22. Gameday Best
22
Gameday Best
Rose - Now
I love the way the morning light filters in through The Downer’s front windows. I sit with my legs curled up on the green, crushed velvet couch Poppy and I splurged on when we moved to Cashmere Cove and sip my coffee, shifting so the winter sunlight hits me smack across the face. It’s not much, but it’s something, and my Vitamin D stores are sorely depleted, so I’ll take it.
I don’t often have quiet, slow mornings like this. I’m either at the bookstore early or doing something for my other job. I hit up church last night because I knew I needed to work this morning ahead of the game. I went over the dossier my dad and the team sent me about Duke. I’ll see him again today, and I need to be prepared. I am prepared. Except, Anton’s case is…different.
I don’t understand why he’s being nice. I don’t deserve it. It’s making it way harder to do my job. It’s making it nearly impossible not to fall madly in love with him.
My mind keeps leaping back in time and replaying the night I broke up with him in Mobile. I’d gotten a call from my dad saying my services with Anton were no longer needed. I was being sent immediately overseas for a job serving as the personal assistant slash security for a dignitary from Sweden. In the blink of an ill-timed phone call, I went from looking forward to one of our regular Monday night walks around town to being required to break up with a man I had real and true feelings for. I could have put it off, but it would have only made it worse, so I handled it then and there. I shut my emotions down and told him the only thing I knew would keep him from trying to win me back. I pretended like I used him. I was cruel and cold, and I’ve hated myself for it ever since.
I stand and start pacing the worn, wood floors of The Downer. It’s quiet living alone, but I kind of love it. Poppy and Mack are right next door, in their half of the duplex, and I physically pinch my eyes closed and sing a mental la la la la to stop myself from thinking about how two newlyweds likely wake up on a Sunday morning. But it’s nice having them nearby. Noli, too, is just across town with Collin. I love Cashmere Cove.
It’s going to be hard to leave it all behind. But if all goes as planned, I’ll have a one-way ticket to Europe with my name on it in the New Year. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. But this morning, looking around The Downer, seeing the way the December sun hits the dust particles in the air and lights them up as if they’re interior snowflakes, the thought of leaving makes me melancholy.
When I glance out the sidelight of the front door, I do a double-take. There’s a long, brown-wrapped package laying on the porch. I’m not expecting anything, so I’m instantly suspicious.
I open the front door slowly, sucking in a breath as the chill of the morning air invades my cocoon of warmth. I glance left and right. No one is around. I nudge the box with my toe and then roll my eyes at myself.
Real high-quality investigative work there, Rose.
What do I think, it’s going to jump to life?
My name is written on the brown wrapping in black Sharpie marker. I narrow my gaze because I’d recognize that handwriting anywhere. What is Anton doing dropping off a gift here? How does he know where I live?
I bend and grab the package, pulling it inside and slamming the door against the chill.
I cross to the kitchen and set the box on the counter, going to the junk drawer for a pair of scissors.
“Hey!”
The sound of a voice behind me has me screaming and whirling around, wielding the scissors as if it’s a javelin I can use to pierce the intruder.
“Poppy!” I work to get my breath back under control as my big sister walks into my living room. “What the heck? Ever heard of knocking?”
She shrugs, tucking her hands into the pockets of her fleece robe. She’s wearing matching slippers too. “Since when do we knock?”
She’s right. We’ve always come and gone freely from each other’s spaces.
Her eyes are on my package as she walks into the kitchen. “Whatcha got there?”
“Nothing.” I say it too quickly, and I can tell she’s even more interested by the way her eyebrows rise up under her bangs. “Actually, I’m not sure what it is.”
“Open it!” Poppy pulls out a stool.
“Don’t you have something better to be doing right now? Something with Mack,” I add pointedly.
“Rose Marie Kasper!” Poppy’s cheeks flush.
“What? I’m just saying.”
“Well, he had to run out to the job site to check on something this morning.”
“Ah, so I’m a consolation prize.”
“No.” Poppy eyes me carefully. “You’ve never been that, and I hope you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I brush off her concern. This is not the first time I’ve sensed Poppy trying to work out what I’m really thinking. Too bad for her, I’m a professional liar at this point—so much so that even I don’t know what I’m thinking.
“You know how much I love a good present.” She rubs her hands together. “Let’s see it.”
“Fine.” I use the edge of the scissors to slice into the packing tape that’s securing the creases of the box.
