I sit in the large overstuffed chair beneath the window, watching Emma curled up in the comforter, sound asleep. I listen to her soft, steady breathing, which seems to mix perfectly with the sound of crashing waves upon the shore outside.

Moonlight slants in through the windows, making her cool, alabaster skin seem to sparkle and glow. She looks like an angel with her dark hair fanned out around her on the pillow in my bed. I can't get over how exquisitely beautiful she is.

I look out the window, watching the foamy shore break come up the sand. The night air is cool, and the taste of salt is heavy in the air.

When I think about anything happening to Emma, it not only fills me with a profound sense of despair but a rage so hot and deep that I've never felt anything like it before. If Carlyle Hawkins lays a finger on her, I'm going to kill him with my bare hands. Damn the consequences.

It all seems beyond crazy. Bizarre, even. But, not all that long ago, we were spitting fire at each other. We hated each other. And yet, here we are, Emma in my bed, me watching over her as an incredibly rich depth of emotion for her wells up inside of me. When I think of something happening to her, and how my life would be without her now, I feel empty. Totally hollow. My life wouldn’t be the same – nowhere close to it – without Emma Simmonds.

Does that mean I love her?

I don't know. I can't say I've ever been in love before, but I suppose that's what these feelings are.

Ever since Emma waltzed back into my life, I've been a mess. My whole world has been turned upside down, and I never seem to think clearly or logically anymore. And that's not a bad thing. Before reconnecting with Emma, I felt stagnant. Trapped. Bored and restless. Everything was the same, day after day, and I was exhausted with the daily tedium of my life.

Now though, with Emma in my world, things are changing. Damn, are they changing. And most of those changes are for the better. At least, I'd like to believe so.

With Emma, I feel like I have a new lease on life. I feel an energy and a vigor that's been missing for so long. I feel a deep, burning passion inside of me I thought was long dead.

It's for all those reasons and more that I will fight to the last to keep her safe. I'll lay down my life to make sure she's protected if I have to. I will give my last breath to make sure no harm comes to her. Emma Simmonds is a precious existence to me. She's special. She's touched and moved me in ways no other woman ever has before. And I want to make sure she has everything she could ever want in life.

If that's what love is, then yeah, I guess I'm in love with her.

“Can't sleep?”

I look over and find her staring at me. Her onyx-colored eyes glint like dark jewels in the moonlight.

“Not really,” I say.

“You okay?”

I nod. “Yeah,” I say. “I'm good. More importantly, are you okay?”

A faint smile touches her lips. “Yeah,” she says softly. “I'm good.”

“You're a terrible liar, you know.”

“That makes two of us,” she says.

“Want to talk about it?” I ask.

“Come back to bed.”

I stand up and walk back to the bed, laying down beside her. Emma rolls over and puts her head on my chest. She trails her fingertips along my skin, tracing my tattoos idly. Her hair is soft and silky as I run my fingers through it. I stare up at the ceiling, trying to sort out my feelings.

The potential of losing her flashes through my mind again, and it's almost unbearable. It sends a lance of pain straight through me. I can't lose Emma. I won’t have to. I will fight to the death for her. She's mine. I'm hers. Period. End of story.

“Does this – us – scare you?” I ask.

“A little,” she admits.

“Why?”

“It's all so unexpected,” she explains. “I never saw this coming. I've been so angry at you for so long, and to have – this – it's kind of turned my world upside down.”

A soft, rueful chuckle passes my lips. “Tell me about it,” I say. “Not that I was ever angry at you or anything –”

“I know what you mean,” she says. “Does it scare you?”

“More than anything in my life.”

“Why?”

Somehow, the darkness brings out truths that can’t be revealed during the light of day. There's something comforting about being able to speak into the dark – like it has some magical power that can absolve you of your sins, and allow you to speak your truth without fearing the consequences.

But, with Emma, I feel safe. I know I won't be judged. That she'll accept me – faults, flaws, warts and all. With Emma, I feel safe to be myself.

It's such a simple thing – being able to be you – and yet, so few people live their truth. I had to learn to wear masks pretty early on. Being the college and NFL star, the public expects something of you. They expect you to be a certain way. Demand it, really. And if you don't give it to them, you're ridiculed for it.

I found that it's much the same when working as an agent. The people you represent expect everything from you. They expect you to be their therapist, best friend, and family. For you to be available for them around the clock, regardless of what's going on in your personal life.

In both roles, player and agent, I found that people expect you to not only live up to their ideals and expectations of you, but to not be a real person at all. You're expected to strip down your identity and conform to whatever – thing – they need you to be in that moment.

With Emma though, I feel like I can be real. Like I can be myself. And that's okay. That's enough. It's such a strange, foreign concept that I don't really know what to make of it.

Emma lays there with her head on my chest, listening to me put that all into words. All I can hope is that she understands, and hears the gratitude in my voice.

“Thank you,” she says softly.

