Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
Present Day
My multitasking skills have grown. I’m following Darwin’s instructions at PT while texting Noreen. It’s a feat.
Me: I know. It was late.
Noreen: On the contrary, it was quite early.
Noreen: I was understanding when you accidentally introduced my granddaughter to a nude gentleman during your Fourth of July celebration, but six in the morning? Zev.
Me: Introduce? There was no introduction. There was accidental viewing of a man in his underwear.
Noreen: Oh, I know.
Me: Well, then you know that none of that was my fault. I’ve never seen that guy before. It was some weird freak chance.
Noreen: So easily stirred.
Me: Excuse me?
Noreen: I’m teasing you, Zev. I’m not going to tell you I approve of my granddaughter staying out kissing men until all hours of the morning. But then, if that man is you, I suppose I don’t disapprove either.
Me: Thanks.
I guess. What else does one say to that?
Me: Did she say anything else? How is she feeling?
Noreen: She came home with that smile. You know the one that reaches her eyes?
Me: She did?
Noreen: Yes, Zev. She did.
Darwin sighs loudly, taking my attention away from my phone.
Away from conjuring Rosalie’s happiest smile in my mind.
He’s looking at my leg, as if it might speak up and tell him what’s the matter.
I’m still weak. I’m still tingly and numb at times.
I’m still in pain. A heavy sigh falls from his chest. “I think there’s nerve damage. ”
My jaw clenches. “How severe?”
Darwin shakes his head and rubs one hand over the back of his neck. “We need an MRI. Best scenario, you’re just going to need a longer recovery.”
“And worst scenario?”
His brow cinches, but he doesn’t shy away from my eyes. “You find a new job.”
I blink. “Oh. Okay.”
“I don’t think it’s that bad.”
“But you don’t know.” I rest my head against the therapy table and peer at the stucco ceiling.
He turns to his computer and starts typing away. “I’ll call Dr. White and get something set up for tomorrow.”
“Sure. Okay.”
“In the meantime, go to practice. Jacobson’s worried about you. Go to work, Zev. It’ll help.”
“Are you releasing me to play then?” I grunt. “Nerve damage and all?”
“You know I’m not.”
“So, I’ll go and watch the guys warm up, I’ll watch them practice, and I’ll watch them play. How exactly will that help?”
“They still need you,” Darwin says. He’s a Red Tail, just like the rest of us. He works for the team. He is our personal physical therapist, and he works around our schedule. This isn’t a man who is clueless as to what I do or when I do it.
I clench my jaw and shake my head. “I’m not that much help right now.”
He nods. “Go anyway.”
So, I’ve skipped a few practices. It was for Rosalie. I’d skip again if she asked me to.
I hobble out of the gym—just like I do whenever Darwin is finished with me.
My phone rings in my pocket and my insides jolt.
I expect it to be her. I’m hoping and praying she’s telling me to call in sick to work and to spend the day with her.
Maybe she’ll even tell me that our kiss unlocked all her memories, and she knows exactly who I am.
Then she’ll propose—or accept my proposal all over again—and we’ll hop on the next plane to Vegas. Nah—who needs Vegas? Reno will do. There are plenty of walk-in chapels just forty minutes away.
My phone sings again, only it’s Fran I’ve kept waiting.
I sigh, but answer just the same. “Hello?”
“How are we going to handle this, Zev?” Fran is all business. There’s no friendly Franny hello today.
“Could you be more specific?” I limp over to my car and yank open the door. I’m driving to practice—I’m doing exactly what Rosalie and Darwin told me to do. I will sit on the bench and watch for the next three hours as my team practices together.
“With Rose. You two had a very… productive evening, and now she likes you.”
I’m like a giddy kid at Christmas. “Wait. She does?” Of course she does. She loves me. She just doesn’t know it yet.
“She does. So, what now? Are you telling her the truth?”
“Um…” I scratch my head as a million scenarios play in my mind. “I—I don’t know.” What if I tell her the truth and she’s angry? Or changes her mind? Or decides I’m no better than Robert?
“She’s going to find out,” Fran says. “I could plan a date for the two of you. I know the perfect scene—”
“No.” I’m not trying to be abrupt, but one of Fran’s dates isn’t going to work here. “Thanks. But no. I’ll handle it.”
