He was good—really good.
“I’m scared.” My lips held a residual smile to hide the true depth of my fear.
Cage’s hand slid behind my hair, gently holding my neck as he leaned down and kissed me. “What are you scared of?” he whispered over my lips.
“I’m afraid we’re too high. I’m afraid the universe—God—is going to demand balance again. I’m afraid we’re going to stop falling when the ground hits us.” I rested my hands flat onhis chest. “I’m afraid of the ground.”
Resting his forehead on mine, he rolled it side to side. “Fuck gravity.”
Up.
Up.
Up.
Minnesota made it to the Super Bowl and they made it in the year that Minneapolis was hosting it. Things couldn’t get any better. I was engaged to a sports rock star. It didn’t even matter that all the trashy tabloids had us cheating on each other. Gravity? We weren’t falling anymore. We were flying.
“Just keep moving.” Flint and several bodyguards led me through the sea of fans flooding the field. Confetti snowed down on us as the NFC Championship celebration on the field reached its peak.
I couldn’t see him.
I couldn’t see him.
And then… I saw him and only him. I could barely breathe. He stood behind the stage wearing his championship shirt and hat. He looked like a young boy who just lassoed the moon. Handing me a football, the one he ran into the end zone on the final play of the game, he shook his head. Then he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the ground.
“Now it’s real. God, I love you! Nothing in my life is real until I’m sharing it with you.” He kissed me and I loved that he couldn’t even contain his grin long enough to kiss me.
“Congratulations! Way to not fumble, Monaghan.” I grinned, biting my bottom lip, feeling the elation of it all on my own face.
Ten seconds. That’s how much time we had in our own little bubble before Flint and the group of security guards succumbed to the throng of players, photographers, and fans.
“Come on.” Cage took my hand and led me to the stairs going up the back of the stage where they were going to present the trophy.
I shook my head, trying to pull my hand out of his grasp. “It’s all you.”
“I’ll throw you over my shoulder.” His brows lifted.
My eyes did their customary roll as I gave in and followed him onto the stage.
Gretchen, the owner’s wife, put her arm around my waist, keeping me steady as Cage took his place in the spotlight with her husband and the head coach as the announcer began the presentation. I needed her support. My whole body shook from the adrenaline.
“Show the cameras that beautiful smile of yours. They love you too, you know.” Gretchen winked.
I wasn’t so sure “they” loved me too. I’m pretty sure there was an “I Hate Lake Jones” Facebook group with thousands of jealous women bashing the girl with the missing leg. Facebook was a shit-fest like that.
I couldn’t hear anything but my own heart pounding and the whoosh of blood in my ears. A few minutes later Cage turned, holding a big-ass football trophy in one hand and reaching for me with his other hand. He kissed me while a sea of flashes flooded the stadium and more cheers erupted.
“Fuck gravity,” he whispered in my ear before turning toward the crowd again.
I smiled, but beneath it was the worst feeling in the world. A knot in my gut pulled so tight I thought I might buckle over.We were too high.
Too. Damn. High …
I rode backwith my parents to Cage’s while he finished his post-game interviews. We stopped by the drug store for me to get some toothpaste. The bag I carried back out to the car had a box of pregnancy tests, no toothpaste. My parents were none the wiser.
Brooke, Rob, and the girls beat us back and had boxes of pizza and beer waiting for everyone.
“You feeling okay, sweetie?” My mom asked as I headed toward our bedroom.
