It seems like finally, after months of stress and people bothering us, we're allowed to breathe.

They banned Hass from the NFL, and Mike is working on assault charges for the stunt he pulled on me. I was lucky, considering I only suffered a concussion, but still—it made me think of the dangers of this career.

That's why I'm here now with Mila, on the roof of our little house. It might not be the rooftop terrace I had on my apartment, but it's something. As long as Mila's here with me, I'll have the most stunning view in the universe.

"Peanut..." Mila groans, and I immediately rub my palm over her belly, trying to soothe our baby.

"Come on, little bean. Give your mommy a break," I whisper, and Mila smiles when she moves closer, her back resting against my chest as she gets comfortable between my legs.

I'm already convinced this child will be a firecracker; the way it's kicking and tossing all day shows it'll keep us on our toes. It's fascinating, but unfair too—I can feel it whenever I want to, while Mila perceives this every second of every goddamn day.

"Our little one will be a lot of work," she mutters, heaving a sigh when I place my head on her shoulder, intertwining our fingers on her stomach.

"Maybe I should take the next season off too."

She tilts her head to look at me. "No. Definitely not."

"No?"

"No." She turns a little, sprawling her legs over my lap with a smile. "Baby, you already put your career on hold last season. I don't want you to miss out on much more. You're way too good at what you do to not do it."

I study her for a second, trying to figure out if she's saying this to make me happy or if she's really convinced. I thought she'd be happier about this than she looks right now.

"Don't look at me like that," she says.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm saying I don't want you home. You know I do."

"Then why fight me on this?" I ask, although I believe her. I know how much she loves me and wants me close.

Mila just studies me as she plays with the hair at the back of my head. It's such a simple movement, but I absolutely love it. "I might not be an expert," she says, "but when I saw you on the field last week...it's where you belong, Hayden. It's where you should be. It fulfills you, and this sport simply needs you. Because holy hell, everyone in that stadium could see how excellent you are."

I don't know why, but when she says it, her proud eyes gazing into mine, I feel really fucking satisfied. Even if she's not an expert, she's my woman, and to me, her opinion is the one that matters most.

"I just...I don't want to miss anything," I admit. And it's true. Besides the risk of my career and the fact that I miss Mila every second of every damn day, I also know I'll be busy. Seeing my kid grow up will be difficult with the travel.

"Would you feel better if we came with you everywhere?"

Her question makes me blink a few times. We've talked about this, about our baby having a safe home. It's another reason I don't want to travel so much. "I don't want our peanut to be restless."

She just smiles, running her fingers through my hair as she studies me so intensely, I think she's actively trying to steal my breath.

"It won't be an issue for the first couple of years. We can arrange stuff, make sure our little one has their own crib and toys and stuffed animals so they feel at home wherever we are. In the end, the most important thing is we're with our little peanut, right? Of course, we'll have to watch how it works out. But I already know neither of us would do anything to hurt this baby. As soon as they're not happy, I'll go back home. We did that before—we can do it again."

If I hadn't asked her to marry me already, I'd ask her again right now. Because shit, this woman makes my head spin with the way she handles things. Pregnancy gave her a new sense of self-assurance; she just glows with pride now. I already know she'll be one hell of a mother, that she'll do anything to protect our baby from harm. It's such a stunning look, I literally cannot stop staring at her.

"How do I even deserve you?"

"You deserve this and more, Cash. You deserve the world." She beams as she runs her fingers through my hair, the conviction and happiness in her voice making my heart soar.

"Well, you are the world to me, so I guess I got that." I grin when she shakes her head with a laugh, her cheeks filling with color.

"My God, you are so damn sappy sometimes."

"You secretly love it, Lucky," I tease, and she just giggles, sending my heart to heaven and back from the sound of it.

She lifts her head to regard me, one hand scratching my jaw while she whispers, "I do."

I can see it in her eyes too. They're so mesmerizing, it's physically impossible to look away from them. The way they glimmer when she studies me, like she's finding comfort in the sole act of looking at me...it's the most beautiful thing ever.

"Hayden?" Our gazes lock when she speaks again, her movements slowing while I keep caressing her baby bump.

"Yes, love?" I ask, and she keeps gazing straight into my soul, her big doe eyes searching for something particular, something I can't quite place.

"Marry me," she suddenly whispers, and I can't help but chuckle in response, watching the sincerity dance in her eyes.

