by Kata Čuić
I have been worried, but I’ve been fighting not to be. “Thank you for the update. I don’t have to leave for another few hours. Do you want me to come visit since you’re stuck there another night?”
“No, that’s okay,” she murmurs. “I’m sleeping most of the time anyway. I’ve never had a reaction that severe before, and it really took it out of me. Besides, you didn’t want to interfere in my job last night. I’m not about to interfere in yours.”
What she doesn’t know is that I’d cancel my flight if she asked me to. She’s not. So, I have to do the right thing and let her go. “Do you want to hear something that will pick up your spirits a little at least?”
She chuckles. The sound washes over my tense shoulders like an invisible massage. “Sure.”
“Alex is going to be a father.”
She hums. That sound doesn’t relax me at all. My dick twitches in my pants.
“Most men on the planet are going to be fathers someday. I’m sure you will, too.”
“No.” I ignore that last part. “I mean, he’s going to be a father in a few months. He knocked up his team therapist, and they’re keeping the baby.”
“Oh my God,” she breathes. “The media will have a field day with this! The playboy player finally tied down and settling down! With someone from his team, too! It’s so romantic!”
I chuckle. We could have been that romantic story. “Of course, you’d think of that angle.”
“I’m a marketing specialist.” She makes no apologies. I love that about her. “It’s too bad the media doesn’t realize he hasn’t been a player all this time.”
I couldn’t breathe a word of this to anyone inside, but Tori’s fair game. “Is it weird that I’m relieved? If he’s sleeping with other women again, that means he’s finally over Evie. I’ve honestly been waiting for him to do something stupid, even after the wedding.”
“The fact that he gave up so easily without even fighting for her says a lot. To me, that means he didn’t really love her, so much as he wanted what she and Rob have together.”
“Or, he loved her enough to let her go. He gave up without a fight because he knows deep down that’s what’s best for her,” I counter. I rub the aching spot in my chest again. My head might be back to normal, but I don’t think my heart ever will be.
“Do you really believe that?” she whispers.
“Yes.” I’m not talking about Alex. “Men fighting for women is sexist bullshit as Evie would say. It’s a little stalkerish, honestly. You work for Sing Out now. No means no. If two people are supposed to be together, then they fight for each other. It can’t be one-sided.”
She hums again.
I have to pinch my thigh to keep from getting to full mast. There’s a baby in the house. I can’t walk in with a hard-on. That’s way worse than dropping an F-bomb.
“The nurse just came in for my vitals check,” she says. “Good luck in the playoffs.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you around at Sing Out fundraisers.” It’s the best we can do for each other. “You might not be my PR person anymore, but if you need me to do anything to help for the foundation…appear anywhere, share anything on social media…you let me know.”
“I’ll let you know exactly what I need from you, Mike.”
I know she will. She already has.
The next few hours are a mix of mayhem, taking way too easy jabs at Alex, and a new family fighting over a baby.
It almost makes me miss the way mine and Tori’s family got at each other’s throats at Christmas. Mostly, it just makes me miss Peaches.
Rob’s staring into space again, so I clap him on the shoulder.
“I better get going, too. I’ll see you next week at the game.”
“You bet,” he says. The smile on his face only makes the dark circles under his eyes more obvious.
“No.” I laugh, happy for this happy ending. It helps me cling to a thread of hope for the distant future. I made it to the NFL, so anything’s possible. “No more bets. Next thing you know, I’ll be expecting a kid.”
“You’d make a good dad, Mike.”
“I never said I wouldn’t. But you know me. I’d rather have a plan.” And a few more years of sleep. Maybe when I retire from the game, Peaches will be willing to give us a shot.
“Plans are overrated,” Rob fires back.
“Tell me that when you’re expecting an Irish twin in nine months.” With Alex expecting a baby, too, there are all sorts of new competitions in the future.
Just not for me.
