Page 155 of The Fine Line
“Cub.”
I shake my head, stunned.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he says, already moving toward me. “Turns out flowers are hard to come by in the middle of a Detroit winter. I had to hit four different shops before I found ones I thought you’d actually tolerate. I just?—”
I don’t let him finish. My coat falls from my hands as I run straight into his arms.
His voice cuts off as he catches me, wrapping me tight while shifting the bear and flowers to his other arm. He lifts me easily, his free hand burying into the back of my neck. My chin lands on his shoulder, and a laugh slips out—half joy, half relief.
“Attagirl,” he murmurs.
“I did it,” I whisper.
“Hell yes, you did. And you were amazing.”
“Like I was born for it?”
“No,” he says, pulling back just enough to brush my hair behind my ear, smirking. “Like you worked your ass off for it.”
I stare up at him. He sets me back on my feet, but the moment stretches between us—warm, electric.
Then—
“So… are you still heading out?” Luke asks, holding my champagne glass with a grin.
I glance at him, then at Rhett, and just as I’m about to answer, the exhaustion from the day hits me all at once.
“You know what?” I say. “I think I am. Please tell the guys thank you for the surprise.”
“You’re leaving?” Rhett asks, surprised.
“Yeah,” I nod. “I’m wiped. And I need to review the other games from tonight.”
“Okay,” he says softly. “I’ll walk you up.”
I smile faintly. “Sure. Thanks.”
The elevator ride is quiet, but the air hums with something unspoken. Rhett hands me the flowers and bear, and I can’t help the way my lips curve as I run my fingers between the soft petals. It was sweet. Unexpected. Almost too much.
But the smile fades the moment we step into my room and I hear the faint rustle of Rhett digging through his wallet behind me.
I turn, watching him at the threshold, something in me shifting.
I glance down at the flowers and bear before setting them carefully on the armchair. Crossing my arms, I lean against the wall as he fishes out his keycard.
“Good call,” I say softly.
He looks up, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Walking me to my room. The flowers. The teddy bear. All of it.” I offer a dry smile. “Very husband of you.”
He tilts his head. “You think?”
“In front of a bar full of teammates—and probably some fans? Linda would eat it up.”
Rhett drags a hand over his jaw, thoughtful. He steps forward, eyes flicking to the gifts Ijust set down.
“Well, Cub,” he says quietly, “I hate to break it to you, but that wasn’t me playing the part. That was just me trying to be a decent person.”
