Page 78 of Write Me For You
A hand on my shoulder broke my trance, and I turned to see Coach. “You ready, son?”
I nodded just as the announcer said, “Please, welcome back to the field, number nine, Jesse Taylor!”
The people in the stands went wild. June squeezed my hand twice and started to let go, but that wasn’t happening. She had told me that the book she was writing, our alternate story,couldn’t have happened without me. Well, I felt the exact same way about my football.
Pain sliced through my heart at those girls who had made my girl feel less than, insecure. What they didn’t know was that June was my strength, she was my heart, she was the reason I was still alive—twice over.
It was time to show the world that, without her, there was no me.
I took a step forward and brought June with me. “Jesse! What are you doing?” June hissed, but I looked to her and smiled.
“Group two for the win.” I raised my fist, and June’s startled stare softened. She ducked her head to look at everyone in the one-hundred-thousand-seat stadium on their feet through the entrance of the tunnel. Then, she took in a deep breath and held up her fist.
“Group two for the win,” she whispered, and hand in hand, like we always should be, we headed onto the field.
The stadium erupted when they saw us, and I could hear Chris and Emma shouting from behind us. I glanced to June as we stepped onto the grass and her eyes were huge. I lifted my hand and waved to the stadium in thanks.
We were in full view on the Jumbotron. If I’d thought June would have appreciated it, I would have dropped to my knee right then and asked her to be my wife. But that wasn’t her. She wanted a simpler life, a quieter one. She didn’t want the fanfare. But with her hand in mine, here on the field, it was telling the world that June Scott was my life, my heart and forever, and whoever thought she didn’t deserve a place by my side could, frankly, fuck off.
“Jesse…” June whispered as she released my hand and held on to my arm. I dropped a kiss on her head and waved again. I had dreamed of this as a kid, standing in the middleof a football field to rapturous applause. Now, it paled in significance to the love of my life holding my arm like I was then reason she breathed.
With one last wave to the crowd, we headed back into the tunnel as my team ran out, clapping my hand as they passed.
“Okay, that was movie-level epic,” Chris said, slapping me on the back.
“You okay, June?” Emma laughed.
June shook her head, shell-shocked, and looked to me. “I have no idea how you do that week in and week out. It was terrifying!”
I kissed her on her head, and we moved to our seats to watch. But the game wasn’t what held my attention. I kept looking at June, my phone burning a hole in my pocket. I had a call to make; I had someone’s permission to get.
Then I’d ask my girl the most important question I’d ever ask anyone in my life.
CHAPTER 27
Jesse
“She’s still at the stables?” I asked Mrs. Scott as she hungthe lights up in the rec room.
Mrs. Scott laughed. “Yes, for the thousandth time. We’ve got this covered, Jesse.”
I nodded, then blew out a long breath, hands on my hips. “I haven’t seen you this nervous in…” my mom said, trying to think. “Never.”
“It’s a big day, Mom,” I said, and her eyes shiny with unshed tears.
“I know it is, sweetheart.” She kissed me and went to help Mrs. Scott finish hanging the lights before she broke down again.
I ran my hand over my neck, then looked up to see Mr. Scott walking through the doors with Chris. They were carrying more decorations. Chris tapped me on the back as he passed. My stomach fell as I looked to my best friend.
When June and I had told him our palliative status, he was devastated. I hated seeing him this way, so defeated, so I broke the tension by saying,“Hell, you chose the wrong team, Chris. Out of the four of us, you’re the only one who’s making it out alive. Chemo Club for one!”Chris couldn’t help but laugh and ithad been the lightness we’d needed to break through the heavy sadness.
Mr. Scott stood in front of me. “You ready, son?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, with 100 percent conviction. Mr. Scott put his hand on my shoulder, and I remembered when I’d crossed the yard from the ranch to the parent’s quarters a few days ago.
“Jesse?” Mr. Scott said as he found me at his door. “Is June okay?” His face had gone ashen.
“Yes, sir,” I said, fighting back my nerves. “I’ve come to ask you something.”
