It was a bold fucking move, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared as shit. Shayne is still reserved and not sure of me being here, but hasn’t totally pushed me out of the picture.

Coach and Momma Pete used part of their timeshare renting a beautiful condo near the hospital. They welcomed me in with open arms. Today’s Shayne’s final surgery, and she’ll be in the hospital for a solid week and then cooped up in the condo.

Her parents are flying out a few days after the operation. I’m struggling to process this fact. They have business to attend to and have let me know their girl will be in good hands. Only if they knew what I want to do to their little girl they may not be so trusting. Over the last few days with the family, I’ve quickly learned Shayne is an independent person who has busted her ass off in the gym her entire life.

This little fact should never have escaped me. Back then when we were hiding during our make-out sessions, I was absorbed in complete Ryder mode. The thought makes me physically ill. I’ll spend the rest of my life making that up to my girl.

“Ryder Prescott.”

I hear my name being called out turn to see who exactly is calling it. A good-looking guy dressed in scrubs rushing my way. The man is a looker if I do say so myself not that I’m interested or anything. He’s built with muscles and dark, styled hair. He shoots his hand out toward me.

“Jack Halston, your biggest fan.”

I give him a polite nod unable to shake his hand from the tray of coffee in my hands.

“Sorry, man, just a bit star struck here. Followed you since your Freshman year. Any idea where you’re going to land up next year in the NFL?”

“No.” I smile shyly.

Shit like this happened all the time back in Florida, but since I never leave the state much, I had no idea others even knew of me let alone would recognize me in the hospital.

“Well, you have a fan. Where ever you go I’ll be following you.”

“Thanks, Sir. I’m just a bit shocked here. Means a lot, though.”

“You have family here?” He asks.

Jesus, I’ll give it to the man. He’s forward.

I don’t even have to think about the next sentence that leaves my mouth.

“My girlfriend’s here. Coach Pete’s daughter. Injured her knee at the National Collegiate Gymnastics competition. Coach Pete found the best surgeon here even though it’s primarily a children’s hospital.” My voice waivers halfway through while the tray of coffee shakes in my hands.

The one of a kind doctor pats my shoulder gently. “Hang in there, buddy. She’s in good hands here.”

“Thanks. I better get going before they take her back.”

“See you around, Prescott.” His eyes shine bright like he just met a damn movie star.

The old Ryder who thought he only cared about his career would’ve been high-fiving himself with his ego inflating. Not going to lie, it’s a great feeling being recognized, but I’ve come to realize there’s so much more to life. Finding a balance is sweet so far.

I nudge open the door to Shayne’s room. Her parents sit in the chairs next to her bed. It’s the tears streaming down her face that have me worried. In haste, I hand off the coffee to Coach and go to her.

“Hey, what’s going?” I brush the side of her cheek soaking up her tears with my fingers.

Her blue eyes bore holes into me. “I’m scared, Ryder.”

Her tears flow faster and harder with her admission.

“Hey, now. You’re going to be okay.” I pull her into my chest holding her with all I have.

“I’m never going to be able to compete again.” Her sobs wracking her body.

I glance over to her parents and see they’re in similar conditions. This family is shredded, heartbroken to the core.

“You will, Shayne.” I sooth my palm down the back of her long, wavy, brown hair. “If it’s what you want then you’ll get there.”

“I…uh…I was also scared when you weren’t here this morning.”

I pull back a bit to stare into her eyes. Shayne has to look into my eyes for this part. Cupping her face in my hands, I begin to speak. “I’m all in, baby. No regrets.”

She has to believe my promise. I’ve never given her a reason to until now. She just has to.

“Baby, don’t go,” she whispers so softly I barely comprehend it.

I answer her with a searing kiss letting my lips devour her mouth. My hand locked in her hair. Shayne kisses me back not shy in the least that her parents are perched in chairs at the end of the bed.

“Kids.” Her mom warns in.

We finally break apart, but I don’t leave her side keeping one of my arms slung over her shoulder and tight to my side. Her mom goes over the plan in detail. It’s clear she’s a planner. Shayne grips my hand tighter in hers when her mother talks about them leaving in a few days.

“You’ll be here over the summer for physical therapy and to start your training,” Momma Pete says.

