“What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.”
“Yes, you are.” I kiss her forehead. “I have something for you.”
She perks up. “What is it?”
“I’ve got to go grab it.”
She wilts. “You’re leaving me?”
“Not for long. You’re going to be sick of me in no time, you wait. It’s right outside. Hang on.” I sprint out to where Poppy, Mack, Noli, and Collin are waiting.
Noli arches her brow at me. “Everything okay?”
“Better than okay.” I grab the rolled-up ball of fabric in the corner where I’d wedged it with my shoulder pads. I jog back down the hall to Rose’s room. Before I open the door again, I hear Poppy say, “No way she’s ending up an old cat lady.”
I push open the door to Rose’s room and hold out the wad of fabric for her. It reeks, and I second-guess myself. It seemed charming in the moment, but now I realize I’m presenting her with smelly football player germs.
She takes it from me and opens up my jersey.
I’m suddenly bashful.
But then she clutches it to her chest. “Your gameday jersey?”
“I’ll wash it. Or get you a better one at the pro shop. But let this be a sign for now. Never, ever show up to one of my games without my name on your back. You got that?”
Rose’s cheeks pinken. There’s fire in her eyes, and yes, I hope she’s reading into what I’m not saying. I’ll give her my actual last name soon. If she’ll let me. I was ready to do so five years ago, and I’m still ready now. But for the time being, a jersey will have to do.
“Understood,” she says.
“Good.” I stride toward her and capture her lips with mine.
41
The Trophy
Rose
Much like during the regular season, the River Foxes are dominant, and as I sit here in Anton’s box at the Super Bowl, I can’t help but marvel at how far I’ve come—we’ve come. From our time in Mobile to sitting in the nosebleeds in Green Bay, watching him without his knowledge. I glance down at my jersey. It’s not the one Anton gave me in the post-op room at the hospital two months ago, but the sentiment is the same. I’m wearing his name, and my guy is leading his team to a Super Bowl victory.
There’s only two minutes left in the game. We have the ball, and we’re up by two touchdowns. It’s not officially in the bag, but it feels pretty much like it’s in the bag. Poppy, Mack, Noli, and Collin are with me in the box, along with Duke, who flew back from Penwick so he could be here for Anton.
The two have kept in close contact since everything went down with Queen Della. They put out a joint statement to the Penwickian people, explaining the circumstances. Duke stepped up sooner than anticipated. He and Anton have worked out a plan where Anton can still work on behalf of his charities and the causes he’s passionate about in Penwick, but behind the scenes. He won’t be an acting prince, but he’ll maintain his ties to his cousin and his countrymen. It’s the best of both worlds for him, and Duke has been nothing but gracious in working it out. I really like the guy, and I’m grateful Anton has him. It’s hard to feel the betrayal of a family member. I know that well.
We’ve both got baggage where our parents are concerned, but we’re working through it. My dad, to his credit, helped in gettingcharges brought to the queen after she had Charles shoot me. There was no way Anton was letting his mother get away with that. She’s currently being held in a high-security prison in Penwick, where she was extradited. Both she and Charles will stand trial there for regicide and then here in the US for attempted murder. It’ll be a long road to justice, but we’ll walk it together, Anton and me. Or he’ll walk it. I’ll hobble.
My leg is healing nicely, according to my team of doctors and physical therapists. It’s nearly killed me having to modify my workout regimen, but I’m channeling all my pent-up energy into doing exactly what my PT tells me to hopefully expedite the healing process. Poppy and Noli have been slightly smothering in their care for me, but I can’t blame them. I secretly love them for it, even if I sometimes want to strangle them.
Anton has been a huge cheerleader, coming to my appointments when his schedule allows and listening to me grumble through my exercises. He wasn’t kidding when he said the River Foxes’ facilities would be made available to me. I’ve been having therapy there once a week, and his teammates keep me cackling with their antics before Anton shoos them away and leaves me breathless with his kisses.
I should be mostly back on my feet in time to take over Mood Reader this summer and give Mia a nice, relaxing maternity leave.
In the meantime, she’s insisting I rest and not worry about working. But I’m going stir-crazy at home. I’ve been coming into the book store to be around people during the day. When we’re quiet, I write my book. I’m getting close to finishing the first draft. Anton surprised me at Christmas with two tickets to South Carolina, where he’s taking me for a writing retreat in a couple months. Ten whole days to work on my story and have him all to myself? Dream. Come. True.
I stare down at the field where he’s under center. He calls out the play and hands the ball off to TJ, who pushes the pile forward enough to get a first down.
“That does it.” Collin claps next to me. “The River Foxes are Super Bowl Champs!”
Poppy and Noli whistle, and I throw my hands over my head and scream.
