“Yeah, well.” She blinks and glances away from me. “I’m signed up, aren’t I? Thanks to you.” She focuses on toeing off her boots.
I do the same, and we’re standing barefoot on the dock. My heart is hammering as I fill my lungs with arctic air, trying to block out the memory of the past fifteen seconds when I made things weird.
“Next up, we have a very special plunger. The starting quarterback for youuur Green Bay River Foxes, number four, Anton Bates!” The announcer’s voice as he reads the rest of the namesin my line is drowned out by the cheers and screams for me. I frown.
Rose looks up at me. “What is it?”
“I don’t like that other people didn’t get to hear their names called because of me.”
She presses her lips together. “Still as humble as ever, huh?”
I swear I hear a note of respect in her tone. I stare at her, wondering if this is a question for her article or if she’s assessing me for her own personal benefit. I hope it’s the latter. I’d like to chuck the entire concept of the article into the Bay and get to know Rose again on my own time, at my own pace. All personal. No business.
The megaphone man is telling us to step right up, and then he starts a countdown from ten.
“I’m not going to, like, seize up and not be able to make it out of the water, right? My muscles will still work?” Rose is breathless.
I squeeze her hand, which I’m still holding. “Hang onto me. I’ve got you.”
A horn goes off, and my body moves instinctively. It’s best to jump without thinking. Actually, that might be why I like this event. So much of my life is a carefully orchestrated dance—doing what I’m told, when I’m told to do it. Sometimes, it feels good to throw caution to the wind and live on my own terms—of my own volition. Jump in feet first.
My feet leave the dock, and Rose is by my side. We’re in the air for all of two seconds before the water engulfs us. The cold makes my lungs constrict, but I kick hard and pop up through the surface.
I’m still gripping Rose’s hand, and she surfaces a moment after I do.
The air is stolen from my lungs again when I see her grinning. Her water-streaked face glistens like a diamond, and I’m no longer cold. Rose’s smile warms me from the inside out. It’s like the first day of blue skies and sunshine after months and monthsof a dreary Wisconsin winter. I could bask in the glow of her forever. Freezing cold Bay of Green Bay water? Who cares? I’ve got Rose’s happiness to keep me toasty warm.
A splash of frozen lake water pelts my face. I splutter, snapping out of my Rose-induced trance.
She splashes me again, and I turn, dodging the spray, which I swear feels like ice shards against my skin.
“What are you doing?” I ask over my shoulder.
“I c-c-can’t believe you made me do this.”
I turn to see her wide, glittering eyes and an open-mouthed smile on her lips—which are admittedly turning blue.
“Pretty sure you did that all on your own.” I pull her toward the ladder and climb out of the bay behind her. My body is protesting my movements, attempting to shut down and conserve heat, but I force it to cooperate with me.
“You’re right. I d-d-did, did-did-didn’t I?” She spins around on the dock, beaming at me. Maybe it’s the hypothermia setting in, but she looks genuinely happy. Like she’s proud of herself. Like she might want to do it all over again. This is my favorite version of Rose. Bold. Determined. Full of life and energy.
The desire to press my lips against hers, to use the remnants of my body heat to warm her up, is so strong I almost give in. But I can’t kiss her. Not yet. I need to make her fall in love with me. And then I’ll kiss her.
Then I’ll never stop kissing her.
13
Secret Tattoo
Rose
It’s been three days since the Polar Plunge, and I finally feel like my body temperature has regulated. But now I’m freezing again because I had to hike across a mile’s worth of parking lot asphalt to get to the players’ entrance of the River Foxes stadium from the visitors’ parking lot. I slide my badge in front of the employee entrance and let myself in.
I stop inside the doors and take a deep breath, psyching myself up to face Anton again. Something shifted between the two of us at the Polar Plunge. He was thoughtful and attentive, and the way he looked at me made me feel like I was the only person in the world. Clichéd? Yes. The truth? Also, yes.
But I can’t let it go to my head. I can’t lethimgo to my head.
After spending the beginning of the week observing practices and sitting at the back of team meetings but not having much direct contact with Anton, I got a text from him last night that said,Meet me in the weight room tomorrow at 3pm. Come ready to WORK.
