Tough Enough(99)
A long finger comes to rest across my lips, silencing me. “This part of my life is over. I’m ready to move on, to start something new. With you. Something where my body isn’t sore unless you make it sore.” The sparkle in his eyes and the smile on his lips bring a warm buzz to my muscles. My cheeks sting as I imagine Johns listening to our every word and rolling his eyes in displeasure.
“Well that’s about the best damn excuse for retiring that I’ve ever heard. Now kiss her and get your ass out into that cage,” Johns barks.
I risk peeking at him over my shoulder. He’s grinning at us—at least I think that’s what the expression is. He winks at me and then tips his head toward the door before he leaves us in a quick moment of peace.
“I love you, baby. With everything I am.”
“And I love you, my tough fighter. Now go win something.”
“I already won the best prize, but I guess I can throw in another little something for you.”
I smile as he kisses my knuckles and makes his way toward the door.
“Come back sore. I think I can help you out with working out the kinks.”
“I won’t be long,” he says, turning to jog out the door.
I’m standing in the same spot, staring at the last place I saw Rogan when the door flies open and bangs against the wall. Rogan makes his way to me in long, determined strides, takes me in his arms and kisses me for all he’s worth. My heart, my body, my soul sings with relief. I don’t know how he knew, but I needed this. Desperately.
When he has kissed me breathless, he leans back, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “I love your hair, by the way.”
I feel the warmth flood my cheeks. For the first time in five years, I wore it up today. It’s a loose, sexy style that I used to favor. Before. But now the only before and after I care about are before Rogan told me he loved me and after. All the many years of after. “I wanted to be tough today. For you. For me.”
“Tough looks amazing on you. I always knew it would.”
“Thank you,” I say, casting my eyes down in an old habit.
As he’s done dozens of times before, Rogan lifts my face toward his. “You never have to hide, especially from me. I love you just the way you are. Beautiful, perfect, real.”
“Thank you for fighting for me.”
“I never stopped.”
No, he didn’t. And he never will. He’s my fighter. My love. My Rogan.
EPILOGUE
Rogan
Five months later
“Good for you, Mona,” Katie says from her seat. I glance over to see her typing something into her phone.
“What’d she do? Use ‘onomatopoeia’ correctly?” I grin just thinking about Katie’s friend and her new love of the dictionary.
“No, she dumped White. She says she wants the dream now. I guess seeing how happy I am, how you treat me and how a good relationship works has made her see White for the cheating crapbag that he is.”
“Cheating crapbag, huh?”
She giggles and leans her head back against the seat to smile over at me. “I got tough, but my words are still . . . mild.”
“I think in this case, you could spare something a little tougher, don’t you?”
“Sure. Mona’s worth it,” she says, straightening. “What did you have in mind?”
“How about ‘shitbird’?”
“Yeah, White’s a shitbird!” she says enthusiastically, her eyes twinkling. “A shitty, shitty shitbird.”
I laugh outright. “God, I love you.”
Her face takes on that glow she gets when I tell her I love her. It makes me want to take her to bed and tell her over and over and over again just how much I love her.
“Damn, you’re beautiful.”
Her cheeks stain pink and she stretches across to kiss my cheek. “And you’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.” She nuzzles my neck, pressing her chest against me as she rests her hand along my thigh.
“Okay, so we have two options. Either take your wicked lips and your delicious body back over to your side of the car, or stay where you are and reap the consequences.”
“What consequences are those?” she asks around a husky laugh as she rubs her tits against my shoulder.
Damn her.
“They involve me pulling off the side of the road, putting my hands up that tiny little skirt you’re wearing and probably embarrassing the shit out of you right here in front of my friend’s house.”
She turns around, wide-eyed and surprised to see that we have arrived. “I thought you were taking me to some rustic spot in the mountains,” she says as she eyes the big stone house sitting at the top of the circular end of Chiara’s drive.