Page 190 of Tangled with the Tight End

“Good. See?”

“Yeah.” He blows out a breath. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It shook me up at first, but I’m over that initial shock now. I’m good.”

I’m not fully over it, but I don’t want to burden him with that. I will be over it. I just need a minute to process.

“I need to see you today,” he says.

“I’ll be over in a bit.”

We hang up.

Cass comes back into my room. “I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

I smile, but give her a side-eye.

“Really,” she insists. “I heard you say ‘Goodbye.’”

“Maybe those people are right,” I say, letting my doubts out to my sister.

“They aren’t. You’re not after Declan’s money. You couldn’t care less about his money.”

“I know. I didn’t mean that part. I meant the part about us being wildly mismatched.”

“You don’t mean that,” she says.

“Mostly, no. But … I don’t know. Do I fit this lifestyle? Am I the best woman for his life in the public eye?”

“You’re the best woman for him. The public eye doesn’t get to say what’s best for either of you.”

A week later, Declan leaves again for Green Bay, Wisconsin. He’s been in physical therapy all week along with his workouts and therapeutic massages. His rehab is increasing in intensity, making him more exhausted at the end of every day. I make sure he ices and rests between therapy days.

He’s on the sidelines again. The pregame commentary speculated about his return. I watch on, feeling the miles stretch between us like a cavern. I’m avoiding social media. Thankfully, the announcers don’t bring up Declan or the media attention we’ve been getting lately. The Thunder wins the game and I turn the television off before the recap just in case.

The day after the Green Bay game, I’m at home studying after walking the dachshunds. My nursing program semester finals are coming up.

I jump up when there’s a knock at the door.

Something in me would know it’s Declan even if I weren’t expecting him.

I swing the door open and he’s there, standing on the porch holding a bag of cheese curds in one hand and a package that says Seroogy's Chocolates in the other.

“I could get used to souvenirs from every away game,” I tell him, smiling with relief at the sight of his soft hazel eyes and his unshaven face.

“I hope you do,” he says.

“I really wanted one of those cheese hats the Green Bay fans wear,” I say, popping my hand on my hip.

“I draw the line at buying you fan gear from another team.”

“Instead, you get me a bag of Little Miss Muffett’s snacks,” I say, eyeing the cheese curds. “What are curds anyway?”

He steps closer, towering over me. “I think it’s what they scoop off the top of the cheese when they’re making it.”

I look up at him. “Like curdled milk?”

“Something like that.” He chuckles softly, then he leans in and kisses me. “Missed you.”