Monday morning Mari got some good news for a change. The Children’s Museum called to schedule a job interview. She’d applied the previous week and was excited that she may soon have the opportunity to work with children again. The interview was scheduled for Wednesday.

Although she was grateful that a job may be just around the corner, a job she was certain she would love, another item on her calendar took up all of her thoughts. On Sunday the Vipers would be playing at home, and when the game ended and the players left the stadium, she would be there.

She needed to see Hank. In person. Not certain if she would approach him, or if she even wanted him to know she was there, she had to see him.

* * *

All week long it was all she could do to not think about Sunday, to not think about seeing Hank. But in reality, she was living for that day. The rest of the days were simply obstacles to getting there. Even her job interview, which went very well, wasn’t much of a diversion, and by the time Sunday morning arrived, she was up well before the sun.

Taking extra care with how she looked, when it was time to leave, she was shaking with nerves. The game started at eleven, and even though she was certain she wouldn’t have the chance to see him until after the game, she wanted to get there early.

As she drove to the stadium, she was worried she wouldn’t be able to see him at all. She’d never been to a professional football game before, and she’d read online that it was difficult to get near the players after the game. With no idea what to expect, when she reached the stadium, she parked in the huge lot and shut off the engine, then stayed where she was, her heart racing.

What would happen when—if—she saw him? Would she be able to hang back, or would she shove through the crowd just for the chance to get near him? What if he saw her? Would he look at her with disgust, with irritation that she would dare track him down? Or would he be happy to see her? Maybe he’d even feel bad about what he’d done to her, about the way he’d treated her. About the way he’d turned on her.

The more she thought about it, the more panicky she became, and when she felt a panic attack coming on, she gripped the steering wheel as she frantically looked around for something to focus on, something to anchor her. Then she looked at the stadium itself. It was huge and unmoving. Closing her eyes, Mari visualized the massive structure anchoring her to the earth, keeping her steady, keeping her calm. Finally, her breathing slowed and the attack ended.

Terrified that seeing Hank would send her into a fresh attack, she rethought this whole idea. Maybe she should turn around and go home and focus on things that were going well. Like her new job. On Friday the Children’s Museum had offered her the position she’d interviewed for and she’d accepted. She would start the next day, Monday. Things were looking up. Why did she want to torture herself with hurts from the past?

Because she had to do this. Had to face him.

* * *

Hank peeled off his sweat-soaked jersey. It had been a tough game, although they’d pulled out a win in the end. He made his way to the shower, flinching when the hot needles hit his fresh scrapes and bruises. Even though showering after a game could be painful, he was beyond grateful that he was healthy again, that his leg was one hundred percent again.

Scrubbing off the dirt and sweat from the game, Hank thought about the plays he was happy with and the plays he needed to improve.

Did Mari watch the game?

The thought took him by surprise, although maybe it wasn’t that surprising. He hadn’t gone a day without thinking about her since she’d left nearly three weeks earlier. He hoped she’d been able to find another nanny job. He was still angry with London for firing her, but at least London had promised to help Mari find another position. She’d also promised that she would let Mari see Harper from time to time. He knew that would mean everything to Mari.

Of course, all of that had been predicated on Hank agreeing to not contact Mari. When London had laid out the condition, he’d been about to refuse when she’d told him it was Mari’s idea.

The day before she’d left his house she’d said there was no point in telling London about their relationship because they weren’t going to be together anymore. At the time he’d been disappointed that she felt that way, but after learning that Mari preferred the options London offered over having contact with him, he knew he had to respect what she wanted. No matter how much it hurt.

He toweled off and got dressed.

* * *

The game was over. It had been more exciting to see a game live than she had expected, but the best part was seeing Hank. Even though he was far, far away from where she was sitting, she was closer to him than she had been in weeks.

The Vipers had won the game, and she wished she could be there to congratulate him, to celebrate with him. But he didn’t want her. She’d heard it for herself. He saw her as a mistake. A mistake he would not repeat. His voice saying those awful, cruel words rang in her head, making her chest ache like it was being squeezed in a vice.

Walking out of the stadium, she inhaled deeply. She was nervous about this next part. She needed to see him, and not from the stands. There was a blocked off area where players would sometimes greet fans and sign autographs.

That’s where she would go.

* * *

Thinking about Mari took away some of the high Hank felt over the Vipers’ win, but he knew of a sure way to rid himself of his melancholy. At least for a little while. He would stop by the fan area. It was always an ego boost to have fans clamoring for his autograph or for him to greet them. And the fans loved it. Especially after a win.

“Hey, Josh,” he said to the Vipers’ star quarterback. “You going to greet the fans?”

“Sure,” he said. “I can spare a few minutes, but then I have plans with Shay.”

“I’ll go,” Jax Cordova, the Vipers’ top pass rusher, said.

The three of them made their way out of the locker room and down the hall that led outside.

* * *

“There’s Wisner,” Mari heard someone call out excitedly.

She was standing behind the row of fans who were pressed up against the waist-high barriers that surrounded the area where the players would be appearing. That was the perfect place to be. She’d be able to see Hank without him seeing her. She knew how he felt about her, that he regretted getting involved with her. It was imperative that he not see her. If he did, it would only make things worse. Undoubtedly, he’d call security. Maybe he’d even have her arrested.

