, I did a lot of my own research online. I need to do some health-related stuff, but I can schedule that with the on-campus clinic before finals. Then over the summer, well, I guess you'll have to contact the Wildcats about adding me to your health insurance. Do they cover family?"

"I don't know. I’m sure. We'll find out, though. But it's really okay?"

"Barring complications, some of the sources I read said that we could have sex up until the eighth month . . . if you don't mind my swollen belly."

"I won't mind. Every day, you get more beautiful to me. You could have triplets in there, and that won't do anything but make you more beautiful."

"Triplets? Oh, hell no!" Carrie laughs, leaning back against my chest. "Giving birth to triplets during the playoffs? Whitney told me how distracted Troy was during the playoffs. I'd hate to imagine what you'd be like. They'd have to attach Velcro to your helmet to catch the ball!"

We lie back, taking our time. We have all night, and there's no rush, and as our hands join, I can feel the warmth spreading through my body. I lean in, and kiss the curve of Carrie's neck, tasting the soft spiciness of her skin, and cup her left breast with my hand. "Carrie?"

"Yes?"

“Join me for a shower?"

Carrie nods and turns her head, kissing me softly. “You’d better hurry, because another part of me wants to just turn over and make love to you on the couch right now."

I shift out to the side, and before Carrie can get up, I scoop her up in my arms, carrying her toward the bathroom. Carrie smiles and puts her head against my shoulder. "You know, you're the only man who's ever made me feel petite and fragile.”

I set Carrie down on her feet while I turn on the shower and the bathtub at the same time. The Vista has nice baths, and I have enjoyed the fact that my own apartment has a built-in massaging jet bathtub. "Come, let me wash your hair while the bath fills," I tell Carrie, guiding her into the shower stall. "You're giving me such an amazing gift, and I want to serve you tonight."

Carrie smiles her angelic smile and strokes my face. "You can serve me by being the strong, wonderful man you are. You don't know how good you make me feel.”

Running my fingers through Carrie's beautiful hair is sensual, erotic as I gently massage the lather into her pale golden locks, the scent of the herbal shampoo she'd gotten as a Christmas gift filling the shower stall as I rinse her off. She reaches back, her eyes closed but still finding my cock, which is hard and aching after being so close for so long. Her fingers are wet and slippery, sweet torture as she strokes me slowly, smiling as I tremble, running my hands through her hair again to rub in the conditioner. "You say you like me strong . . . yet you're doing a good job teasing me while I serve."

"Mmm, maybe I like you serving and being strong at the same time," Carrie replies. "Just like I promise to serve you."

I somehow keep control of myself as the conditioner soaks in, and I rinse it out, Carrie not letting go of my cock the entire time. We leave the shower and walk the few steps to the bath, Carrie letting me go in first before she follows, nestling between my legs. Leaning back into me, she lets her head rest on my chest, tilting her head up and back so that we can kiss. "Thank you," she whispers after our kiss. "For everything."

I reach over and take the soap in my hands. Working up a lather, I set it aside and wash her, starting with her shoulders and collarbones before working my fingers over her breasts, slipping and sliding over the smooth, beautiful skin. How a woman can have such strength as Carrie does but still have silky smooth skin is magical, in my opinion. The deep groan from her chest when I cup both of her nipples is electric, and my cock twitches under the water. "You didn't want to help me wash up at all."

"We can wash later," I promise, my hands moving in circles. I find Carrie's nipples again and lightly pinch them between my thumbs and forefingers, relishing the gasp that escapes from her lips. Every inch of Carrie is beautiful to me, but her breasts are out of this world, sensitive, perfect in shape and texture, heavy and soft. "Right now, I'm making love with my soon to be wife."

"Say it again," she whispers, her eyes closed in the haze of sensation washing over her. "Call me that again."

"My wife," I whisper in her ear. Carrie trembles, her body on the edge of coming, and I pause, kissing her. "I'm giving you a choice. You can come now, or wait for me.”

With a deep, calming breath, Carrie nods. "Take me to bed . . . my husband."

Once again, I carry her through the apartment, wrapped in a towel to lay her on our bed. Setting her down, I gently unwrap the cotton from around her, smiling at her little pose. "Beautiful."

Carrie spreads her legs, urging me between them, and I line myself up, pausing. "What is it?"

I smile and tease the tip of my cock between her lips, rubbing it up and down, over her clit before nestling it at her entrance again. "It just . . . has a lot of meaning now, more than ever before."

"I know," Carrie answers, reaching down and taking my hand. "Sexy, isn't it?"

I push in, my cock sinking into her. Our fingers interlock, palms together as I finish sliding all the way inside her. We stay that way for a moment, the beauty of the meaning not lost on either of us before I pull back and slip inside again.

Carrie takes it all and gives it back, giving herself to me while demanding everything from me. We let the speed and pace be dictated only by our own desires, our eyes locked on each other even as our hands never part. When I lean down to kiss her, pushing our hands over her head so that I can still keep our loving grip, her lips are amazingly soft and loving. My hips speed up, faster and faster. I give myself to her, the only sounds in the bedroom the thunder of our hearts, the gasp of air in our lungs, and the sharp slapping sound of my hips driving my cock over and over again deep into her. We are both pushing, reaching that peak which only Carrie has ever brought me to, an intensity that captures my heart, body and soul in one instant.

"Duncan," Carrie gasps, her voice failing her. She's so close . . . only a few more seconds.

"Carrie!" I cry, my cock erupting. Coming with Carrie is something I'll never be able to fully explain, except that it moves my soul, and I'm groaning as I give myself fully to this woman, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.

Afterward, Carrie lays on top of me, her head on my chest, her right hand lazily tracing my stomach muscles. "I've missed that."

"Never again . . . well, except for months eight and nine," I hum, rubbing her shoulder.

"Oh, the things I'll sacrifice to become a mother and wife," she mock laments, reaching down and taking my now soft cock in her hand. "It's going to be such a hard life."

"Keep that up, and it will be." I sigh happily as she pumps me slowly. It hasn't been long enough for me to be ready again, barely ten minutes, but it still feels wonderful.

"Actually, I just had a thought," Carrie says, her hand pausing. "We've got some people to tell about this and some decisions to make."

"Oh, our friends might be a bit surprised, but I doubt any will be all that shocked. And for school, where we'll live in Jacksonville and how—"

"Actually, I meant my parents." Carrie laughs lightly. "Don't you think we should tell them?"

I stick out my lower lips, nodding thoughtfully. "Good point. Okay, let's fly them down and break the news to them, and we can discuss the other stuff when my mind isn't somewhere else."

"Oh, you mean here?" Carrie asks as she shifts down, licking her lips before kissing the tip of my now rapidly-swelling cock.