Page 90 of Sportsball is for Lovers

twenty-nine

. . .

Jared

We need to talk, Sadie’s texted. A second message came through immediately after the first. Nothing is wrong, everything is fine. I just really miss you.

Once my initial panic passed, I was able to reply that I missed her, too, and I’d see her soon.

Only two more days until she comes home.

Only two more days to decide what I want to do.

I wasn’t expecting the email.

We’d like to offer you a position as in-studio regional sports broadcaster for the Big Ten Network, they’d written. You would cover the conference’s hockey matches and daily news updates.

It’s not my dream job. It’s not something I applied for.

But it gets me to where I want to be.

The problem? The studio is based in Chicago.

And so when my two days are up, I find myself at the airport, holding a giant poster with her name on it and a bouquet of her favorite flowers. Her plan is to take the T back to the house since I’m supposed to be getting the place ready.

The house is already cleaned and organized. I was able to take care of that earlier today while I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Hundreds of people pass by. Her flight has landed. She should be here. Where is she??

Finally, I catch sight of her mess of wavy hair. She’s wearing one of my Grizzlies sweatshirts, the material hanging off her shoulder. Her phone is held to her ear.

My phone buzzes in my pocket with an incoming call. I ignore it.

She passes right by me, not seeing me.

“Sadie!” I call out.

Her steps falter.

I call her name again.

And I know the moment she sees me, because my heart contracts like there’s a fist around my organs, holding on for dear life.

What am I doing? What if she doesn’t want this?

Sadie rushes toward me. With a millisecond to spare, I drop the poster and flowers to the floor as she leaps into my arms.

Staggering back a few paces, I wrap my arms around her and breathe her in. Even with the lingering scent of eau de airplane, I can still smell her sweet perfume, and the familiar warmth of it sends tingles all the way down to my toes.

I’m fucking crazy about this woman.

“What are you doing here?” Sadie demands.

“I wanted to see you.”