Page 233 of Tangled with the Tight End

The crowd is still going nuts, shouting and whooping. Thunder players are all in the end zone slapping one another on the backs and rears, hugging and doing celebratory dances.

Declan looks in our direction. He’s about thirty yards away, and I see him on the screen, but then my eyes drop to watch him in person.

Declan lifts the microphone. His voice booms through the stadium. “Thunder Nation!”

The stadium explodes in one unified chant. “Go Thunder!”

The cry rolls through the stands, followed by the familiar rhythmic stomping that builds to a rumble beneath our feet. “We are Thunder!” someone shouts behind me.

The people around him join in, chanting “We. Are. Thunder.” in unison to our stomps. Across from us, Packers fans are clearing out of their section.

Declan grins, his eyes roving around the stadium as he lets the moment wash over him. He lowers the microphone and waits.

Gradually, the cheers fade. Linc and Delaney stand, flanking him.

“Our fans are the best,” Declan says.

Treyvon grabs the mic and says, “Thunder fans forever!”

His outburst incites another roar.

Declan takes the mic back and nods, smiling, then glances toward our section.

“If it's okay with you …” Declan pauses, swallowing hard. “There's someone in this crowd I need to talk to.”

A chorus of cheers answers him. Someone whistles. Another fan shouts, “Do it!”

I glance at Cass. She’s beaming like the cat who ate the canary.

The tickets. They were from Declan?

Tears well in my eyes.

Declan chuckles under his breath. He clears his throat again.

And he stares straight at me. I can barely make out his features from this distance. I glance at the Jumbotron. On the screen, I can see everything—the sweat on his face, the tightness around his eyes, the way his face grows serious when he looks toward our section.

I look at him again, thirty-five yards away, he’s smaller, more distant. But I still see him. I see the things no one else knows. The way his shoulders settle. The way he stands when he’s bracing himself. The way he turns toward me as if the whole stadium has fallen away.

Declan speaks into the silence. “When someone matters to you, you need to protect that person with everything you have.” He shakes his head lightly. “And I didn't do that …”

“When the media and social media came for my girlfriend, I didn’t fight for her. But today, all that changes.”

His eyes rove the crowd. “You don’t know Winona.”

He returns his focus to our section of the stands. “But I do.”

He spreads his free arm out. “And I’m standing here in front of thirty or forty million people who just watched the Thunder win our first playoff game of the season.”

The crowd erupts in a fresh wave of cheers.

When they settle, he says. “I let the love of my life down in front of the world. And I’m here to fight for her in front of all of you today.”

“Winona, I know you’re here. I love you. You are everything to me. And I’m sorry. If you give me a chance, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll spend every day of my life showing you how much you mean to me. And if you’re with me, we’ll fight together.”

I can't help myself. And I don’t care who’s watching or filming or what they think of me. Only one person matters. I stand and shout. “I love you too, Declan!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my face fill the jumbotron, but my focus stays on the man who has handed the mic to Linc and is jogging over toward me.