Sometimes practices run late, and I hate it. But tonight’s not one of those nights, because I need something—anything—to keep me from thinking about Riley. And her engagement party.

“Coach Collins.” George Smith, our new sophomore transfer, calls my name. “Can you stay a few minutes after conditioning to help me work on my free throws?”

I glance at the clock. It’s almost seven o’clock. Riley will soon be celebrating her upcoming wedding. To Bill Lewg. A fucking multimillionaire property investor with a squeaky clean record—I checked. I paid the upgrade fee for the extensive, extra thorough check, and everything came back A-OK, not even a goddamn unpaid parking ticket. As far as I could tell, this guy was a saint. And perfect for Riley in every fucking way.

Except for one tiny fact: he wasn’t me.

“Coach?” Smith’s voice calls me again.

I clap a hand on his back. “Sure thing. I can stay as long as you need.”

* * *

It’s quiet and a little cool as I make my way from the driveway to my front porch. I contemplated hitting the bar for a few drinks, because I could use something to ease this ache inside, but those days of my life were over. Or at least I hoped they were. Besides, a small part of me, the masochistic part, wanted to sit alone and indulge in the misery.

My head is bent over my phone, so I almost miss the figure lying on the porch swing. Almost.

For a moment, I’m sure I’m dreaming.

“Riley?” I pause halfway up the steps and call her name, but she’s asleep. I continue up the stairs and stop in front of the bench swing, where she lies curled on her side. On the ground beside her is a large tote bag and a pair of Chucks. I nudge her shoulder and say her name again, softer. “Riley. Baby, what are you doing here?”

She ignores my question, but stands up to face me. “I love you.”

Her words catch me so off guard that I take a step back and stumble over one of her sneakers. I brace my hand on the railing to catch myself from falling.

“I love you,” she continues. “I never stopped.” Her eyes implore mine. “I want to be with you. I want to fight with you. And make up with you. I want to build a life with you. I want to grow old with you.” She pauses for a breath, looks up from beneath her lashes. “I want to have your babies.”

I blink my eyes. Once. Twice. Is this real?

There’re so many questions, so many emotions pumping through my mind, but all that can wait. Right now, I have to kiss her. I drop the duffle bag from my shoulder and it thumps to the floor. I grab her face with both hands and press my lips to hers. Gentle, yet forceful. In this moment, I want her to know two things…that she’s precious, but also that she’s mine.

“Jesse,” she whispers against my lips.

“Riley,” I say, voice awestruck. “You came back.” My lips press kisses to her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks. “You came back to me.”

“My heart never left you,” she whispers as she drags her fingers through my hair.

I lean back, cradle her face with my hands. “And Bill?” I hate to even speak his name, but I have to know she’s mine.

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “It’s over. I ended it.”

“Why?” My eyes search hers. “What happened?”

“What happened is…” She takes both my hands in hers, kisses one palm, then the other, “…I’m still in love with you.” She drops both of her hands to my waist and squeezes. “I never stopped loving you.”

“Baby,” I whisper, trailing my nose along her neck, inhaling that citrusy lemon smell that I missed so much. “I’m afraid this isn’t real. I’m afraid to touch you. Afraid this is all a dream.” I don’t try to disguise the vulnerability in my voice, don’t think I could even if I wanted to.

“I’m real.” She looks into my eyes. “And I want you to touch me.” She places my hands over her breasts. “Please, touch me.”

“Fuck.” I close my eyes as my fingers knead the soft flesh. It’s been too fucking long. I forget that we’re outside. Or that I have nosy neighbors. Or that anyone exists beyond her. My lips latch onto her neck, and my hands work their way inside her shirt, tug down the soft cup of her bra. I roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck, Jesse.” Her arms wrap around my torso and pull me closer. “Fuck,” she curses again, as I lick a slow line across her collarbone and my fingers find her other breast.

She grinds against me, the friction damn near explosive, and before I’ve even had time to process what’s happened, her body convulses, shudders in my embrace, and her head hangs heavy on my shoulder.

“Baby.” I kiss across her jaw, hold her close and feel her erratic heartbeat against mine. “Baby, did you just come?”

I feel her head move against my shoulder, a slow nod: yes.

She lifts her head. “It’s been so long. And with the curse…”

I pull away. “The curse?”

She nods, but then dips her head in embarrassment. “Your curse. When you said I would never be able to orgasm without you. It’s been over a year, and…”

My mouth hangs open, but I quickly shut it.

“I just…” She drags her fingers across my chest, and even through my t-shirt, the sensation is delicious. “I really needed that.”

I lean forward, hover my lips above the shell of her ear. “It sounds like we have a lot of making up to do.”

She agrees. “This was a good start.”

I chuckle as I sweep her off the ground and over my shoulder. I slap her ass once as I kick open the front door. “Baby, we’re just getting started.”

And we are.

This is our chance at happiness.

This is our chance at friendship and love.

This is our chance at forever.