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“Right here,” my grandma says, pointing at me.
My face blooms red. The woman walks closer, setting them on the table behind us. “You must be special.”
I peer dreamily over at them, my heart rate finally evening out. The waft of perfume acts like a tranquilizer to my frayed nerves.
This man. He’s having the biggest day of his life thus far, and he’s sendingmeroses.
Briar pokes me in the side. “Well, look at the card. Maybe he knows something we don’t.”
I already know what the card will say. I don’t want to disappoint Briar, but I do want to read Cade’s words, so I pluck it from the plastic holder and open it.
When Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone, he had three missed calls from Chuck Norris.
I bite my lip, a smile playing over my lips, and at once, the stress whooshes from my body like an ocean wave.
“Well?” Briar asks.
I shake my head. “Just the usual lovey-dovey stuff.” I fold his card back up and put it in my pocket before sniffing the flowers. Cade knew I would need this. Even when he should be so focused on himself, he found time to think of me.
My eyes sting with unshed tears, but then Reid shushes everyone and unmutes the television in the front of the room. “It’s starting.”
Nearly at the same time, Coach T and my dad walk through the doors, both sweaty from the hotel gym. My dad wipes at his face with a towel, and it’s absolutely insane to think that this is the same man from six months ago. He’s nearly lost half his weight and is looking healthier than ever.
The first thing he does is walk toward me. He glances from the screen to my face and smiles before giving my free hand a squeeze. “Hey, Bumblebee. You okay?”
I nod. “I’m okay, Dad. Thanks.”
He leans over and kisses me on the cheek, and then does the same to Grandma before moving back over to Coach T who’s now standing with Lex.
Probably the best thing that happened to me since Cade is having my father and grandmother reconcile. She’d said,“If he can shed the hate he had in his heart for himself, then I can let go of my resentment. There. Done.”And that’s truly been that.
“Ahh, there he is!” Briar screams.
My gaze flicks back to the television, and there’s my boyfriend. He winks at the camera as it pans. The banner on the screen reads,Cade Farmer, WR, Estimated First Round Draft Pick.
It’s actually happening. How Cade looks so relaxed is beyond me. I know he’s feeling it. He told me. But on camera, he’s the picture of calm and serenity as if he knows exactly how this day will play out.
If I had an ounce of his charisma…
Just as the camera pans to someone else, I spy him take out his phone. For a moment, my heartbeat soars. He told me that often, players find out minutes or even seconds before their name is called.
A few seconds later, however, my phone buzzes. The man on the screen announces the number one draft pick. It’s not Cade. Statistically, wide receivers don’t go first in the draft, though, so it’s okay.
Cade: Watch this, Sunshine.
I smile and shake my head.
Me: Oh, I’m watching. You look damn sexy in that suit.
Cade: This old thing?
I send a heart-eyed emoji back, but then his texts stop. Minutes go by. More draft picks. I keep checking my phone, half-hearing the speakers on the TV.
Somewhere to my right, I hear buzzing. I check my phone, but it’s nothing, but then Reid stands from his chair. “Holy shit.” He works his fingers through his hair with his free hand while staring at his phone.
Just then, the guy on TV announces that the Wildcats have negotiated with another team for the next draft pick. We’re sitting at the ninth overall pick.
Briar stands up after him. “What is it? Reid?”