“You have a job. Here with me.”
I shook my head.
“Yes.”
“No. We need to focus on us, and I can’t do that properly if I’m still working for you. It just complicates things.”
“I disagree.”
“You would.”
He huffed twice, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he even pouted. “But I don’t want Trevor to keep working on me.”
“Then hire someone else. Just not an attractive woman,” I teased, although I was serious. I wouldn’t be able to stomach the image of another woman with her hands all over him.
“You won’t change your mind?” His tone held a whisper of hope.
“No. It’s for the best.”
“All right, fine. I’ll get another sports therapist if I decide I still want to fight.”
“Thank you.” I pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Now ravage me one more time before our first official date.”
As we lost ourselves to each other for the third time, an overwhelming sense of peace enveloped me. I’d held on to the hope I’d carried for the past three weeks, wishing that Jackson hadn’t given up on us. And the fact he’d been on his way to see me when I showed up earlier proved he was the man I always believed him to be—someone who loved me without question. Someone who needed me as much as I needed him.
When I walked into the job interview all those months ago, I’d needed a fresh start in my life.
Little did I know the man who would give me one was the same person seeking his own new beginning.
EPILOGUE
“This is so exciting!” Abby shouted, bumping her shoulder into mine. “I can’t believe you’re not more into this.”
Her grin was contagious. While I enjoyed the atmosphere surrounding tonight and could easily get lost in the thrum of the fans and the excitement in the air, I couldn’t stomach watching the fight up close. I’d agreed to come tonight to support Jackson with the stipulation that I could watch from the back room. That way if it became too much, I could turn away from the television.
“I’m into it. I just can’t watch it.”
She started to say something else, but Trevor walked in. She ran over to him, acting like she hadn’t seen him in weeks, whenshe’d seen him earlier today at the gym. I wouldn’t begrudge her excitement, though. She deserved to be happy, and Trevor was a great fit for her. I didn’t love the seven-year age gap, but they seemed perfect together.
“It’s about time,” Lance said, waving Trevor over. “Cutting it close.”
“Sorry, there was an accident two blocks away, and it took me forever to get around it. But I’m here now.” He headed toward Jackson. “Hey, man. How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.”
“How’s your shoulder?” Trevor pulled out the white wraps and started taping up Jackson’s hands. When he finished, he’d help him put on his fingerless gloves, standard issue for the fight.
Jackson rolled his shoulder. “It feels good.”
After I told him I could no longer work for him, Lance had interviewed a number of candidates to take my place. He got lucky when he found Tim Welz, who was a talented sports therapist. Over the past five months, he’d done wonders with Jackson, specifically with his shoulder.
And I flourished in my new role as the lead rehab therapist at the VA, working with wounded veterans. Every day was a challenge, but I loved my work.
Trevor handed his friend his earbuds, and for the next two minutes and forty-four seconds, Jackson closed out the rest of the world and engaged in his prefight ritual, listening to a song from Linkin Park I couldn’t remember the name of.
