With the last empty box in my hands, I tossed it into the hallway with the rest of the cardboard that needed to be taken out to the trash.
Today was a big day for my best friend.
I stood outside of the room watching Quinn put the final, finishing touches on what would be Cat’s new home office.
A picture frame on her new desk.
Paintbrushes near the art easel by the window.
The final heartfelt, thoughtful details that proved his love.
A perfectionist to his core, he had spared no detail or expense. Everything inside of this room had been thoughtfully chosen and planned out.
And he’d done it all with Cat in mind.
If that wasn’t love, I didn’t know what was.
“You think she’s going to like it?” he asked, walking toward the doorway where I stood. He turned to take in the finally finished room, and I didn’t miss the big-ass, love-inspired smile on his face.
He was a goner. A total fucking goner for his girl.
“Well, I hope so considering we’ve spent the last God knows how many fucking hours getting it ready,” I teased and he chuckled.
“True story.”
I gave him a hearty pat to the shoulder. “Don’t worry, QB, she’s going to love it.”
I’d watched Quinn and Cat’s relationship blossom and grow over the past several months, and today, together, they were taking a huge step. It was official move-in day, and from here on out, Quinn and Cat would be living together.
Not to mention, my best friend had another huge surprise up his sleeve.
One that included a diamond engagement ring.
It was all part of his big plan.
And I’d spent the past few days helping him execute it.
“Fuck,” he muttered and looked over at me. “I’m nervous.”
That made me grin. “I think that’s pretty normal, dude. You’re about to ask her to marry you.”
“Yeah,” he said, and his eyes turned soft. “She’s the one, Sean. She’s the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
I hated that his words made my chest hurt.
I was happy for him, obviously, but that happiness didn’t make it any easier to watch.
If anything, it made it even more real that all of the things he had with Cat were what I had wanted with Six.
Still want with Six.
Internally, I grimaced.
You’d think I’d be over it by now.
You’d think I would have long since moved on.
You’d think that I, the guy who had been nicknamed the playboy manwhore, would have had at least one fucking hookup since Six had ended things.
You’d fucking think that would be the case.
But, sadly, it wasn’t.
Hell, I’d given it the old college try. I’d even attempted to find a random fuck for the night, but I couldn’t follow through.
And more than that, my dick couldn’t even get hard.
What a fucking mess.
“You have nothing to worry about, QB. She’ll say yes. And you’ll get your happily ever after with the fucking mansion and white picket fence and future quarterback kids. And you know what?”
“What?”
Another hearty pat to his shoulder. “I’m happy for you.”
The words shouldn’t have felt heavy on my tongue, but they were.
He was a man who’d found the woman of his dreams and didn’t have a care in the world, and I wanted that.
I wanted that so bad I could fucking taste it.
Before Six, I hadn’t realized I needed that.
But I did. I needed it.
And even though I was happy for my best friend, I was miserable too. Miserable that I was pining for a woman who didn’t want anything more than a fucking fling with me, the fucking manwhore.
The irony of that situation wasn’t lost on me.
“Thanks, man. That means a lot.” Quinn grinned. “And thanks for helping me.”
“Anytime,” I responded. “I know you’d do the same for me.”
“Honestly, I never thought I’d see the day when Sean Phillips would help me get everything ready to propose to my girlfriend. Even offering up some swoony fucking suggestions in the process. I had no idea you had it in you, to be honest.”
“Huh?” I questioned and furrowed my brow. “What do you mean by that?”
His grin grew wider. “Let’s face it, before a certain someone, you would have already been MIA by now. But here you are, making sure everything is perfect. Hell, I probably would’ve had to beg Teeny to bring his big ass over here and help carry that huge desk in. Which, no doubt, with his giant, clumsy self, would’ve ended up leaving holes in the drywall.”
He had a point about Teeny. The man had the strength of ten men, but goddamn was he like a bull in a fucking china shop. There was nothing gentle or easy about him.
But everything else Quinn had said felt like total bullshit.
“A certain someone?” I questioned, and those three stupid words provided visuals of a gorgeous brown gaze and wild hair flashing behind my eyes.
Or maybe it wasn’t that his words were bullshit, but they revolved around the one thing, the one fucking person, I was trying so goddamn hard not to think about.
“You know exactly who I’m talking about,” Quinn answered instantly, and I waved him off with a disagreeing hand.
“Oh, come on,” I responded, and I couldn’t hide the annoyance in my voice. “She has nothing to do with this—or anything else, for that matter.”
He raised an eyebrow in my direction. “Are you sure about that?”
No, I wasn’t, but that didn’t mean he had to know that.
“How about you focus on getting Cat to say yes, and I’ll handle my own shit, okay?” I tossed back, and he just smiled knowingly.
Fuck, I knew he was only teasing me, but it was striking a nerve.
A big-ass nerve, at that.
Instead of getting into a verbal pissing match with him, I chose to take the high road, the smart road, and distract myself.
“I’m going to take those boxes down to the garage,” I said by way of ending the conversation. “I’m assuming Cat will be here soon.”
Considering I’d just heard him talk to her no less than fifteen minutes ago, and she had been en route, it was safe to say she’d be here soon.
He glanced at his watch and nodded. “Any minute now.”
“All right,” I said and walked into the hallway. “I’ll work on getting all the cardboard and trash out of the hallway and spare bedroom.”
“And what am I supposed to do?” he asked, and I couldn’t not smirk at him over my shoulder.
