Page 182 of Tangled with the Tight End

Over the following week, people seem to lose interest in Winona and our date. The internet is a weird place. The memory is long, but the attention span can be mercifully short.

I’m cleared to sit on the sidelines during our game against the Eagles at home on Sunday.

Finally.

Even though I’m not playing, it feels like a milestone to be able to put on my uniform and be on the bench. If you’d have asked me when I first broke my ankle how I’d be feeling today, I’d have told you antsy, eager to get to work, buzzing with anticipation. And I am all that.

Alongside all my feelings about getting back on the field is something I never saw coming: my feelings for Winona. Every day closer to being back full time also means less time with her and more of the spotlight on the two of us—on her. She said she’s fine with it, and she’s handling it far better than I thought she might, but I don’t love the idea of our relationship being out on display.

After the game, a reporter I’ve come to know over the past few years approaches me.

“Good to see you on the sidelines, Declan. Does this mean we can expect you back in the game soon?”

“If all goes well. I’m feeling great, Marcy. I still have some weeks of treatment. Hoping to be back before the end of the season.”

“Good to hear.” She pauses. Her smile doesn’t prepare me for where she goes next. “I have to ask the question that’s on everyone’s mind. We all saw the photo. Is this someone special?”

I breathe in slowly, controlling myself so the camera won’t detect anything.

Then I say, “I appreciate the support from fans. I’m keeping my private life private these days.”

Marcy says, “Of course. Well, thank you, Declan. And congratulations on your recovery. We’re looking forward to seeing you on the field.”

I thank her and then the camera’s off and she says, “Sorry, Declan. Just doing my job.”

“I understand,” I tell her.

Though I really don’t. Some things should be off limits.

My love life isn’t public property.

Chapter 29

Winona

We should just be thankful for being together.

~ A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving

Dad’s at the window of my childhood home counting like he’s a vampire muppet on Sesame Street. “One … Two … Three … Four … Five … Six!”

He turns and shouts. “There’s six of them, Shelby!”

“Okay,” Mom calmly responds from her post in the kitchen. “We’ve got plenty.”

Cass steps up next to Dad to peer out the window and they stand there like a couple of creepers.

“Marcus Delaney. The QB?” She turns to me. “You didn’t tell me the quarterback was coming.”

“I said Declan and his friends.” I pause from setting the table to look her in the eyes. “Got your stats brushed up?”

“That’s so low, Win. And … yes.”

“Jaxon Pierce,” she says. “Jaxon is here. And he’s carrying a casserole dish.”

I laugh. “You two are worse than the Sunday halftime report.”

“And Brady Keller,” Dad says, his tone almost as starstruck as my sister’s. Then he says Brady’s name even more slowly as if he’s savoring it. “Bray … deee … Kell … er.”