Page 98 of Tangled with the Tight End

“Darn straight,” Cass says.

“Okay. I’m going. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Let’s get our PJs on and dish up ice cream and sit on my bed chatting until we can barely keep our eyes open,” she says, the giddiness in her voice carrying through the phone.

“That sounds so good. Let’s do it!”

We say our goodbyes and I hop out of the car, walking toward the front doors like I’m walking into my own house. When did the Thunder practice facility start to feel like a second home?

I tug the glass door and wave to James, one of the janitors. I met him when I was searching for a restroom one day while Declan was in treatment.

“Hey, James! Did your granddaughter make the cheer team?” I shout over to him.

“She sure did,” he answers, beaming with pride.

“Awesome!”

I turn down the wide hall, walking toward the door that leads into the rooms where the players meet with coaches. Declan’s got a meeting with the offensive coordinator. I stand off to the side, leaning against the wall to wait for him to come out.

Guys start filing out past me.

Some of them call my name.

“Hey, Winona!” Marcus Delaney shouts.

“Hey, Delaney!” I shout back.

“What’s a guy gotta do to get you to show up and drive him home?” Keller teases.

“Break a bone!” I shout back.

He runs his hand along his jaw like he’s weighing his options.

Declan comes swinging out the door. His face lights up with a smile when he sees me. He glances over at Keller.

“Is he giving you trouble?” he asks.

“Nope. Just trying to get me to start a personal driver service for players.”

“She’s not for hire,” Declan says.

He’s smiling, but something in the way he says it feels possessive, and I’m afraid I like belonging to Declan O’Connell way too much—even if it is in my overactive imagination.

Declan propels himself forward and I fall in step with him.

“See you guys later,” I say, waving to Delaney and Keller.

“Come for lunch again sometime,” Delaney says.

“I will!”

Declan’s smiling down at me. I smile back. It’s good to see him.

It’s like this loose piece rattles around all day—seeing him clicks it into place.

I’ve been watching football movies lately, hoping they’ll help me catch on to the sport more.

I cried my way through a Jerry McGuire scene where the guy confesses his love in three words: “You complete me.”