“Get your fucking game face on, son,” I said. “It’s almost proposal time. And then, once she says yes, it’s motherfucking championship time.”
We were only a few days out from the big game against Dallas, and I was ready to get back on the field. It was the one place I still felt in control of my life
A man on a mission, I walked into the hallway, grabbed the stack of cardboard, and proceeded to carry it into the garage.
By the time I came back into the house and was inside the spare bedroom gathering the rest of the empty boxes, I heard Cat’s arrival.
Even though I was trying to give them their privacy, their voices echoed throughout the big house and made it impossible for my ears not to hear their every word.
Cat sounded happy, excited, and well, like a woman who was desperately in love with Quinn. I heard the love in her voice when she said hello, and I didn’t miss the very same thing in his when he started to take her through the house and show her all of the personal touches he’d added.
When they reached the upstairs, I heard her gasp of surprise, and I knew she’d finally seen her new office.
“Did you do all of this?” she asked, and her voice carried straight to my ears.
“I did,” Quinn responded, and pride rang loud and clear in his voice. “Without any help either.”
What a dick. I’d been helping him for what felt like the past week getting all of this shit together.
“Fuck that!” I shouted toward the hallway. “I helped!” I added, and I couldn’t hold back my raucous laughter.
And then, as I stared down at the pile of cardboard in the center of the spare bedroom, I decided the credit-stealing bastard could finish cleaning up his own mess.
I’d more than done my share.
Not to mention, I wasn’t sure how much lovey-dovey bullshit I could tolerate with thoughts of Six attempting to consume my brain like a wildfire.
Without a second thought, I strode out of the room, jogged down the steps, and marched out the front door, pulling it closed with a loud bang behind me.
I hopped into my Jeep, clicked on the engine, and turned out of Quinn’s driveway in the direction of my house.
But I didn’t even reach the gated entrance before a text notification pinged.
“Text message from Teeny,” Siri announced through the speakers.
I clicked the accept button on the steering wheel and let Siri read the message to me through the speakers of the Jeep.
“Dude. You need to watch the latest live video Six posted on her vlog,” Siri stated robotically. “Homegirl is talking about you.”
What?
Before I even knew what I was doing, I slammed on my brakes and pulled off to the side of the road.
With uncharacteristically fumbling hands, I grabbed my phone from the dock and pulled up Teeny’s message to read it with my own eyes. Surely, Siri had fucked it up somehow.
Teeny: Dude. You need to watch the latest live video Six posted on her vlog. Homegirl is talking about you.
My phone pinged again in my hands.
With a follow-up text, he even provided a direct link to the video in question.
My heart started racing inside my chest, and I had no idea why.
Hell, my lungs even joined in and grew tight with anxiety.
I had no idea what was in the video, but I had to find out.
With one quick click to the link, my phone’s screen rerouted to some random gossip website, and there, on my screen, was Six’s face. Apparently, per the now-viral article, she had posted this video last night. And although she had recently deleted it from her YouCam profile, it had stayed live for a good ten hours.
Jesus. What in the fuck is in this thing?
I tapped play and braced myself for the unknown.
Wild curls messily piled on top of her head, eyes red-rimmed and highlighted by shadowed remnants of mascara, she looked like a beautiful fucking disaster.
And after hearing all of four words come out of her pretty little mouth, I knew she was drunk, too.
She started into a ramble, talking to no one in particular, and honestly, hardly even looking at the screen.
First, it was about her period.
Then, she switched to penises.
And at one point, while rambling about a combination of the two, she started shoving Doritos into her mouth, crunching loudly into the camera.
But then…the mood shifted.
“I love Sean Phillips, guys,” Six said, her voice a half slur, half whimper. “I love Sean Phillips. And his penis, which used to be my penis. I don’t think I want to love him because he isn’t the kind of guy who settles down, but I can’t help it. I love him.”
My heart started pounding wildly at her words.
I had thought she was done with me, but mere hours ago, she had said she loved me.
She loves me?
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was an adorable fucking mess. And my heart grew ten sizes inside my chest.
God, I miss her.
With big, huge tears streaming down her cheeks, she continued, “I miss him, you guys. I miss him so much. And I’m going to have to see him again soon, and it’s going to hurt so bad. I’m tired of my heart hurting because of Sean Phillips and his perfect penis.”
The video didn’t last much longer. But I watched until the very end, which was basically a point where Six got too tired and abruptly hit stop on her video.
Holy fucking shit.
Eyes wide and jaw damn near in my lap, I stared out the windshield of my Jeep trying to process what I’d just seen.
I had an underlying feeling she hadn’t really meant to record that video, but accident or not, thank fuck she had.
Now that I knew… Now that I’d heard her say that four-letter word, I’d do everything in my power to get her back.
Because not only did she love me, I loved her too.
I wanted her.
I needed her.
And we fucking belonged together.
I silently thanked everything for the fact that the Mavericks organization had hired her back to create one final episode of the series. We’d gotten the notification via an email from Georgia late last night with the news that Six would be joining us for a finale piece at the championship game, and at the time, I’d felt nothing but dread.
But now…now, it felt like fate. Destiny.
With a deep breath, I put the Jeep back into drive, and all the while, I started to mentally prepare myself for the two biggest games of my life.
The championship.
And Six.
The first was important—hell, it was the most important game of my career thus far. But the second, well, it meant the most. It would make or break me.
Even though my heart was about to be on the line and I didn’t have any fucking control over the end result, I knew what I needed to do.
I pick Six.
All day, every day, for the rest of fucking time, I pick her.