“Honey, Shayne has it.” Coach pats his wife’s leg. “They’ll be just fine here.”

Momma Pete flutters for a second, wiping away a stray tear. “Okay, okay.”

Holding Shayne while waiting for the OR to get her flies by. I need just one more second, one more minute, and several more moments to keep this girl. She’s scared, shattered and doesn’t deserve any of this. Thinking too much on the subject makes me hate the game of life along with football. Guilty as fuck since I’m healthy and on the brink of the living out my dream.

“I’ll be here when you’re out, baby.” I brush my hand over her forehead. “Everything is going to be alright. I promise.”

“Kiss me, Ryder.”

And I do. I kiss her hard and passionate hoping to give her all the strength and confidence she needs to get through this. The nurses don’t seem to care for our display and roll Shayne down the hallway.

I throw my head back staring up at the tiled ceiling with rectangle lights. The same thing Shayne is looking at right now. I do something I haven’t done in a long damn time. I pray.

I continue praying while following Shayne’s parents to the waiting room. We sit silently for hours watching the television monitor with different patient numbers scrolling across it. “In Surgery” the only update on her patient number. Time is a brutal enemy dragging along slicing me open each second.

“Prescott.”

I look up to see the man from hours before, but this time he has a football tucked under his arm and a gorgeous brunette woman trying to pull him back. They’re dressed in matching scrubs and apparently connected in some way.

“Honey, this is even a new low for you,” she whispers, but only it wasn’t so much of a whisper.

“Love you, Elle, but don’t come between a man and football.” He smacks her ass playfully.

She blushes a bright red seeming to give up on the fight and then covers her face standing next to him.

“Sent one of my interns out to get this today. Would you mind signing it?”

I quirk up an eyebrow when he pulls out a Sharpie marker for me to sign it. Jack shoves the ball in my hand eager as a little boy on Christmas morning. I notice the name badge clipped to his front pocket that reads, “Dr. Halston, Pediatric Vascular Surgeon.” In pure curiosity, I gaze over to the woman’s badge, and it seems her credentials are very similar along with matching last names.

“No problem.” My hand trembles taking the ball in my hands.

I’ve autographed items time and time again. But right now I’m fucking terrified for the future. Shayne being crushed over never performing again gutted me.

“Sorry, a bit distracted.” The sharpie meets the ball, and I sign away. “You want Coach’s signature?”

I point to Coach Pete relaxed back in his chair wearing a University hoodie and a somber expression. Not like the man when there’s football in proximity or even the promise of football talk. So much has changed in such little time and it took a horrible accident for both of us assholes to wake up.

“Holy shit,” Jack says.

The woman next to him elbows him hard in the ribs. “Jack.”

“Elle, this is Coach Pete, the best college football coach in history.”

On cue, Momma Pete chimes in offering up hospitality. She points them each to a chair, and if we were back in Florida, she’d have a platter of food for them along with a cold drink.

Coach ends up signing the ball while Momma Pete nervously explains everything about Shayne’s condition.

“You guys made an excellent decision bringing her here. Dr. Manuels only flies in once a month, but is the best in the world,” Elle says.

Jack talks football with Coach Pete, which is a well-needed distraction for him. I’m caught in the middle keeping up with both conversations. I don’t want to be rude ignoring the football talk, but listening about Dr. Manuels’ skills soothes my fear.

“Yes, that’s why we brought her here.” Momma Pete wipes away a few stray tears rolling down her make-up streaked face. “My husband and I are flying home in a few days. I’m just sick about leaving her.”

Elle appears to be a bit confused at this point. I step into to help clear up the confusion. “I’ll be staying behind with her through the recovery process.”

Elle nods still not putting all the pieces of the puzzle together. It’s not my place to claim her as my girlfriend and act as the noble boyfriend sacrificing time for her. It’s exactly what I want, but have to earn it.

“Ryder will be with her,” Momma Pete says offering no other explanation.

Elle’s knowing nod letting me know she understands there’s more to us than we’re explaining. It’s the unknown message that every great love story is ugly and far from scar free zone.

She reaches out a hand placing it on Momma Pete’s kneecap. “My husband is a bit obsessed with Ryder and football. We practically live here and will watch after the kids. It would be our honor.”