And when we win tonight, we lock down a 12–4 record for the regular season, and a stadium full of happy fans.
I’m stoked for the victory, but that’s not what I want most to win tonight.
Fortunately, one of the benefits of my position on the team is that the sports reporters usually seek me out first. Tonight, Jillian makes sure of it. As soon as the game ends and the media hits the field, Jillian sends Sierra, the reporter who emceed the auction, to interview me. The perfectly coiffed and polished redhead is working tonight for the network carrying the game and she’s exactly who I want to speak to right now.
I steal a glance at the sidelines, hoping to catch a glimpse of Violet. But the field is too crowded, the stands too stuffed with fans. I can’t make her out, and I have to trust that Trent and Holly are doing their part, right next to my mom, who’s here, too. Their job? Don’t let Violet leave, and make sure she tunes into the post-game on her phone.
Sierra fires off a few standard game questions, and I answer Crash Davis-style, then she switches gears. “And now, for the talk of the town. Word is you’re re-upping with the Renegades, and they’ve offered you a four-year contract. Can you tell us more about that?”
I flash a smile as I answer. “I couldn’t be happier to stay, and none of this would be possible without an owner like Jasper Scott, who’s committed to putting the best team on the field, and to Mike Greenhaven, who knows exactly what to do with that team. I’m grateful to the owner and the coach and the entire organization for giving me the chance to stay on.”
In my peripheral vision, Jillian motions to Sierra, giving her some kind of signal to ask the next question. “And is there any particular reason that you want to stay here in San Francisco?”
I can’t help it. I grin like a man in love. I’m not sure what Violet will say to this public declaration. But I think I saw it in her eyes yesterday when I made love to her against the door. A look then that said she felt the same crazy beating in her heart that I felt in mine. That I still feel when I think of her.
For now, I say goodbye to the Crash Davis school of media relations and speak from the heart. “It’s about a girl. Sometimes that’s what makes a man want to stay. I love the fans, I love the city, and I love that my family is here. But more than that, there’s someone in this town who I’m madly in love with.”
Sierra’s green eyes light up. “Do tell.”
I’m not going to confess on national TV all the details of how we started. All anyone needs to know is the girl they think I’m with is the girl I want. “I hope she wants to stay with me. I hope she wants to be with me for a whole lot longer than the contract I just signed.” Now I turn to the camera, since I’m not talking to Sierra anymore. I’m talking to the woman I hope is watching on her phone at the fifty-yard line.
Behind me, teammates and reporters stream across the field, while fans cheer as they make their way out of the stadium. But my world is small now. My words are for one person only. “Violet, I’ve been falling in love with you since high school, and it’s not stopping. I fall more for you every single day. I want you to be mine, to keep being mine, every night. I don’t want this to end. Ever.”
Sierra brings her hand to her heart and gasps. “That is so sweet. I love it when the quarterback falls in love with the hometown girl and stays with her.”
“That’s exactly what I hope is happening in my life.” I glimpse a commotion on the sidelines. I don’t even try to rein in a smile as a sweaty, dirty Jones, still in his uniform, escorts Violet onto the field. That was his job. To go to security in her section, and then bring her to me.
Violet has never looked prettier as she race-walks to me in her jeans and a Renegades sweatshirt. She’s smiling, and she looks as if she’s crying, too.
She picks up the pace, but I won’t let her run to me. I need to run to her.
“Thank you, Sierra. I need to see my girl.”
And I go running to Violet, scooping her up and wrapping her in my arms. I gaze into her eyes and tell her face-to-face what I told the whole world. “I love you so much.”
“Shut up,” she says, but she’s grinning.
“You want me to stop talking?”
“Never, but you’re crazy,” she says, sniffling as she cups my cheeks. “You’re so crazy, and I’m so in love with you, and you better have meant every word.”
I laugh, and happiness floods every corner of my body. “Every. Single. Word.” I press my sweaty forehead to hers then pull back. “I am so ridiculously in love with you they’re going to need a new word for it. I want you to pick out pink polka-dot towels with me, and sing Miley Cyrus, and beat me in Madden, and I want you to be mine. I want you all the time, baby. When I said since high school, I meant it.”