I’m settling into this new reality and my seat in first class on the plane when a blonde bombshell takes the seat beside me. She’s not subtle about showing off her cleavage as she stows her purse beneath her chair.
Her smile is an open invitation. “You’re Mike Mitchell. Glad to see you’re looking completely healthy after that awful hit earlier this season. What’s a Wolf doing in Gold Rushers territory?”
I don’t think I’m actually the wolf here. “Visiting some friends. Thanks for your support.”
Peaches would be so proud.
The she-wolf licks her lips. “I could be persuaded to join the mile-high club if you’d like to find out just how supportive I can be.”
Nope. Not subtle at all.
“I’m flattered, but I’ve already found my unicorn, so no thanks.”
Her flawless makeup cracks a little when she scrunches her face in confusion. She obviously doesn’t know the wonders of setting powder either. “Excuse me?”
“Just because I’m a free agent on the market doesn’t mean I’m not in love with a woman. I’m not going to have sex with you.”
Okay, Tori wouldn’t like that response as much. I might have been a little too blunt, judging by the lady’s obvious pout.
“So, you’re back to being Monk again, huh?”
I laugh. I’m okay with that.
“I hope your husband suffers a horrific loss but thank you so much for the last-minute ticket.”
Evie laughs. “Almost, but not quite. If you really want to distract your anxiety with smack talk, then you have to fully lean into it. You can’t serve shit sandwiches and expect results.”
Through the plexiglass of the luxurious box Evie so graciously allowed me into, I watch the players run through their warm-ups on the field. “That was just a test run. My anxiety isn’t that bad yet.”
She chuckles, low and steady. “Oh, it will be. Just you wait.”
“You’re not helping,” I mutter.
“Do you want Robbie?” She offers her kid, holding him out between us.
He stares at me with his big, blue eyes, practically promising to dirty his diaper the second he’s in my lap. A string of drool drips from his mouth onto his Gold Rushers onesie. He smiles a toothless grin that pops the dimple in his cheek that matches his father’s.
“I don’t want to accidentally crush your baby,” sounds much better than Eew, no.
Like he’s personally offended, he lets out a wail.
Evie pulls him close and tucks him beneath her jersey without batting an eyelash.
An audible scoff from another woman floats to my ears.
I lean closer to Evie and whisper, “Are you sure it’s a good idea for you two to be here?”
“It’s the playoffs,” Evie says as if that’s all the reason in the world not to watch the game from the comfort of her home with a 3-month old baby. “At least I’m not in my usual seat near the field.”
“People are staring,” I whisper again. “Maybe you should nurse him somewhere a little more private.”
She barks out a short laugh. “Number one, most of these people have seen my actual breasts at this point. I’m not feeding my baby in the bathroom when I literally have nothing left to hide.”
A hot blush steals across my cheeks because I’ve seen that photoshoot, too.
“Number two…” She aims an evil smile my way. “They’re probably staring at your Wolves jersey and wondering why the
hell you’re in the Rushers box.”
“I’m trying to be supportive,” I hiss, glancing around to see if she’s right. She is. Several glares are directed solely at me. “Maybe I should take it off…I have a regular shirt underneath.”
Evie snaps her fingers in front of my wandering eyes. “Hey. Why are you here?”
“To show Mike I love him, and that I’m willing to take the bad with the good.”
“That’s right.” She nods once—that same decisive movement as the first time we met. “So, you focus on that. Your purpose here today is to support your player. If you’re constantly worried about what everyone else in the league thinks of you, then you’re not doing your job. Got it?”
“Um…” I hate to point out the obvious, but that’s also part of my job. “Creating bad blood with other people in the league isn’t exactly doing Mike any favors either.”
“The bad blood is there, regardless of what you do or don’t do.” Evie leans a little closer and lowers her voice. “These women are all pros. They know the score. They’re jealous because we’re going to get a hell of a lot more screen time and commentary than they will today.”
