Page 227 of Tangled with the Tight End

“Not when you’re doing that.” I point to her face and make a circling motion with my pointer finger. “You’re up to something.”

“Do you trust me? Don’t I always have your back?”

“You have my back. Always. More than anyone else on earth.”

“Then come to the game with me. I’ll be right there. And Daisy will be on the other side of you. Patrick’s bringing her.”

“And they just happen to have seats next to ours? Fishy.”

“It’s a miracle, I know. Maybe it’s a sign that you’re meant to go.”

I look at her sideways. But then, I relent. I may be hurting, but I really would love to see Declan play in the playoffs. Even if my heart breaks a little more watching him and knowing I’ll never be his. And I want to see Delaney … Pierce … Linc … all the guys. I miss them too.

“I might need pastries on reserve for the days following the game. And ice cream.”

“You get all the sweets!” She does a little shimmy. “Oh! Yay!” She points her finger at me. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“I want to see Declan play,” I admit. “Even if it kills me.”

“I don’t think it will kill you. If I thought that, I wouldn’t be asking you to come. I really would ask Dad.”

“He really might spring a leak if you did.”

“I know. One day … We can take him another time.”

“We. You’re being optimistic here. This might be the only time I can stomach watching Declan play in person.”

“Just give me this one time.”

“Okay.”

I barely sleep that night, tossing and turning. Thoughts of Declan and the upcoming game overwhelm me. I’m eager to see him play. But every time I think of sitting in the stands, I remember the harsh way I was treated at the last home game, and then my thoughts slide down the slippery slope to replay our breakup. Seeing Declan will be a painful reminder he’s not mine anymore.

He won’t know I’m there.

Should I tell him I’m coming?

No. He doesn’t need the distraction.

The Thunder is playing Green Bay.

Green Bay reminds me of the chocolates and cheese curds Declan brought back for me. A montage of images floats through my sleep-resistant mind like a movie in slow motion.

By Sunday morning, I’ve had two full days of Winona for Hire and two restless nights.

I sleep in to make up for my exhaustion.

When I wake, Cass is already up, wearing her Thunder jersey. Her brown hair is braided with orange, white and blue ribbons interspersed in the braids.

I’m about to tell her she looks adorable when she shouts, “Eat and shower! Patrick, Daisy, Emberleigh and Syd will be here in a half hour.”

“Emberleigh and Syd?” I rub my eyes, heading straight for the coffeepot. “How did they get tickets?”

“No more questions. Just get ready.”

I stop in the middle of the kitchen. “Cass. Tickets. How on earth did Syd and Emberleigh get tickets at that price? And, let me guess, they’re sitting with us.”

“No. More. Questions.” She walks to the refrigerator. “Here,” she says, pulling out the flavored creamer. “Do you want eggs? Oatmeal? Breakfast burrito?”