“For what?”

“For opening up to me,” she says. “For letting me behind those high walls you surround yourself with. For letting me see the real you.”

“And that doesn't make you want to run off into the night screaming?”

“Hardly,” she says. “If anything, it brings me closer to you.”

“Is that what you want?”

She nods. “More than anything.”

“Good,” I say, as I stroke her hair. “Because that's exactly where I want you.”

We lay in silence for a few moments, adjusting to this new reality between us. A reality where, I guess, we're a couple. It hasn't been explicitly stated, but are these things ever? I mean, I guess some people run to Facebook and change their status, but I'm not that kind of guy. In fact, I've never been a relationship kind of guy, so I don't exactly know how it works. As strange as that is for a thirty-nine-year-old man to say, it's the truth.

I don't know that we necessarily need to put a label on it right now. That tends to add pressure where there doesn't need to be. I think it's known between us that she's mine, and I'm hers. And for now, that's enough.

“Are you afraid of Hawkins?” I ask.

She nods again. “Yeah,” she says. “A little.”

“Only a little?”

“I know you'll protect me.”

I put my fingers beneath her chin and lift her head up so she's looking at me. “With my life,” I say. “If it comes down to it, I will protect you with my last breath.”

“I hope it never does.”

“It won't,” I say.

“You sound so certain.”

“I am,” I reply. “Just know that I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Emma. I will keep you safe.”

“I believe you.”

“Good.”

We lay together in the silent stillness of the night for a few more moments before she stirs. She lifts herself up, flashing me a seductive, flirty smile. She brushes a few loose strands of hair from her face, biting her bottom lip. Without a word, she reaches out and grabs hold of my cock, squeezing it tightly through my boxers. It almost instantly starts coming to life, hardening beneath her touch. I let out a soft sigh of pleasure as she strokes me through the thin fabric, a bottomless pool of desire welling up within me.

I open my mouth to say something, but Emma puts her finger to my lips to silence me. She shakes her head, continuing to touch me through my boxers. She leans over and opens the top drawer of my nightstand, fishing out one of the condoms inside. Quickly tearing open the wrapper, she pulls it out, and I lift my hips, helping her slide my boxers down my thighs.

Leaning over me, she licks the tip of my cock, sending a spasm of pleasure shooting through me. Then she rolls the condom all the way down, squeezing and stroking my dick as she goes. The task complete, she slips out of the lacy boy shorts she's wearing and straddles me.

Her eyes are filled with the rawest, purest desire I've ever seen. She kisses my mouth, guiding the tip of my cock to her opening, and rubbing her clit with it, moaning softly. I open my mouth again – and again, she silences me with a finger pressed to my lips.

Emma positions herself above me, parting her lips with the head of my cock. Slowly, she lowers herself down on me, taking me deep inside of her. We both moan softly, as she starts to rise and fall on my cock. She plants her hands firmly against my chest for leverage, moving her hips, grinding herself against me, taking me impossibly deep inside. Her movements are slow and sensual, making my cock grow even harder. I run my hands up and down her body, relishing the feel of her smooth, flawless skin under my fingertips.

Emma throws her head back, her sigh of pleasure soft, but intense. She leans forward again, her hair spilling down around us like a curtain. It's just the two of us, the rest of the world blocked out entirely.

I cup her breasts, gently kneading them as she continues to ride me. My body is awash in sensation, the pleasure running through me like a river.

Her lips are parted, a silent scream of pleasure written all over her face. I want to open my mouth, to cry out, and moan out loud. The pleasure is so intense that it's bringing me to the brink faster than I've ever gotten there before. Emma won't let me make a sound, though. She looks down at me, her lips parted, her breathing ragged, but silent otherwise.

As I move my hips upward, Emma thrusts downward, taking me deeper inside of her. Her entire body tenses and begins to tremble as the muscles inside of her begin to clench and unclench around me.

Emma throws her head back as her body vibrates on top of me, but she remains silent. My cock pulses deep inside of her, shooting thick streams of come into the condom as Emma takes it all. She's gripping my hands tight, squeezing hard, as the intensity of her orgasm overwhelms her.

Slowly, we come down from the sex high, and our breath explodes from our throats. She falls forward, pressing her forehead to mine. Her dark, smoldering eyes bore into mine, and there is a look of absolute bliss and contentment on her face.

“I love you, Brice Kelly,” she says.

“I love you too,” I reply.

There was a time – not all that long ago – when uttering those words was unthinkable to me. Things change though. Emma came storming into my life, tearing through it like a tornado through a trailer park. She turned everything in my world on its head – but, I like it. I'm embracing it. I'm adapting and rolling with the changes.

And one of those changes is expressing exactly how I feel to Emma.

Still straddling me, Emma lays her head down on my chest. I wrap my arms around her and stroke her hair as we bask in the afterglow and the energy created by those three words. We lay there in perfect silence, content and satiated, until sleep finds us both.