All Hail the Underdogs (Breakaway, #3)

by E.L. Massey

Damien just looks at him for a minute. Like Rome is something important. Like maybe Damien really does think he’s worth several million dollars.

“Oh my god,” Damien says. “I love you so much.”

He knows that people are made of star dust. He remembers watching Cosmos, hearing Carl Sagan say that humans’ matter was composed of long-ago exploded stars.

But he’s started to think—he wonders if maybe it isn’t a little bit of both. Fantasy and science. Maybe there are people who are made of the same sort of dust. People who used to be part of the same star that’s trying to find its way back together again.

“Also,” Rome says. “Would you stop trying to marry me?” “No,” Damien says, kissing the shell of his ear. “No, I will not.”

Damien reaches for the cup, hauling Rome to his feet by proxy. “You want to kiss under the cup, don’t you?” “I really do.” Rome rolls his eyes, but he does it, pushing the cup above their heads, fingers curled tight around the bowl. He kisses Rome and doesn’t stop.

“Dad,” she whispers, patting Rome’s cheek. “Dad, we’re cuddling.” “Oh good,” he murmurs, “thanks for letting me know.” She arranges Rome’s arm over her to her liking and then looks over her shoulder at Damien expectantly. He drapes his arm over them both, tucking his hand up the back of Rome’s sleep shirt, palm against morning-warm skin. Finley nods approvingly and returns her attention to Rome. “We’re not swimming today,” she informs him. “We’re sleeping in because we’re Stanley Cup champions.” Rome opens his eyes. He meets Damien’s, grinning. He kisses Finley’s forehead, then leans closer to kiss Damien. “We are,” he agrees.