“Who’s it from?” Poppy stands and walks around to the coffee carafe, helping herself to a mug.
I debate lying, but there’s no way I’ll be able to pull it off. Not when she’s looking over my shoulder.
“Anton.”
“Anton? Anton Bates? As in the man whose football game we’re going to see in a couple hours?”
“You know another Anton Bates?”
“I don’t know any Anton Bates.” Poppy takes a sip of her coffee, waggling her eyebrows at me. “But it seems you know this one…quite a bit more than you let on. Spill.”
I peel back the flaps of the box. “There’s nothing to spill. I knew him in Mobile—briefly. I was hired to write an article on him here. I’m sure this has something to do with the job.”
Then again, maybe not.
I pull away the tissue paper, and there, folded neatly in the box, is a winter jacket. Not any winter jacket, though. This one is periwinkle and branded with the River Foxes logo. I lift it delicately out of the box, and directly over the heart, there’s a number four patch. Turning it around, I feel my cheeks flush. Bates is spelled out in a curve along the back in letters that mimic the team’s official jerseys. Actually, it’s almost like someone took a jersey and transposed it onto this jacket to make a one-of-a-kind masterpiece.
“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.” Poppy reaches forward and feels the sleeve. “Looks warm and cozy too.”
I swallow around a lump in my throat, because it sure does. There’s a white envelope sitting at the bottom of the box, and I lift it out, thumbing my finger underneath the seal. I turn so Poppy can’t read the note.
Dear Rose,
I’ve made you cold enough this week with the Polar Plunge, so I wanted you to have something warm to wear to the game today. I know you said you might pick up some of the opposing team’s jerseys to wear, but the thought of that made me want to die. So, I had this made for you. One of the guys’ wives does this with jerseys. She custom-made it yesterday. I hope you love it. I hope it keeps you comfortable. Thanks for coming…means a lot to me, even if it is for the article. I’ll look for you.
Always,
Anton
I read his note three times over. Poppy, mercifully, stays silent, and she turns back to the coffee maker and gives me a second to compose myself.
Because this is all too much. Too thoughtful.
And the Always, Anton sign-off? What am I supposed to make of that? Always, what? My mind spins with possibilities I don’t dare let myself dream of.
Always mine.
Always there.
Always has been and always will be.
Always and forever.
I blink through tears that have pooled in the corners of my eyes and catch sight of something in the corner of the box. It’s a brown paper bag with the top curled in on itself. I lift it gingerly and inhale a sharp breath at the scent of what I can already tell is inside, my mind flashing back to a Mobile bar and the beat of country music pumping through my heart.
“Are those peanuts?” Poppy is facing me again, looking like she’s dying to ask a million other questions but, instead, has narrowed it down to one, practical inquiry. I’m not na?ve enough to think she’s going to let me off the hook without explaining myself here, but again, I’m grateful for her discretion right now. I’m a fragile little birdy, and I’m about an inch away from falling out of the nest and crashing onto the sidewalk below. She gets it, and she’s not making any sudden movements. A surge of affection for my sister wells up in my chest, along with a renewed pang of guilt for all the ways I’ve lied to her over the years when all she’s done is take care of me and be there for me.
“Yeah.” I clear out the wad of emotion in the back of my throat. “Yeah, they are.”
Inside the bag, along with peanuts, still in the shell, there’s another note. I pull it out and read it to myself.
A snack for the game. Peanuts will never not make me think of you. Hope that’s not weird! ~A
I clutch the bag to my chest. If I’m being honest, the peanuts mean even more to me than the fancy new coat. I love them both for different reasons. His thoughtfulness is so disarming. It makes all the little hairs on my skin spring to life.
I need to shut my feelings down. I should be working on securing the walls around my heart. Battening down the hatches. Diving into the storm cellar. The man has obviously fixed his attention on winning me back. I’ll be putty in his hands if I’m not careful. I can’t let that happen. It’s not fair to him—even if it’s all I want.
Poppy huffs from the other side of the kitchen. “Okay. What gives?”
I try my best to put on an innocent expression, but she narrows her gaze at me.
“There’s something going on, Rose. Noli sensed it in California, and I know she’s right, judging solely by the fact that you’ve been speechless for the past five minutes. No snark. No quick commentary on any of this.” She swirls her hand in the direction of my package. “Are you and Anton involved?”