“You better! Or I will be remaking a Love Actually date for the two of you without your permission!”
My phone vibrates and I hold the device away from my ear and peek at the screen. Rosalie. “Ah—Fran, I’m getting another call. We’ll… chat later.” Then I hang up on my girl’s best friend. I may have to pay for that later.
I pull in one quick breath and tap my phone screen.
“Rosalie?”
“Hey.”
“Are you running?” I ask. “You sound—”
“I’m walking. Maybe speed walking.” Her words are breathy. “You sound good—you always sound good. You sound like you should be in a men’s cologne commercial.”
I snicker. “I do?” I’m not sure what that means, but I’ll take it.
“That isn’t why I called.”
“Okay—did you change your mind? You want to meet up for lunch.”
“No. Zevulun. Go to work. I can’t be the reason you lose your job.” There’s my girl, giving others the business.
I balk. “You won’t be.” No, it’ll be the nerve damage in my leg that does that. “What’s up? Is everything okay?” She sounds anxious, almost unnerved.
“Zev, I remembered something—”
“You did?” I gasp. This is it. My girl is back.
“Yes. We have a problem. You have feelings for someone else. An ex, an old girlfriend, a crush—someone. There’s someone in your life.”
Okay. So, she’s not back. And just as my friends predicted, she’s worried I’m pining for someone who isn’t her. “Well, sort of.”
“Sort of?” she barks. “I thought she’d died.”
I clear my throat. How do I dig myself out of this? I can’t lie to her—not when I can help it anyway. “No, she’s very much alive.”
“Holy Sabrina Carpenter, is there another woman in your life? Am I the other woman?” She sounds on the verge of losing it now. I don’t want her panicking over nothing when she is the only woman in my life.
“No, Rose. There is no other woman. You are most definitely not the other woman.”
“You said there was someone. Someone you still had feelings for. We had that in common. I got over my feelings for Robert. Sure, it may have been abrupt, but I did. Truly. But are you over your feelings? For that other girl, I mean. Was last night a mistake, just something that happened and shouldn’t have?
” Her words are growing more panicked by the second. “Am I no better than Margo?”
I switch her over to speaker phone, and look up her location—where is she? I need to see her, to try and explain this in person.
“Hold up. No, Rose. You are nothing like that woman. I’m very much single. Last night needed to happen.” How can I say I’m “over” my ex when she’s referring to herself? So I avoid that question and skip to the next. “I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me for what feels like forever.”
“We’ve been friends for a month,” she deadpans, which is better than a panic attack.
I’ve got her location. She’s sitting outside Fran’s house. I can’t go there.
“It feels longer,” I say. “I’m not trying to rush you, Rosalie, but I…” I squeeze my eyes shut, worried I’m about to scare her off. That I’m going to ruin everything. “I’m in this. I want you—”
“But you said you had feelings for someone. Just a few weeks ago. You’re telling me those feelings just vanished?”
“Please believe me when I tell you that you are the only girl I want. There is no one else.” I pause, but she says nothing.
She’s quiet. I have officially freaked her out.
I gulp and decide to add, “And I mean that in a non-creepy way. I’m sorry.
I know it’s… quick. I know it’s new. But I like you. ”
“More than—”
“Rosalie, I’m trying really, really hard not to freak you out here—” I’m also trying not to lie to her. “But if you’re going to force me, I’ll say it. Since the day we met, you have been the only woman I see—ever.”
She’s quiet again. “You’re right. That does freak me out. I mean, a little.”
“You wouldn’t stop—”
“I know. My fault.” She huffs out a breath. “Okay. Sooo—you like me. And only me.” She doesn’t sound as if she’s about to have an anxiety attack anymore. In fact, she sounds good.
“Yes,” I say.
“And I like you,” she says with a sigh. “So, that’s settled.”
My heart patters in my chest with a rush of adrenaline that just won’t leave. “Yes. That’s settled.”
“We should probably hang out tonight then,” she says.
I start up my car, shifting into gear, ready to drive to the field. “Your place or mine?”
“How do you feel about eighty-year-old women? Technically eighty-four.”
“Uh—”
“My grandma would like to meet you.”
I clear my throat. I know Noreen. I love Noreen. We are well acquainted. “I love eighty-four-year-old women. Your place it is.”