Page 108 of Sack

He grinned and kissed the top of her hand.

He spotted his parents walking into the restaurant and opened the car door. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Colt had not lied. By the end of their dinner, his parents loved her.

“Feels like old times,” Colt said into the phone. It was killing him, being alone in his bed, knowing Ivy was just a few floors down in hers. But it was the rules. He was just happy he didn’t have a roommate. Even with the team having their own floor, with the hundred-and-fifty-plus people they traveled with—including players, coaches, executives, trainers, managers, video staff, and medical staff—not everyone was as lucky.

“Is it crazy I miss you even though I was just with you less than an hour ago?”

He knew the feeling. Though they hadn’t been back together long, it was long enough for him to grow accustomed to having her wrapped in his arms all night. He stared at the cold, empty space beside him. “If it’s crazy then you have a partner in insanity to join you in the loony bin.”

Her raspy chuckle filled his ear, and he closed his eyes, sinking back into his pillow, savoring it. “Well, I better let you go. You need your beauty sleep for all those pictures they’ll be taking when you’re a Super Bowl champ.”

“No. Don’t hang up. If I can’t have you beside me, this is the next best thing. I want to fall asleep to your breathing.”

“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me. Slightly creepy, but romantic.”

He rolled to his side, tucking his phone between the pillow and his ear. “Go to sleep, Ivy.” But he’d said it with a smile.

“Sweet dreams.”

“With you in my life, nothing but.”

“I’ve changed my mind, that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said.”

“Well get ready because I have the next fifty-plus years to top myself.”

She was silent so long, he’d thought she’d fallen asleep. But then in the darkness with the silence of the room surrounding him, she whispered, “Colt?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’ve changed my mind again.”

He fell asleep with a smile on his face and dreamed of Ivy.

Ivy

Heart pounding, clutching Colt’s mom’s hand on one side and Emerson’s on the other, Ivy didn’t move her gaze from the field. More specifically, from Colt as he lined up behind the center. There was less than a minute left in the game and the Phantoms were down by three. They just needed to get close enough to kick a field goal to tie the game. She’d seriously never been more nervous in her life. Her heart was pounding so hard she expected it to burst from her chest at any moment, and she was feeling a little nauseous. She could only imagine how Colt was feeling at the moment.

She didn’t get a chance to see Colt that morning—the team had been up and out of the hotel before she’d even woken up—but she did text him good luck. She’d just wished she’d thought to say it the night before.

And she might also feel the tiniest bit guilty she’d spent the day exploring the city with Emerson while he was stuck doing who knew what to prepare for the game but made herself feel better by rationalizing that he probably would’ve hated all the shopping they’d done.

With the black sky as a backdrop and the stadium lights shining on the field, she was reminded of the picture she’d painted. She’d been wrong. A field was happiest with players running across its turf and spectators in the stands cheering them on. She wouldn’t change her painting. Colt had loved it and had given it the spot above the fireplace. But she would paint another—its counterpart—and she’d paint exactly what she saw now. Two teams locked in battle each determined to win.

Football in all its beauty.

The ball was snapped, and Ivy didn’t take her eyes off Colt. It was third down, but they only needed a few more yards to be in field goal range. If Colt could just keep from getting sacked, she knew they could do it.

She watched as he maneuvered around the pocket, dodging the defense until his offensive line could come to the rescue. He let the ball fly. Ivy got to her feet, Emerson plastered to her side, clutching her hand so tight she was sure to lose circulation. But who needed a hand when she figured she’d die from a heart attack anyway.

Because Colt didn’t just throw the ball to one of his close teammates to gain a few yards. No, he had aimed for the end zone.

Breath held. Heart beating a hole through her chest. Ivy didn’t dare take her eyes off the ball as it sailed. It arced high into the air, spinning as it made its dive.

Falling.

---