Page 97 of Fumbled Beginning

“Without a doubt.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, thinking it over. “Can I have the right side of the bed?”

He grinned. “If that’s what it takes.”

I tapped my lip. “Will you give up your half of the closet?”

He chuckled. “You can have the whole thing.”

I grabbed on to his shirt and peered into his eyes. “Will you let me cook dinner one night a week?”

His face tightened like he was in physical pain. “Sure.”

I patted his chest. “You got yourself a roommate.”

EPILOGUE

The crowdat Westman Stadium was loud, making it difficult for the Arrows to call their offense. I practically grew up in football stadiums, and I don’t remember being this anxious when Maverick played. I was no stranger to screaming fans, but watching JP play his heart out in the last game of his career was bittersweet. I wanted this win for him almost as badly as he did, but their chances of clinching the Super Bowl title were slowly slipping away. They were down by three points, with less than a minute remaining in the fourth quarter.

They ground it out all season but still managed to sweep through three playoff games to claim the NFC Championship. I’d hate to see them lose when they were so close.

“I can’t believe people actually pay thousands of dollars to sit in these uncomfortable seats,” Mike said next to me. I wanted to laugh because he wasn’t wrong, but I couldn’t care less about the seats because I’d been standing the entire time.

“You could have sat up in the suite with your mom and dad,” I shouted above the noise. Greg was slowly starting to reach out to JP on a more regular basis, but they still had a way to go. Greg and Vicky had since divorced and he was trying his best to win Jennie back, but I didn’t see that happening anytime soon.

“Nah, it’s safer down here.” He laughed, offering me a piece of his pretzel, but I was too focused on the clock dwindling down to fifteen seconds.

“Where’s the flag?” I yelled out when JP got tackled at the forty-nine-yard line.

“Here,” he said, trying to hand me his beer as if it would somehow calm me down.

My hands were shaking, and my focus was on the field. “I don’t think I can take much more of this.”

“At least this is the last one.” He squeezed my hand for moral support.

Thank goodness for that. I was sick of him getting hurt. I was sick of the bruises. If I was honest, this was ten times worse than watching my brother play. It brought me great relief to know he was done.

He considered playing for a couple more seasons but didn’t want to risk it. His body had paid the price over the years, but thankfully, he was still healthy enough that we could enjoy the rest of our lives together.

My heart started to accelerate when I saw the team huddle and place their arms on each other’s shoulders. They started spinning around in a circle and randomly broke from the huddle before running to their assigned positions. JP sprinted to the line, where he was able to line up in a single coverage. The ball snapped so fast that the defense couldn’t make the proper adjustments.

Brent dropped back as his offensive line built a protective pocket for him to work with. He launched a fifty-five-yard pass that flew like a missile and landed perfectly over JP’s right shoulder and into his waiting arms. He slipped out of the tackle with a powerful leap and ran with such speed with two of the fastest defensive linemen in the NFL on his heels that I was ready to have a heart attack. My guy was a beast as he crossed the goal line and rolled across the turf.

The refs threw their hands up in the air, calling it a touchdown, and all hell broke loose. Every single teammate on the field rushed over and lifted him in the air. I could practically hear his laugh as they all took turns passing him around. They would likely get fined for the theatrics, but it didn’t look like they cared.

The refs blew the whistle, and they all ran back to the sidelines while the kicker lined up. The ball went sailing through the goalpost, making it official. They won by four points.

Everyone around me started high-fiving and banging on their seats. The stadium turned into a madhouse when they announced the Atlanta Arrows as the Super Bowl Champions. Blue and orange confetti rained down on the stadium as the entire team ran onto the field.

JP pulled off his helmet and searched me out in the stands. He knew exactly where my seat was. He reserved the entire row for both of our families and close friends. Everyone was here but Maverick and Kinley. Their second baby was due any day, so they didn’t make the trip.

I had to squint to see his face, and I might not have been close enough, but I could feel his eyes smiling. He patted his heart three times and pointed to me. I blew him a kiss, and he crooked his finger and motioned to the field.

“I think he wants you down there,” Mike yelled into my ear so I could hear him over the noise.

Without waiting another second, I pushed against the crowd and made my way to the field. Two security guards greeted me.

“Are you Rylee?” the one with red hair asked.

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