Page 88 of His Jersey

He shrugs. “Watched a video.”

“You also made sure I stayed hydrated and?—”

Carlos’s voice comes from the next room. “He refused to leave your side, which was a problem because, having just joined the Knights, he had some commitments. I can’t very well pretend to be him and stand in his place.”

“Those are big shoes to fill, but I dipped out a few times when it was essential.”

“Thank you. Again, I am so sorry. I hope I didn’t mess anything up.”

Jack caresses my jawline and rubs his thumb below my temple. “You’re in a brand new place, in a hotel, and got sick. I didn’t want you to be scared.”

“But what if you get sick now?” I ask, panicked.

“I’m made of ice and grit, Ella.” His tone is serious like he’s preparing to go to war. I try to think of when and where his next game is, but my mind is muddled.

Carlos says, “Good thing you’re all better now because he has to be on an airplane in two hours.”

“We’re playing against Colorado, so I won’t be gone long.”

“I can come if you want me in your jersey.”

He hesitates. “I do want to see you in my jersey again, but you have an appointment with a realtor.”

Carlos pipes up, “Leah is going with you.”

“If that’s okay?” Jack asks.

I nod because I also want to thank her for helping out while I wasn’t feeling good. That sickness hit me like a ton of bricks and I hope none of them come down with it.

Jack and I talk for a couple more minutes, but Carlos is antsy for them to get going.

He kisses me goodbye on the forehead. “We have a lot to talk about when I get back.”

I imagine it has to do with the team and our fake engagement arrangement. “I’ll be sure to watch the game.”

The pinch between his eyebrows erases and he grins like hearing that is akin to finding out that tomorrow is Christmas. I wonder what holidays were like in the Bouchelle household. He probably had fancy Santa presents wrapped in ribbon rather than repeatedly reused bows with double-sided tape, along with exotic trips on trains, planes, and automobiles. I have my doubts that it was the cozy kind of celebration with the house overflowing with a hodgepodge of decorations—some passed down through generations. I imagine that, much like Jack’s condo, they hired someone to decorate and it looked like a window display. Nothing wrong with that, love it, but I’ve gathered that part of him craves the kind of home I grew up in—maybe with a few modern upgrades—warm and cozy, lived in and loved. The way Jack made me feel when he was taking care of me.

Maybe I can make that happen after I’m done house-hunting.

34

ELLA

With renewedpurpose and restored health, I meet Leah in the hotel’s lobby with Bark Wahlburger at my heels.

“Glad to see you no longer look like the living dead,” she says, greeting the dog with lots of scratches.

“Was it that bad?”

She laughs. “No, but while you were in the shower, delirious from the fever you were singing a Disney princess song remix. Then you capped it off with ‘Ella and Jack, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.’”

I cuff her on the arm as we exit the lobby. “I was not.”

“If you’d been anywhere else but the shower, I would’ve recorded it for posterity.” She winces and then waves at the valet when we get outside.

He passes her the keys, which she defers to me. “Those are hers.”

I look around for Jack’s new truck, but only a white Mercedes and a black SUV sit under the swanky carport.

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