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Prologue

Mason

The roar of the crowd has always been a part of my life, in my very blood, just as the games themselves are. Today, this is different, though. The cheers that have always fueled my adrenaline, that have made me who I am, will now be a bittersweet reminder of what I’m leaving behind.

I was going to play to the end of the season, but that can’t happen now. As I limp off the field for the last time, the reality of my decision settles within my very soul. My career with the NFL is over, this final injury providing the last nail in my football career coffin. I know it’s time to hang up my cleats and begin a new chapter in my life. Sometimes a person just knows without anyone telling them.

I make it to the locker-room and take a seat, the smell of sweat and turf filling the air. I’m alone for a solid hour, just what I need. The final cheers go up, and I hear feet pounding down the hall as they make their way toward me. My team walks inside, a mixture of happiness and pity filling their eyes. They walk past me with pats on the shoulder and condolences. This is a day we all know is coming for each one of us in our exceptionally short careers. That’s the world of football. This is a young man’s game, and at twenty-nine, I’m considered ancient in this arena. Why do any of us choose a career that’s guaranteed to be short lived? That’s easy. It’s for love of the game.

“Hey, Bro, are you coming out to celebrate with us tonight?” one of my teammates and friends, Kevin, asks.

I give a shake of my head as I force a smile. “Nope. I have big plans tonight.”

I’m not sharing these plans, but they’re big for sure, bigger than anything I’ve done so far before. I’ve been thinking a lot about my future for quite some time now. While I’m not head over heels in love with my long-time girlfriend, Chelsea, it’s time for me to grow up and settle down. I’m done constantly chasing a thrill. Now, I need to build something that will last.

A few more hours pass as I take in this time with my team. But then it’s time. I give one last glance around my sacred locker-room for the very last time as a football player. I’m sure I’ll be back in some capacity as football’s a part of me and always will be, but I’ll never don the uniform again, never limp inside after a victory. It’s a bittersweet moment.

I finally walk away, and I’m shocked that I’m not unhappy. I have new plans for my future now. It doesn’t take me long before I make my way inside a jewelry store, the air-conditioned space a stark contrast to the stifling air of the locker room.

“You’re late,” my twin-brother, Miles, says as he slaps me on the back, an amused smirk on his lips. We’re identical twins and have fooled many people throughout our lives. Our bodies have shifted as we’ve gotten older, but not enough to not play some games when we want to.

Those who really know us can’t be fooled, but luckily, the masses don’t take too long of a look when we want to step in for each other, which we’ve done many times. My brother’s an author, and he’s damn good. I’m incredibly proud of him. I’ve had fun stepping in for him a time or two when he’s needed me. I wish he could’ve stepped in for me on the field, but that wouldn’t go over too well. Miles is far more of a lover than a fighter.

“I had to say goodbye to the field a little early,” I tell him.

“How are you feeling about that?”

“Much better than I thought,” I admit. “I think it was harder to walk away than making the decision to retire. But now that I’ve made the leap, I’m ready for the next chapter in my life to begin.”

“Spoken like an author. We could always collaborate with each other on a best-seller,” he says with a laugh, knowing it most likely won’t happen. The thing is, though, I’ve been in his world of books as long as he has since we share our lives together. I can’t say it definitely won’t happen, just saying it’s unlikely. He then looks at the rings. “Are you sure this is the route you want to take?” he asks for about the thousandth time. There’s no love lost with my brother and my soon-to-be fiancé.

They haven’t gotten together too many times as they just don’t mesh super well together, but I’d be minimizing the situation by saying the tension can be cut by a knife. It’s not horrible though. They don’t shout at each other, which is important. They’ll learn to like each other at some point. My family means a lot to me, and I won’t share my life with someone who treats them poorly. They don’t have to be besties, but they have to be able to tolerate one another. I shake these thoughts from my head and don’t answer him.

We make our way to the glass counter. Inside the display is what seems like hundreds of rings, sparkling like a hoard of dumped glitter. “Last chance to bow out?”

I laugh. “I’m nearly thirty, Miles. It’s time to grow up,” I tell him. I wish I had more confidence in this decision myself. I don’t need his added doubts to join my own. I’ve decided to do this, and there’s no turning back now.

Miles laughs again as he shakes his head. “It isn’t like you have one foot in the grave, old man,” he teases me. “There’s plenty of time to find the right woman. Don’t rush this because your life’s up in the air right now. Vanessa fell into my life at just the right moment and I’m so lucky to be dating a woman who understands my career, but even then, I’m not ready to marry her.”

“You and Vanessa both live in the book world together and haven’t been dating all that long,” I point out. I let out a sigh as I run a hand through my hair. “I’m not rushing. Chelsea and I have been together for years. We both have to remember that even though we’re twins, we’re different. I’m not you . . . and you’re not me. Taking this next step makes sense.”

“Makes sense?” Miles questions. “Are you listening to yourself. Marriage is about so much more than making sense, it’s about love. Mom’s only met this woman once and I’ve only been out with you both twice more than that. Do you really want to be with a woman who you don’t care to show off to mom and me.”

“Says the writer,” I tell him. I then stop him from replying. “Not everything is some romance novel.” I hold up a hand, forestalling Miles’s response. “Yes. I know. You don’t write romance. You write fantasy that includes some romantic components. Nonetheless, I’ve already decided. This is going to happen.” My voice is firmer now. If he hears doubt in my voice, he’ll zero in on it.

Miles throws his hands up in surrender. “You know I’ll always have your back. If you’re going to do it, then either go big or go home.”

“Leave the sports terms to me,” I tease with a grin. I look down at the biggest diamonds in the case. “But it’s a good idea.” I point down at an obnoxious diamond below. “I’ll take that one.”

The diamond ring of choice is exactly the thing that Chelsea will go for. Chelsea loves showy jewelry, and the four-karat square-cut diamond center stone with the sparkling thin band is big enough to be an archery target at an Olympic event.

The salesclerk’s eyes widen in delight as she pulls out the ring, the diamond catching the light and throwing a kaleidoscope of colors around the room. Miles whistles.

“That’s certainly big,” he says.

“I’m going to do it right,” I say with a grin. I have money so this won’t even touch my bank account. “I know Chelsea will want a ring that can be seen from an airplane though, so it needs to shine.”

We do the transaction and then I safely tuck the ring into my pocket and my brother and I leave the store. We head to the florist shop next. Miles continues to rib me as I select a dozen red roses.

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