Page 205 of Tangled with the Tight End

It takes a second for Cass to catch on to what’s happening and then she’s on her feet.

“Sit down,” I tell her, but my voice isn’t as strong as usual.

“Put your phones away!” she says. She points at a guy down at the end of the next row. “That means you too!”

“Cass, sit down,” I say again.

Phone cameras flash. I tug on Cass’s jersey. She sits.

“This is nuts, Win.”

“It is what it is. I’m not leaving,” I whisper to her. “I’m here for Declan.”

“If you’re here, I’m here. Maybe we should plan to sit with the WAGs next time.”

“The wags?” I ask, trying to picture what a wag has to do with Thunder. If they had an animal mascot … Nope. I still wouldn’t see what the animal’s tail had to do with where we’d sit.

“The wives and girlfriends of players,” Cass explains. “W-A-Gs. They sit in a special box.”

“Oh, yeah. Maybe.”

I ignore the stares and photos being taken of me the rest of the game, focusing on Declan when he’s on the field. The Thunder win. Declan made some great plays. My happiness for him almost overshadows the sick feeling I have from the interactions with fans throughout the game.

I stick around to congratulate Declan, using the pass he gave me to wait in the family room. I sink into a chair, avoiding eye contact and pulling up my Kindle app on my phone. Usually I’m more sociable, but after today, I just want to see Declan and leave.

About an hour and a half after the game, players start filtering into the family room. I know the moment Declan walks through the door. Something in me always senses when he’s nearby. I stand, taking him in—freshly showered and wearing a Thunder hoodie and joggers. He’s so gorgeous. His eyes catch mine and he strides over to me. I wrap my arms around him.

“Congratulations,” I say. “You played so well. How do you feel?”

“I feel like I could take on the world. It felt amazing to be back on the field.”

He leans in and kisses me.

I don’t tell him about the stands and how the people around me treated me.

When we step out of the family room together, reporters swarm around us, shouting questions and shooting more photos.

Declan bends in and whispers in my ear, “Do you want to come to my place?”

“Maybe later,” I whisper back to him. “I’m really wiped out.”

He nods. We walk together to my car. A few aggressive reporters follow us at a distance. Declan kisses me goodbye and I climb into the driver’s seat, promising him I’ll call before bedtime.

By the time I get home, I’m exhausted.

“Want dinner?” Cass asks.

“I’m feeling exhausted. I’ll eat later.” I head up to my room before she can interrogate me.

When I reach my room, I shut the door and fall onto the bed.

The toll of all the harassment hits me in an instant and the dam breaks. I sob into my pillow.

I can take the heckling.

I can even take being stalked by the photographers.

It’s just … everything. And not knowing when it will end.