I already know that because of my job. Mike and Rob played together in college. This is the first time their pro teams are meeting on the field during the playoffs. Fans are going to love seeing their SOs sitting together in a box, wearing opposing team colors. Not to mention this will be their first glimpse of baby Falls. I’m just thankful Mike won’t see any of that footage during the game. I still don’t know how he’s going to react to my grand gesture.
He’s not a grand gesture kind of a guy. He said so himself.
“Am I making a mistake?” I worry aloud. My nerves skyrocket as the pre-game clock reaches zero. “Maybe this is a mistake. I should go.”
Evie wraps her hand around mine then intertwines our fingers. Her blue gaze is strong enough to make me shiver. “Do you love him? Don’t bullshit me, Tori. More importantly, don’t bullshit yourself.”
“I do.” I nod and breathe deeply. I don’t care if she’s my boss or his adopted sister or the wife of the quarterback of the opposing team. I have no shame, and no reason to lie. “I love him. I’m not bullshitting anyone anymore.”
She squeezes my hand. “Then, you are exactly where you’re supposed to be. If you need to excuse yourself to the restroom when he’s on the field, then do it. If you need to get drunk to tamp down your anxiety, then you’ll have a ride home and a safe bed to sleep in tonight. But you will be on that sideline when the clock winds down—either to celebrate with him or to dry his tears. No excuses.”
“Yes, Mrs. Falls.” Okay, so I still automatically react like she’s my boss when she takes that no-nonsense tone. It’s years of conditioning from being raised by a Navy captain.
She gives me a look of exasperation before turning her attention to the field. “Oh, yes! It’s game time!” She plants a kiss on her baby’s head and whispers, “Go, Daddy.”
“You’re going down, Falls,” I mutter as I watch Mike and Rob meet in the middle of the field along with the other team captains for the coin toss. They bump fists before parting to opposite sidelines.
“Bring it on, future Mrs. Mitchell,” she retorts. “You’ve got this.”
I don’t got this.
I grind my molars into powder; I sit on my hands; I bounce my knees incessantly. I shriek whenever he gets tackled. Which is a lot. I even hold Robbie because I would never actually crush a baby to death, no matter how panicked I am.
Every time I’m tempted to close my eyes, I remember the feeling of his strong arms around me as I fought for air. I picture his calm, sure actions in the face of disaster. I imagine how panicked he must have been when the doctors whisked me away into the ER, where he wasn’t allowed to follow. I think of how exhausted he looked when I woke up in a hospital bed with him beside me again.
He’s already made a grand gesture, and he doesn’t even realize it.
He stayed after the threat was over.
Then, he came back for more.
It’s his choice to love me. For better or worse.
The clock winds down on a Wolves loss. By a field goal in the last minute of play.
The mood in the private box is celebratory, except for me and Evie.
For her, because there’s a sleeping baby snuggled against her chest.
Me? Because I don’t know if this Hail Mary will be enough to sway the thick-skulled man who’s currently shaking hands with his opponents.
“Go get him.” Evie actually pats my butt like the guys on the field have been doing the whole game.
My muscles tremble with anxiety. “You’re not coming down to the field?”
“No. There are way too many germs floating around down there, and Robbie’s little ears can’t handle that level of deafening noise.” She smirks. “Although, I’ve ordered a special pair of infant headphones just in case we make it to the Super Bowl.”
“No need to gloat,” I grumble.
She flags down a security guard with a chuckle. “Please escort Miss Russo to the Wolves’ sideline.”
“Sure thing, Mrs. Falls. This way please, Miss Russo.”
I follow the imposing man who’s big enough to suit up in a football uniform of his own. He leads me through crowds exiting the stadium, past other guards who nod as we enter doorways marked Staff Only, until finally, my eyes blink from the stark contrast between the darkness of a hallway and the bright lights of the field.
“Oh! We’re on the Wolves sideline already!”
