“But… I have yet to see you, and I’m missing you so fucking badly I’m beginning to…” he lowered his voice “…hate football.”
I gasped. “No.”
“Yes.”
“You should quit and I’ll quit my job too. We can play with Trzy all day, or go fishing. I bet Trzy would like fishing.” I laughed.
“What a coincidence. We’re both dreaming about quitting our jobs to play with pussy.”
“That’s crude.”
Cage chuckled. “Ya think?”
“I do.”
“Seriously. Why are you torturing me by staying away?”
I picked at my lower lip while formulating an answer that would make sense. “I’ve been busy.”
“It’s a day trip. You’d better have something more concrete than that.”
I rolled my eyes. Good thing he couldn’t see my guilty grin. “I don’t know… I haven’t really heard any feedback from Flint or anyone else as to how you’re doing—how you’re playing. I mean… you could totally be sucking it up on the field. For all I know, they may have drafted or traded some amazing quarterback who is ready to shove your ass to the bench. I have too many people who follow me or see me on social media. I can’t be that girl with the over-hyped, second-string football stud. It’s too embarrassing. I have my own reputation to think about.”
“You need to come see me so I can put something in your mouth to stop your endless rambling of bullshit chatter. Seriously, why haven’t you been here?”
I flipped on the laser pointer which sent Trzy into a spastic chase. “I think I distract you?—”
“Flint. He said something, didn’t he? Stupid fucker.”
“No. Well, no more than his normal spiel. Let’s face it. A month ago you were ready to quit the NFL to teach and be with me. On a scale of one to ten I was flattered by that gesture at a firm eleven. However, I think you’re too young to throw this away. I’m not making you choose between me and yourjob. I’d never make you choose. I need to know your head is where it needs to be right now. You’ve said it yourself, nothing is worth doing half-assed. I’ll be at your first preseason game this weekend. Camp is almost over, and then you can stick whatever the hell you’d like in my mouth. Okay?”
“Fuck me, Lake… stop saying that shit. I’m so goddamn desperate to be buried inside of you.”
I patted myself on the back, which I wasn’t accustomed to doing, but it was crazy how those words just flowed from my mouth and I meant every one of them. They came out and blocked the pain of what had happened with Shayna. Flint was right. She was OK and the what-ifs didn’t matter. Life existed in the what is, not the what was or what if. Ben died. Shayna lived. None of it needed to affect Cage in that moment.
“I’ve got to go, babe. I’ll see you after the game. Okay?”
I nodded, swiping my tears. Gah! The emotions. I welcomed them. They confirmed every damn day that I was still alive. “Cage?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t forget to love me.”
“Impossible.”
“Law?”I stared at the back of Jamie’s Minnesota jersey.
“It’s my last name.”
“I know. But Shayna’s has Banks. Why don’t you have one with an actual player’s name?”
Jamie led us to our seats like he owned the place. “Because you wear a jersey once and then the bloke with his name on the back, ups and leaves the team and you’re stuck with a jersey that’s no longer relevant. At least for Shayna it’s her last nametoo. And why are you giving me a hard time? You’re not even wearing a jersey or any team wear for that matter.”
I laughed. “Flint told me to dress neutral. It’s a preseason game, but he said fans can still get out of control, and since I’ve been in the media, wearing a Monaghan jersey could be like a target on my back.”
“Oh. My. Gosh!” Shayna gasped as the stadium came into view, both teams on the field doing pre-game warm ups.
“Ahh…” I smiled, closing my eyes for a brief moment. “Nothing quite like the smell of sweat and grass.”
