Page 104 of Tangled with the Tight End

“And so are you.” She stares into my eyes in an attempt to make me receive her words.

“Thanks,” I say.

“You are. He’d be lucky to be with someone as amazing as you.”

I don’t answer her. It’s not that I dislike myself. I’m pretty comfortable in my own skin. Confidence isn’t my weak spot. Believing I’m at the same level as a pro football player when I’m a nurse’s aide with an odd-job side hustle feels delusional. He’s achieved so much in his life. I’m not even close to being in his league.

I shift the conversation. “What have you been up to lately? How’s work?”

“It’s good. You know that historic Victorian on Hillcrest and Chapel?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re putting it up for sale. I got to go through with Bryce today while he took the photos for the listing. Do you know it has a hidden room?”

“I love hidden rooms!”

She sighs. “Me too.”

Then she looks at me with this expression that goes past words and hits me straight in my heart. Only she can do that.

“Winona?”

“Yeah?” I set my empty bowl to the side and the spoon makes a pinging sound.

“I hope you know Declan’s not better than you.”

I just nod.

“It would be a stretch …” I don’t even finish that sentence. I can’t. Saying any of this out loud makes it all too real—my feelings for Declan, the way he sees me, the fact that it will all come to a screeching halt once he’s back on the roster.

I lean over and draw Cass into an awkward hug since we’re both sitting cross-legged.

“A football player,” I say, standing up and laughing to myself. “Of all the things.”

“You don’t even like football,” Cass says, even though she knows that’s no longer true.

Chapter 16

Declan

I love football. I really love football.

As far as I'm concerned,

it's the second best thing in the world.

~ Joe Namath

This three-day-a-week schedule for a home health aide is for the birds.

Do I need Winona here?

Not really. Not even the three days she comes.

Claudette cooks for me. Darlene cleans. I get around on my crutches now. Winona does remind me to rest, but she could do that by text.

I want her here—her smile, the sound of her voice, the way she laughs at her own jokes.