Page 162 of Interference

I did steal a kiss, though, which made him blush, much to the delight of the fans at his table. Then I left him to it and continued to wander with Lily by my side. True to the organizers’ word, the aisles were kept clear so people could move around easily. There were small crowds around each table, especially where the star players were dealing, but the walkways were wide open and security guards kept exits clear.

There had also been an announcement at the beginning that a few people in attendance had service dogs.

“As a reminder,” the organizer had said, “the service dogs are working animals, and their handlers request that people not pet them or get their attention.”

A few people had certainly glanced at Lily, and some had even taken her photo, but no one spoke to her or tried to pet her. Two of my volunteers—Charli and Pedro—also had their dogs with them, and when I checked in with them, they confirmed that no one had bothered them.

Despite the open walkways, being in the middle of the room with this many people did start to get to me at one point. I hadn’t even realized it until Lily nudged my hand, and I noticed I’d started sweating and my heart had started racing. So I moved to the edge of the ballroom. There were some games and booths over here, plus refreshment stations, and a much thinner crowd. With more space and fewer people between me and two different exits, my pulse came down a little.

“Good girl,” I told Lily, and slipped her a treat from my pocket.

We stayed at the edge of the room for a while so I could breathe, but I was hardly standing against the wall with nothing to do. In fact, all along one end of the enormous room, dozens upon dozens of items had been donated to a silent auction. Original artwork. Autographed memorabilia, including from other teams in the league as well as the women’s league. Vacations. Bottles of wine from the local wineries. Player meet-and-greets. Spa treatments. There was a little of everything, and people weren’t shy about bidding.

It was mind-blowing to see the whole event unfold. I’d been so absolutely convinced that no one gave a shit about people living on the streets, veterans or otherwise, but this room was packed with evidence to the contrary. Every single attendee had coughed up at least five hundred dollars apiece just for their tickets. They were each given about twenty bucks in complimentary chips, but there were people sitting down at tables with enormous stacks of chips, all of which would be cashed in for raffle tickets at the end of the night. Every penny they paid to buy casino chips, drinks, or auction items went straight to the organization.

To my organization. I still couldn’t quite believe it, but here we were.

“Wyatt!” a woman’s voice turned my head, and I smiled when I saw Monica. She was, like the other wives and girlfriends, dressed to the nines—in her case, a glittering sequined blue dress.

“Hey!” We shared a quick hug and spent a few minutes catching up. We’d gotten to know each other more since that first Thanksgiving when Lily had helped with her fear of dogs, and we’d become good friends. When I’d started going to games, she’d invited me to the suite where spouses and partners sat. The first few times, the noise and lights had gotten to me, and Monica had stepped out into the hallway with me when I’d needed to calm down. The box was great because it was easy to escape into a quieter, less crowded area. If a game got too overwhelming, I could get away without much fuss.

Over time, I’d gotten used to it all and didn’t need to step out as often—which helped me handle being at tonight’s event—and she’d played a big role in that.

“Oh!” She took her phone out of her purse. “Look what we brought home for the kids!” She showed me the screen, and on it was their three daughters, all huge smiles as they fawned over a Golden Retriever puppy.

“Wow, you guys finally dropped the hammer?”

Smiling broadly, she nodded. “The kids are thrilled.”

“I bet they are.” I had a feeling she was, too. It turned out that on the way home from the Thanksgiving where she’d met Lily, Monica had told her husband she wanted to get some therapy. The whole family wanted a dog, and especially after her interactions with Lily, she’d decided it was time to stop letting her fear rule her life. Dogs were everywhere, and enough was enough. The therapy had worked wonders, too. This past Thanksgiving, D’Angelo had hosted, and his two enormous Bull Mastiffs had happily roamed the house. There was even a photo on Monica’s Instagram of her petting the bigger of the two while he rested his giant head in her lap.

And now, much to the delight of Young and the kids, the family had a fuzzy yellow addition.

I chatted with Monica some more, then continued wandering around the event, just trying to take it all in and comprehend that everyone was here to help my organization. I did get a little overwhelmed again at one point and stepped outside for a few minutes with Lily, but otherwise, I was all right. Maybe going to all those games had really helped after all.

At the end of the night, Anthony found me and said they wanted me up on stage for the closing remarks. He took my hand. “Come on. They won’t make you speak—I promise.”

“They’d better not,” I muttered. “I’m still a soldier, so I might swear.”

He just chuckled and we continued onto the stage with Lily beside me.

Clark got up to thank everyone for coming, and he also told them a little about the organization. Then he gestured at me.

“I’d like to introduce Staff Sergeant Wyatt Miller. He served for twelve years and was discharged after being wounded during his third combat tour. He’s here with his boyfriend, Anthony Austin, and his service dog, Lily.” More applause, and I reached down to pat Lily, who was wagging her tail beside me. Clark went on, “Staff Sergeant Miller is the founder of the organization that the Seattle Bobcats are proud to support tonight.”

The applause was even louder this time, and it made my throat tight.

When the noise had died down, he continued. “After tallying up the generous donations and the silent auction…” He glanced at the piece of paper in his hand, then smiled as he told the room, “Thanks to each and every one of you, the Seattle Bobcats have raised over $400,000 for the Housing Veterans of King County Project tonight.”

All the air rushed out of me, and I leaned against Anthony. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple. “Well done, baby.”

$400,000. Holy shit.

Before I’d even started to make sense of that, Clark handed the microphone to Anthony, and I did a double take. Since when was he going to speak in front of a crowd?

Anthony smiled and winked at me.

Oh, fuck. He wasn’t proposing, was he? I’d told him after another player had proposed at a game that I hated public proposals. He’d listened, right? God, tell me he’d listened.

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