"I'm pretty sure I already asked that question, love." I find her left hand and start playing with the ring on her finger, reminding her of that exact moment.

"No, I mean, like...let's get married."

We haven't talked about a wedding date; We spent the last week just enjoying our time and planning the nursery or spending time with Sam and Jas.

"A proposal usually leads to getting married, love. You know that, right?" I tease her, but she rolls her eyes in an instant, telling me she's not having any of it.

"I'm saying let's get married sooner rather than later. I want to be your wife before this one shows up." She pats her belly, and I can see the love sparkle in her eyes as it always does when she looks at our unborn baby. "We can go right now—I don't mind," she adds nonchalantly, as if she was talking about going grocery shopping and not binding herself to me for life.

"We're not getting married now, love." I laugh. Even though I keep saying I would've married her on the spot when I met her at that club, I know I want to do this right.

"Why?" she asks with a pout, and I swiftly kiss it away before I give her an answer.

"Because you deserve the real thing, Mila. I want to see you in a white dress walking down the aisle with your dad by your side. I want to give you the wedding you deserve, love."

"The wedding I deserve is the one where I bind myself to you, Hayden. I don't care about the dress or the people. I just want you."

I grin when she tries to make her point, a point that's breathtaking and beautiful as hell. "And you say I'm the sappy one."

"Well...you are."

We both share a laugh as I pull her closer, mulling over her words. I know what she means. I just want to be hers and the other way around, and I don't really care about the circumstances of where and when. But like I said, she deserves better. And I'm sure she'd regret it if we didn't do this properly, as much as I'd love to marry her on the spot.

"How about this. We'll give it another two weeks. I can make the necessary calls, and you can make sure you'll be ready for the day, dress and all," I suggest.

"I don't want a big wedding, Hayden."

"You don't?"

She shakes her head at my question, her hands moving to her belly when she takes a deep breath. "No, I just want you. You know how clumsy I am—I don't want to embarrass myself."

It's hard to forget that Mila's no ordinary woman. She is strong and fierce, but she's also delicate and anxious. I know she once said she felt like a joke sometimes, and I know that feeling didn't just vanish; it's lingering somewhere beneath that marble surface of hers.

"You won't embarrass yourself, love."

"But what if I do? I don't want to risk it. Can't it just be the two of us?"

"You won't, and no."

"Hayden... It wouldn't be a big deal—"

"No, Mila." I interrupt her pleas. "We're having a proper wedding." I once said I'd do anything she asks of me, and it's true. But I won't budge on this. I will not marry her without her dad and our friends present. Hell, I haven't spoken to my parents in years, and honestly, I don't feel the need to change that. It's not like they care.

Maybe that's exactly why I want everyone who means something to us to be a part of this wedding. Maybe it's my way of coping with stuff, I don't know, but I know Sam would kill both of us if he didn't get to walk his daughter down the aisle.

"Fine... But what about your parents?" Mila's question makes me look at her again, and I suddenly wonder if she can actually read my mind. No way is this a coincidence. "I know you said you don't talk to them much, but if you want a proper wedding, don't you think they deserve to be there? Even if it's just to get to know about their grandchild?"

For about the hundredth time, I'm speechless. One might think after almost a year of being together, I wouldn't be surprised about the things she says sometimes. But I am. Watching Mila grow and find herself since we got together is the greatest pleasure ever. Seeing her stand up for our child already, to make sure it gets the family it deserves...it baffles me.

"I'm not sure they care enough, love," I admit, as hard as it is to say those words.

"They're your parents. I'm sure they do."

"You don't know how they are." A sigh leaves my throat as I run my hand over her belly, finding comfort in feeling our peanut toss and turn in there.

"Well, introduce me, then."

"What?"

"Yeah," she whispers, "let me make up my own mind, if you're so convinced already. I think every parent deserves a chance to be heard out."

I stare at my fiancée in front of me, noticing the conviction in her eyes, and I know she won't budge on this. We're both stubborn in our own way, and we both have our reasons. To her, family is everything. To me, she's my family, and I won't compromise on that.

But I guess that also means I have to respect her wishes, as much as I dread them already.

"Okay." I finally give in, and I don't fail to notice the smirk playing on Mila's lips. "One meeting. But we leave as soon as they get disrespectful," I feel the need to add.

"Do you think it'll be that bad?" she asks with wide eyes.

"You have no idea, Lucky. You have no idea."