Loaded question .
I need to be careful here. I absolutely cannot give Poppy the wrong idea. But the closer I can stick to the truth, the better. “We dated in Mobile. Briefly.”
Poppy shrieks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was nothing. A fling.”
Lies. Lies. Lies .
“Not to him. Clearly. He’s sending you gifts. What’s the deal with the peanuts? I’m guessing there’s a story there.”
“We, uh…had peanuts the first night we met.” Apparently, my ability to fabricate stories is lacking this morning. I allow myself this one moment of honesty with my big sister, and then I swear to myself I’m locking this down.
“Oh my goshhhh, Rose.” Poppy grabs my wrist and squeezes. “He still has feelings for you.”
I wince. “I don’t know, Pops.”
“Well, I do.” Poppy huffs. “I want to meet him. I’ll be able to give a more thorough assessment of the situation when I get an in-person feel for him.”
I shake my head. “Can you not make a big deal out of this?”
She bites her lip, studying me. “Why? Because it’s not actually a big deal, or because it is, but you don’t know how to handle it?”
I drop my face into my palms. “The latter.”
She starts rubbing my back, staying quiet and waiting for me to continue.
“I just…” I look up at her. “I am not the woman for Anton, whether I want to be or not. It didn’t work out back then. It’s not going to work now. It’s better for both of us if we don’t delude ourselves into thinking we’re meant to be.”
Poppy frowns. “That’s a terrible attitude to have about this.”
“Pops, I—”
She holds up her hand. “I’m not going to make you talk about it right now because I can tell you’re an inch away from shutting down on me.”
True .
“But,” she continues, “I’m here for you, okay? Whenever you’re ready to talk.”
I nod and swallow. “Did you, uh, need something?”
She gives me a side hug. “Nah. Just wanted to see you.”
My heart swells as she skips back to her side of the duplex, calling over her shoulder that she can’t wait for the game .
Gosh, I love my sisters.
“ I don’t want to leave them.” The words tumble from my mouth, spoken to no one but my empty duplex. It’s the first time I’ve acknowledged that.
But what will I do if I don’t go abroad? What is my life without my undercover work? I’m buried under so much of it, how will I ever dig my way out?
These are esoteric thoughts for another time.
I pull my jacket and peanuts to my face and bury my head in them.
I’ve got a football game to watch and an article to write. Not to mention an ex-boyfriend whose literal life is in my hands. Those are my priorities right now.
Two hours later, I’m standing on the sidelines of the field, watching the River Foxes warm up. That’s not entirely true. I’m really only watching one player: Anton.
The man is locked in. He’s throwing warm-up passes to his receivers and tight ends like he’s firing surface-to-air missiles. It’s slightly terrifying and, yeah, totally hot.
“Bates looks like he could break a guy’s finger if they aren’t careful.” Collin is standing to my left, with Noli.
Poppy leans forward from where she and Mack are standing on my right. “Maybe he’s trying to impress a certain journalist so she gives him some good press.”
She wags her eyebrows at me, and I roll my eyes. “Very funny.”
All around us, the stadium vibrates with pre-game energy. Jock jams emanate from the speakers, and the smell of snow mixes with the smell of fresh grass. Here in Green Bay, the field isn’t lined with turf. Thanks to the snow that fell last night, we get to experience the heady mixture of the frozen tundra. By the game’s end, the field will be a muddy mess, but for now, it’s picturesque, the green and the white.
I tuck my chin into my coat from Anton. Physically, it’s keeping me toasty warm on the outside, and knowing that he was thinking about me is heating me from the inside. A win-win.
“We should probably head to our seats.” Noli glances over her shoulder.
My family is going to be in the stands for the game. I’ll be here on the sidelines so I can get a full gameday experience for the article. Read: so I can keep a closer lookout for anyone trying to hurt Anton . All our intelligence is pointing to a more muted attack. Whoever is out to get him doesn’t seem to want to make a big splash. They’re more concerned with taking him out than they are with drawing attention to themselves. So, I doubt they’ll hit at a game, when the entire general public has the potential to witness it.
Still, as I hug my sisters and fist bump my brothers-in-law, my head is on a swivel.
“We’ll find you after the game.” Poppy releases me from a hug. “Where should we meet?”
“I’ve got to connect with Anton in the locker room.”
“Why? Does he need you to towel him off?” Noli pokes her chin up and rests it on Poppy’s shoulder. “Rub down his muscles?”