He chuckles. “I thought that’s where we were supposed to go? Did you want me to take you to the Rushers sideline?”
“No, no,” I wave off that suggestion. I’m just not prepared yet. I’ve never made a grand gesture in my whole life. Suddenly, playing this off the cuff seems like a horribly rash idea. “This is perfect. Thank you.”
He pulls a badge out of his pocket. “Put this on, and you’ll be all set.”
“Right. I almost forgot teams don’t just let any random weirdo on the field after a game.” I pull the lanyard over my head without even glancing at it. I’m too busy looking for Mike amid the throng of bodies.
The security guard laughs at me and raises his eyebrows. “Good luck, Miss Russo.”
I don’t need luck. I already have it. I’ve found my unicorn.
Only one thing propels my feet forward—need.
The moment I’m close enough, I launch myself at him and climb him like a tree, planting kisses all over his face and not giving a damn that he’s probably so sore.
Thank God he doesn’t mistake me for a jersey chaser. He just holds me tight and squeezes my ass a little too indecently for public. Not that my behavior isn’t completely indecent.
“Babe,” he laughs between my assaults. “Babe. What are you doing here?”
I cup his sweaty cheeks in my hands and make sure he’s meeting my eyes. “You were the first person I wanted to run to.”
I’m not supposed to be the happiest man in the world after such a tough loss, but with my hands full of Peaches, I can’t help it.
“I hope I’m the first person you kissed on this field.”
She’s still holding onto my face like she’s never going to let go, and goddamn, am I okay with that.
“No. I mean, yes. What I really mean is when I had my reaction to the crab. It was you. I knew I didn’t have much time, and you were the first person I thought to find.”
“Okay…” My ears are still ringing from a tough game; my skin tingles everywhere she’s touching me, and I really don’t need to know the reason why she’s here.
She huffs out a little growl of frustration that makes me wish we weren’t standing in the middle of an open field. “My dad said that’s how I would know if it was real. If the first person I wanted to run to for anything was you. It happened when I wasn’t even thinking about it, and you were so calm, and you still love me even though I’m a walking potential for death, a
nd damn it! You’re my unicorn, so I’ll deal with the football panic!”
I blink and rewind her rushed words, trying to make sense of something that’s never made sense since the very beginning.
It doesn’t matter because she crushes her lips to mine. There’s no way to mistake what she’s telling me without words.
Her tongue tastes like her nickname. She’s sweet and soft all around me. I want to bury myself in her and not come up for air for days.
Damn it, why did this have to happen on the field?
“I wish we were alone,” I whimper against her lips. “I’m not gonna get to see you again until tomorrow.”
“I’ll let this go another day,” she wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes tight. “I wanted to give you a grand gesture by being at your game and proving to you I can handle it, but I didn’t think this through all the way. I love you. I can wait until tomorrow to kiss you again.”
“Babe,” I choke out. “Can’t breathe.”
She loosens her strangle hold. Slightly. “I know you’re sore after a game, but I need to touch you. I need to love you. You’re part of me, and I have the bruises on my thigh still to prove it.”
Holy shit. I left bruises on her? “You told me I had to stab the injector!”
She laughs, a deep husky sound in my ear that shoots straight to my dick. “I know. And you told me not to touch you after a tough loss, but I’m sorry not sorry right now.”
“I’m not sorry either, Peaches.” My teammates are reeling from getting knocked out of the playoffs, but I’m kissing my unicorn in the middle of the field again.
A wolf whistle comes from somewhere over my shoulder. “Damn! I wanna get consoled like that!”
Tori pulls away, a deep blush staining her cheeks like stupid Templeman just made her very aware of the position we’ve been in all this time.
I squeeze her luscious ass in my hands and laugh. I don’t fucking care who sees this or what spin the media put on it.
Tori frowns then pulls a badge out from her cleavage that was digging in enough to leave an angry red mark behind. Her cheeks get impossibly brighter. “Um, I think this message is for you.”
