The first time attending a real pro party full of football players is always intimidating. It’s made more so when you’re the new girl— even if you do have a dress that costs more than your first car to wear for the occasion.

“You look absolutely stunning,” Sebastian says as I make my way downstairs. The fact that I manage to do so without falling is a real feat, both because of the heels I’ve got on and because of the staircase itself. The hardwood steps are still sleek and new, as is most everything in this house. I still can’t quite believe I live here— in Texas, but also in a house like this. Sebastian purchased it the moment he got his signing check— and then asked me to move into it with him. It’s still half empty, since neither of us had remotely enough furniture to fill it, but we will, in time.

“Are you sure you don’t just want me to wear your jersey?” I ask playfully, carefully making my way off the final step.

“That’s an option?” he asks, looking astounded.

I shove at him and he doesn’t budge. “Promise me we won’t stay out crazy late, though. I still have class tomorrow.”

“Terrible idea,” he says, then lifts me from the ground to kiss me. His lips are hard on mine, wanting, and before I can stop myself I’m wrapping my arms around his neck and hiking my legs up to his waist.

“You’re going to destroy my makeup, you know,” I whisper as he abandons my lips and kisses down my chest, to the hem of the fabric.

“You have more,” he says, nudging the material over one breast aside and sucking my nipple into his mouth. I moan in delight, and am about to wiggle my other breast free when the doorbell rings.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Sebastian mutters, setting me down. “The one time he’s here early?”

I laugh and fix my clothing, then try to repair the damage to my lipstick. Sebastian strides to the door and lets Conor in. He’s wearing a sharp suit that I’m sure cost a fortune— but hey, NFL players can afford these things, I suppose. I can tell that Conor knows what he’s interrupted by the snarky grin on his face. I glower at him as he rounds the corner into our main room.

“You look great,” he says, motioning to me. “Though your lipstick is smudged, did you know?”

“I had an idea,” I say, shaking my head at him. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he answers, looking nervous— and unashamed to be so.

“We’ll be fine,” Sebastian says, slapping him on the back. “Right, Ashlynn?”

“I mean, I’ll be fine. I’ll be a woman at a party surrounded by millionaire football players,” I say, giving Sebastian a teasing smile. “As for you two? No idea.”

“This is why I don’t bring dates,” Conor says with a glance in my direction— but he’s only kidding me. Conor and I get along now— mostly. I can tell there’s still a side of him that’s bitter I took his partner in crime away for a serious relationship, especially since things sort of fizzled between him and Sarah, but I can also tell he appreciates how happy Sebastian and I make each other. Besides, now that we’re three Berkfield transplants in Texas, we sort of have to stick together. Texans are seriously intimidating to outsiders, after all.

Sebastian’s phone chimes just as we’re heading for the door, and without meaning to, I see it’s Carson. Sebastian pockets the phone without answering it, though he meets my eyes as he does so. His brothers and his mother have been calling and texting nonstop, lately, because Dennis Slate’s trial is about to start. As far as I know, they’re still convinced of his innocence, and despite the fact that I get along with them well enough, I know they’re wary that I’m stealing Sebastian away to my “side” when it comes to the court case. It’s hard to blame them— it’s what half the tabloids say I’m up to, and the blogs, and the newspapers. Of course, the other half of the tabloids say that Sebastian is the one playing games, and that he’s with me only to get my family to drop the civil case.

None of them get it right, of course: That we’re together because we love each other, and that everything else is just background noise.

The three of us walk outside to the limo in the drive and slide into the seats. The party isn’t far, and as we pull up, I can see the entire building has been decked out in their new team’s colors. There’s an honest-to-god red carpet out front, and a large handful of paparazzi that swarm our car as we arrive. I exchange a look with Sebastian, one that’s equal parts nervous and thrilled.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Conor says as the car rolls to a stop. He jumps out before the driver has a chance to open his own door. Conor smiles and waves, but walks quickly up to the doors, eager to get away from the sea of flashbulbs as quickly as possible. I take a breath, and am amount to scoot down so I can climb out next when Sebastian grabs my hand in his.

“What?” I ask, surprised at the firmness of his grip.

He smiles, then pulls me toward him; for a moment, I think I might topple over in the seat, but he catches me— just like he always does. He kisses me again, this time delicately, doing his best not to ruin my freshly applied lipstick. “See? I can be careful,” he says to me under his breath. “But Ashlynn? You’ve got to know that as soon as we get home, that dress is coming off.”

I smile, then lean forward and kiss him— hard, because honestly? I don’t care if it messes up my makeup. “I’m counting on it,” I whisper back.

And I know that despite everything, this is truly just the beginning for us.