40. The Do-Over
40
The Do-Over
Anton
I pause outside the door to Rose’s room, trying to collect myself. Poppy left me to, as she said, “kiss and make up.”
Bold of her to assume that’s what I want.
Bold. But correct.
Still, I’m timid. Because what does Rose want? Where do we even begin with each other?
“I see your shadow under the door.” Rose’s voice sounds hoarse and distant from behind the partition. “Why don’t you come in here?”
So much for getting my bearings before I face her. I open the door, and the sight of her in the hospital bed steals my breath. She looks small and frail—two words I have never once associated with the tough-as-nails woman I know.
That’s when the truth hits me. I do know her. In spite of the deception, I know who Rose is. I like who she is. I think she likes me too. I take a tentative step forward.
As if reading my mind, Rose waves a hand through the air. “I look like I got run over by a truck. Feel about the same.”
I nod. “How’s the leg?”
“I get to keep it.” She pauses. “It’ll be a while before I’m back in the weight room, though,” she adds quietly.
“You’ll be back. There’s a rack with your name on it at the River Foxes stadium when you’re ready.”
Her eyes zing to mine, and I relish the flicker of determination I see in their blue depths. “Really? ”
“After what you did today, the whole organization is bowing down to you.”
Rose presses her lips together and dips her chin. “What about you?”
“What about me? You want me to bow down to you?”
“No!” She rolls her eyes, and I’m grateful to see them spark with humor before she turns serious again. “Are you alright?”
This is so typical of Rose. She’s laid up, nursing a gunshot wound, and yet she’s concerned about me.
“I will be. I just confronted my mom.”
Rose pales further.
“I’d rather not talk about it right now, if that’s okay.”
“Very much okay.” She nods hurriedly, and then she studies me.
“What is it?”
Her hands fist the sheets, as if she’s trying to quell her worries about something. “Before either of us say anything else, I’m wondering if I can have a do-over.”
“A do-over? How would that look?”
She waves me back toward the door. “I’ll show you. Go into the hallway, and when I say it’s okay, come inside again.”
I do as I’m told, not sure what her end game is but willing to play along. There’s not much Rose could ask of me that I won’t do. It’s how it’s always been, and if I have my way, it’s how it’ll always be.
She doesn’t make me wait long before I hear her call, “Ready!”
I walk through the door again. She’s cued up an old Faith Hill song on her cell phone. When I come to a stop by her bedside, she hands me a package of vending machine peanuts.
My eyes dart to hers, and she shrugs. “It was the best Poppy could do under the circumstances. You’ll have to imagine the scent of spilled beer.”
My heart is pumping faster than it does when we’re down by a score and I have the ball in my hands with less than two minutes to play .
She holds out her hand. When I don’t immediately take it, she wiggles her fingers. “Come on.”
“What?” I grin. “Can’t a man try to memorize a moment?”
She sucks in a breath as I clasp her hand and bring it to my lips. Two can play at this do-over.
“Okay. Here goes.” She clears her throat. “Hi. I’m Rose Kasper. I love books and lists, and I’ve recently started writing again.”
I cock a brow.
She fights a smile. “I’m figuring out who I want to be and working on being her, unapologetically. I also love Mexican food, being warm, and watching football. Well, one football player in particular.”
My pulse pounds and my whole body feels light, fizzy. Like my blood is fifty percent carbonated water.
“My family dynamics are complicated. My mom is dead. My relationship with my dad is rocky at best. But my sisters mean everything to me.” She shifts in the bed. “I’m a trained security operative, and I like keeping people safe. You are”—she pauses—“you were my assignment. I would do anything in my power to protect you.“ She gestures to her leg. “Exhibit A. But I also value honesty and transparency. I’m sorry I didn’t give that to you before. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I knew you were a football player prince the moment I met you.” She takes another breath. “I knew then, like I know now, that our backgrounds are worlds apart, but what I also know, what’s always been true, from that first night in the bar, is that when I’m with you, I feel like I’m who I want to be.”
She stares up at me with vulnerability and hope splashed in the pools of her eyes.
I’m still gripping her hand. I squeeze it.
“I’m Anton Bates. Football player and soon-to-be former prince. You know a lot about me from our past, and I can’t wait to teach you a lot more about me in the future. But what I need you to know right here, right now, in the present, is that I loved you back then. I love you now. I’m going to keep loving you as long as you’ll let me.”
Rose blows out a breath. “You’re sure?”
“One hundred percent.” I motion to the side of her bed. “May I?”
She nods, and I sit down, brushing a tear from her cheek. I’m careful not to jostle her as I wrap my arms around her and hold her to my chest.
“Thanks for the do-over,” she murmurs. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t honest with you upfront.”
I kiss her forehead. “No more apologies. Besides, I didn’t know what I didn’t know when I didn’t know it. But if I did know it, I might have lost what I gained by not knowing.”
She tips her chin up at me and looks thoughtful, digesting my words before slowly nodding. “What did you gain?”
“Time with you. The opportunity to lay the foundation of a relationship. I wouldn’t change a thing, Sammy Rose. Everything led me here. To you. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
She kisses my collar bone. “Ditto. Kind of.”
I freeze and glance down at her.
She shrugs. “I mean, actually I’d rather not be shot and in a hospital bed. I’d rather be at the book store, or the football stadium, or out to dinner with you, but the sentiment is nice, and I know what you meant.”
She’s teasing me, and I love it. Because nobody, save for my teammates and Rose, has ever felt comfortable enough around me to give me a hard time. It makes me feel normal. It makes me feel safe, and I love her all the more for it.
“Look who’s got jokes along with her gunshot wound.” I readjust her in my arms.
“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.