The Crush (86)

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered into my ear.

I kissed her again, resting my forehead against hers for just a moment, then hugged each of my sisters. My mom. Then my dad—who was suspiciously bright-eyed.

“Don’t cry,” I told him, as he thumped my back in a bruising hug.

“I’m not crying,” he said, voice gruff. “Just … really fucking happy, son.”

It was a bit of a whirlwind after that—more press, and a few short meetings before Coach walked with me and Dad to the locker room.

I’d still need to prove myself, but so far, every player on the roster who greeted me was excited to have me there. There was no hostility, no guarded looks, no reserved greetings for the son of the defensive coach.

I was their new quarterback, and in just a few months time, we’d take the field as a team—as a family.

The whole time I walked through the halls and fulfilled the signing day requirements, I kept that paper clip firmly in hand.

When I found Adaline, waiting with my mom and sisters in one of the front offices, I watched them from the doorway for a moment before interrupting. It was her sister-in-law Lydia’s office, and on Adaline’s lap was their one-month-old baby, Isla. Isla had a shock of black hair like her dad, a button nose and a scream that could wake the dead.

Everyone in the Wilder family adored her.

Was it terribly neanderthal of me that I couldn’t wait for her to be pregnant with our first child? Adaline and babies did something to me.

That paperclip ring felt like it was burning a hole through my hand.

Adaline was telling them a story that had my sisters cackling, something about when I cracked my elbow on the shower wall in our rental.

“So that’s why,” Adaline said, “our house will have the most obnoxiously large shower room that’s ever existed.”

“Because he hit his funny bone,” Isabel said with a shake of her head. “What a man thing to do.”

“Hey,” I interrupted. “I’m not even here to defend myself.”

Adaline laughed, standing from the couch and handing the baby back to Lydia. She gave the baby a kiss on the top of her head, and walked straight into my open arms. “I’m sure it hurt.”

I kissed her, lingering over the sweet softness of her lips. “I thought I broke it.”

“I remember.” Her eyes sparkled. “I think I did an okay job of distracting you from the pain though,” she whispered.

It was that sparkle in her eye, after the emotional magnitude of the day. I almost blurted it out right there.

Marry me.

But I held the words in, somehow.

“Walk with me to the field?” I asked her. “I want to take a minute there.”

“Ooh, can we come?” Molly asked.

“Nope.”

She sighed. “Fine. You’re allowed a moment alone without us.”

Adaline laughed, wrapping her arm around my waist as mine curled over her shoulder. We walked like that down the halls of the Washington front offices.

An intern from the PR department stopped us. “Wait … one more for social media, please.” Adaline and I smiled dutifully, and the girl gave us a thumbs up when she checked. “Perfect. Everyone will go crazy for this one.”

We continued toward the field, and I glanced over at Adaline. “You ready for all that?”

“I’m ready for every single second,” she whispered, tipping her chin up toward me.

I gave her a quick kiss, and then pulled away when a security guard walked past.

“Can we go in?” I asked him.

He laughed. “I think you do just about whatever you want today, Mr. Quarterback. The field is yours.”

The tunnel was quiet and dark, but the lights were on as we walked in hushed silence.

Adaline slowed as I did, at the edge of the field. Neither of us said a word while I looked around the empty stadium.

She leaned her head on my shoulder and I pressed a kiss there.

“What’cha thinking about?” she asked quietly.

I didn’t answer right away, because I was still having a hard time processing that I’d ended up standing at the edge of that field, holding the woman who had my heart. Hardly a year earlier, something like this felt impossible.

All I had were the barest threads of hope—the thought of what could’ve been. And a crazy idea that shouldn’t have worked.

“About how long it took to get here,” I told her.

Adaline laughed under her breath. “You’ve earned it, Mister Quarterback.”

“No.” I pulled away so that I could face her. “I mean here,” I said, intertwining my fingers with hers so that I could kiss the top of her hand. “With you.”

Adaline’s eyes glossed over, her grip tightening in mine.

“None of this would matter half as much without you,” I told her. “You know that, right?”

She nodded, a tear escaping from her long lashes.

“I love you, Adaline.”

“I love you too,” she whispered.

“Remember how we had a whole plan of what made sense for our life?”

Her brow furrowed. “Yes?”

“I think I’m about to blow it to shit.”

She exhaled a laugh. “Now what?”