Page 157 of Tangled with the Tight End

“Because that’s what’s happening?”

“Exactly. Yes. That’s what’s happening.”

“So, we’re good? Cleared to walk into the other room without you fangirling?”

“We’re good.”

I study Cass for another moment. She’s breathing normally. Back to her usual self, so it seems.

I lead the way out of the kitchen, through the hallway and into Declan’s front room.

Jaxon’s there with his leg propped up. He’s sitting in the chair I usually sit in, the one next to the couch. I glance around, recalibrating where I’ll sit.

“Come sit with me,” Declan says.

I walk toward him.

Cass comes in behind me.

Her face flushes again. She stares at Jaxon with her mouth forming an “O,” eyes wide, frozen like a statue with an inscription Epic Level Fangirl with Zero Chill.

When she speaks, her voice comes out practically an octave higher than normal, rapid and squeaky with emotion. Kind of like she’s auditioning for Alvin and the Chipmunks.

“Jaxon. Pierce. Jax-on Pierce. Safety for the Thunder. Hi. I’m Cass.”

She shakes her head and I think she’s about to course-correct, but she barrels forward. It’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

“I’m Winona’s normal sister. Sister. Not her normal sister. I am normal. But … yeah. The sister. Of hers.” She finishes her self-introduction by pointing at me.

Declan snorts and then covers his face with his hand. His laughter feeds mine. I’m biting the inside of my cheek to keep from bursting into hysterics. I’m torn between compassion for Cass’s self-induced predicament, second-hand mortification, and the deep urge to rescue her from herself.

Cass shoots me and Declan a scolding look.

“Nice to meet you, normal sister,” Jaxon says.

Cass squeezes her eyes shut.

Then she smiles brightly at each one of us—even Jaxon—and settles into a chair.

Declan unmutes the volume. We’re still in pregame. Four guys are on the screen discussing their thoughts about the Bears and the Thunder.

I think Cass is done with her bizarre reaction to Jaxon, but then she suddenly shakes her head once and stands up, looking at me with a meet me in the bathroom type of expression.

I start to get up, but then, as quickly as she stood up, she sits back down, inhales deeply, blows out a breath and seems to attempt to focus on the screen.

Declan squeezes my arm. I can’t even look at him for fear I’ll lose it. I settle into his hold on me.

A second later, Cass pops up again, stepping away from her chair.

I ease to the edge of the sofa, ready to join her.

Her brow furrows and she plops back down.

“You know what?” she asks no one in particular. “So what. You’re Jaxon Pierce. So what.” She crosses her arms over her chest and bobs her head definitively.

Then she looks at me and Declan. “So what if he started eighty-six of his ninety-three NFL games. Do you care that he has had three hundred and nineteen career tackles? Seventeen interceptions? Fifty-two pass breakups? Five forced fumbles? Four sacks on safety blitzes? Or that his missed tackle rate is under seven percent?”

My mouth pops open.