“Oh my gosh. Stop it.” I dart a glance around to make sure no one overheard her. I spin back to them and pin Poppy with a warning look. “You told her?”
Poppy shrugs. “There are no secrets among sisters.”
If she only knew . I blink away my guilt.
“If you must know, I’m meeting Anton’s cousin after the game so I can get a couple quotes from someone within the Penwick royal family—for the article.”
Poppy sucks in a breath. “Isn’t it crazy? Anton is actual royalty, and there he is, right out there playing football with a bunch of American commoners. ”
We all turn to watch him. He’s doing some sort of calisthenic stretching, and I’m honestly here for it. He can do butt kicks for me any time.
“He prefers the commoners, actually.”
I don’t register that I’ve spoken out loud until I hear my sisters giggling—legit giggling like they’re eleven years old.
“I’m sure he does.” Poppy smirks. “One commoner in particular.”
I feel my cheeks heat in spite of the air temperature.
“I still can’t believe you’re dating a prince and didn’t tell us, Rosie.” Noli shakes her head.
“I was. Was dating a prince,” I grind out. “Past tense. Anton and I are not together. Would you keep your voice down?” One of the assistant coaches jogs toward us to retrieve some of the spare footballs. “I don’t need anyone to know about our history. I’ve got a job to do.”
Poppy mimes zipping her lips as Noli mutters, “Sorry. Can you blame me? This is a lot of new information to take in. I mean, I knew I should have been suspicious when you said you wanted to be a cat lady, but I didn’t realize you were out there brushing shoulders with famous people.”
I sigh. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
The play-by-play announcer starts talking about the upcoming coin toss, and the players warming up on the field make their way over to the sidelines.
“You guys should hurry so you don’t miss kick off.” I’m not trying to get rid of my sisters—truly I’m not. But I need to focus. “Anton said you could come down after the game too.”
“Seriously?” Noli pumps her fist into the air, and Poppy starts jumping up and down. “I can’t wait to meet him!”
“Don’t make me regret this,” I mutter.
Poppy laughs and gives me a finger wave. She loops her arm with Noli’s, and they skip off to find their seats .
I blow out a breath and turn my attention back to the field.
Anton is jogging to midfield with the other team captains for the coin toss. My pulse picks up. He’s out there like a sitting duck. My gaze skitters around the stadium, but in a crowd of sixty thousand, how am I supposed to pick out any threats?
I don’t take a breath until he’s back on the River Foxes sideline. He won the toss, and the team deferred, so the defense will take the field after the kick off.
Anton stalks over to the bench, looking completely in control. He’s the perfect mix of fierce football player and adorable boy next door—and yes, as my sisters so dutifully reminded me, a prince. He’s the definition of the whole package. He pulls on a stocking cap that’s River Foxes orange with the fox logo stitched on the front. I’m trying to keep my composure while I stare at him, but I suck in a hard breath when he glances over and our eyes lock. It feels like I’ve swallowed a shooting star. My throat goes dry, and my whole body tingles.
His game face is in place, but when he spots me, the edges of his mouth hitch upward ever so slightly. His gaze sweeps over me from my head to my toes and back up again. I’m a chocolate candy bar that’s been left out in the sun—gooey and melty and kicking myself for feeling so sickly sweet about his attention.
What do I do? Nod? Smile? Ignore him?
He lifts a hand, and I think he’s going to wave at me, but he swirls one finger around in a circle. He’s asking me to twirl.
Do I feel slightly ridiculous? Yes.
Do I feel completely cherished? Also yes.
I do a slow spin so he can see the jacket from all angles.
When I make it around to be looking at him again, his eyes hold a darker glint than usual. I’m in a giant piece of outerwear. Not even something figure-flattering or objectively sexy, and yet, under Anton’s gaze, I feel beautiful.
I gulp. I should not be enjoying this as much as I am. I need to ward off his attention and his affection, but it’s hopeless. He makes me feel like I’m the only other person in this crowded, loud stadium.
I’m saved from doing something stupid like walking over to him, sitting down in his lap, and kissing him for all he’s worth when the backup quarterback and their QB coach step in between the two of us, severing our stare-down. They move to sit on the bench next to Anton, and the coach shoves a tablet into his hands. He glances down at it, but he looks back up and meets my gaze.
And then, as if this were a romance novel, the man winks.