The thought made her exceedingly sad.

Forcing aside those thoughts, she peered around the man in front of her and managed to get a glimpse of Josh Wisner, the quarterback she’d watched play many times now. He stood on the far side of the space.

“Hank Parson’s coming,” someone shouted.

Mari’s heart stuttered before nearly pounding out of her chest. Standing on her tiptoes, she struggled to see over the shoulders of the people in front of her. At only five feet three inches, she was definitely shorter than most of the fans straining to see, but after bobbing her head one way and then another, she managed to get a look at him. He was less than ten feet away.

He looked amazing—tall, ripped, confident, and so freaking hot. Mari could hardly stand it. He was so close, but he might as well be on the moon. Vividly recalling the way it had felt to be held by those strong arms and to be kissed by those perfect lips, and remembering the look in his eyes when he’d told her he was in love with her, Mari nearly swooned as an overpowering yearning practically swamped her.

She couldn’t do this. This plan had been a terrible mistake. Seeing him only made her miss him more desperately than ever, made her heart shatter into a million more pieces.

Holding back a sob, she couldn’t tear her gaze from him. He was looking in her general direction, a wide smile on his face, the smile she knew so well. She pretended he was smiling at her, but she knew he couldn’t see her, not with all the people in front of her.

He took a step closer and the crowd around her moved toward him, calling his name, surging forward. Crushing her.

All of a sudden she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, knew she could suffocate to death. Absolute panic flooded her. No one seemed to notice her as the crowd shoved forward on a mission to reach him. Someone slammed into her from behind, smashing her face into the back of the man in front of her, while at the same time the person behind her, a large man with a huge belly, mashed her from behind in his frenzied effort to get Hank’s attention.

Lungs screaming for air, she struggled to breathe, but couldn’t draw a breath. Frantic to claw her way out, she tried to lift her arms, but her hands were pinned to her sides. Her ears began to buzz and dark spots formed in her vision. Then, mercifully, the crowd shifted slightly, allowing her to draw in a ragged breath.

On instinct, she screamed, “Hank! Help! They’re crushing me!”

* * *

Hank heard a woman cry out and thought he heard his name. Did someone need help or was someone just trying to get his attention? It was hard to be sure over the commotion. The crowd of fans was several people deep and he couldn’t see what was going on.

He heard a cry for help again and the woman’s voice sounded hysterical. Something was definitely wrong.

“Make some room,” he shouted, waving his arms at the fans pressed against the barrier. “Please! Step aside!”

The crowd parted like he was Moses himself.

That’s when he saw her, but he had a hard time believing it was her.

What was Mari doing here? She should be in Los Angeles.

“Mari?”

* * *

“Hank!”

He’d saved her. The crowd had opened up on his command and now the only thing separating them was the barrier. But the look of unbelieving confusion on his face made her realize her mistake. He wasn’t happy to see her. And now she would be arrested.

“Who’s that?” she heard someone near her ask, and she felt all eyes shift to her.

She ignored them, her gaze focused solely on Hank—the man she was in love with, the man she couldn’t live without. But that didn’t matter. He never wanted to see her again.

Frozen to the spot, her heart pounding with fear and sorrow, Mari gazed into Hank’s intense green eyes. This was her chance to tell him how she felt. Even if he hated her, she had to tell him what was in her heart.

Her lips lifted in a tentative smile. “I love you.” She put all the feeling of her heart into the words—the love, the missing, the regret. Then, when tears flooded her eyes, she began walking backwards. He didn’t want her in his life. She had to accept that, no matter how painful.

* * *

Shocked confusion at seeing her gave way to absolute joy, and when Hank heard Mari’s declaration of love, his heart nearly burst with happiness. Then her eyes filled with tears and she began backing away.

Where was she going? Why was she leaving? Was this her way of saying a final good-bye?

Not about to let her leave, he vaulted over the barrier and sprinted to her side. “Where are you going?”

Her familiar floral scent, uniquely her, slipped into his nose and his instinct was to drag her into his arms and kiss her. But he needed to talk to her, find out what the heck was going on.

* * *

He was right beside her, his handsome face inches away. Mari wanted to fall into his arms, but she knew that wasn’t why he was there. Without a doubt, he was going to keep her from leaving so security could arrest her.

Her tear-soaked eyes met his and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Hank. I shouldn’t have come.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll leave you alone. I promise. You don’t need to have me arrested.” Sorrow drenched every word.

His eyebrows slammed together. “What?” Then he shook his head. “You’re coming with me.”

Before she could reply, he swept her into his powerful arms and strode to the barrier, setting her on the inside before leaping over himself, then he put his arm around her shoulder and led her toward a door.

At least he would have her arrested in private. That was kind of him.

Leaving the clamoring fans behind them, they stepped through the door, then he stopped and faced her, threading his fingers through hers.

A kaleidoscope of emotions washed over her, top among them, confusion.

“We need to talk,” he said, and when he kept his hand in hers as he led her down the hall, Mari felt a spark of hope.