I hit the ground hard, the cold indoor turf hitting my back as I suck in a breath.

“Are you trying to fucking kill us?” Connor dry heaves, collapsing beside me.

“Only trying to get you fucking ready for the Super Bowl. Or do you not want to win a ring?” Anthony cackles, putting his notebook down, and I hope that means we get a bit of a break.

The Cheetahs made the playoffs, and then we made the NFC championship, and then we won. I can’t say I’m surprised, our team is really fucking good. But … there is something in my bones. It feels the same as the three other times I’ve been in this position, and with the sun setting on my career, some kind of fated feeling is settling over me.

Little does anyone know though, that I’m not coming back next year. Whether we win or lose, I’m hanging up the jersey, I’ll have seen my last fifty-yard line.

“Yeah, I want the ring. I also want to be able to walk onto the field in two weeks, too.” Connor pouts, gulping down the contents of his water bottle. “Hey, man, congratulations by the way. A little boy, huh?”

Anthony smiles and inclines his head at Connor. “Thanks, bro, we are really excited.”

“What’s that?” I’ve been so caught up in Demi that I’ve missed some of our training sessions, opting to workout on my own to get home to her quicker.

“My wife and I are expecting again, a little boy in June.” He beams, and you can feel the pride coming off of him.

“Congratulations, man, that is awesome.” I pat him on the shoulder, and inside a pang of jealousy ripples through my stomach.

Not because I want Anthony’s life, but because I want to have a child. I shouldn’t have wasted so many years, shouldn’t have been so selfish. Now I’m retiring, and I feel like I’ve put my life on hold for this sport with nothing to show for it but some silly rings and bragging rights.

Do I think Demi would go for letting me knock her up tonight?

“Damn, I can’t imagine having a kid, though.” Connor shakes his head as if I need to explain the birds and the bees to him.

“That’s because you are a kid. I can’t imagine you having one either.” Anthony laughs.

“Like, what do you feed a kid? It’s not like a dog, where the food is clearly labeled in the store and you just pour it in a bowl on the floor twice a day. Hell, I can’t even do that. It’s why I don’t have a dog.” Connor keeps going.

I have to crack up at that one, because he is so clearly out of his league in this conversation. “Note to self, never ask you to babysit.”

“Why, you thinking about getting that fine-ass woman of yours pregnant?” He winks at me.

Actually, it was what I was just thinking about. “Maybe … in the future.”

“Damn, you don’t mess around, Shaw.” Connor whistles.

Anthony studies me, because he must know the look on my face. “Yeah, he wants to knock her up. Right now, if I’m correct. I’d know that face anywhere; it’s certainty. I felt it when I met my wife, and I can damn sure tell that you feel that way about Demi. Just put a ring on it first, I’m a traditional kind of guy.”

“Oh, I plan to.” I nod, and they both exchange a glance.

What they also don’t know, aside from my retirement bombshell, is that I’d spent three hours at the most prominent jewelry store in Charlotte the other day.

Only to leave empty handed because none of the rings had felt right.

I called Dylan and asked him to go into the safe at our parent’s home and get Mom’s ring. He’d FaceTimed me to show me the ornate, rose gold antique … a family heirloom passed down through the generations. It had been my mother’s engagement ring and had been returned to us when she passed.

I knew right then that it was meant for me to give to Demi. I’d had him send it to me, securely, and the box had arrived just three days ago.

“Well, tell us what the plan is!” Connor semi-shouts, and they must have been staring at me longer than I realized.

“Yeah, give us the romantic details,” Anthony chimed in.

“This is what you guys want to talk about in our manly athletic facility, just weeks before the Super Bowl?” I avoided the subject, mostly because I had no idea what I was going to do yet.

They looked at each other, and exclaimed at the same time, “Yes!”

I shifted on the ground, picking a blade of fake grass. “Well, truth be told, I don’t know yet.”

Looking up, they both had disappointed expressions in their faces.

“Okay, well, what does she like? My wife, for instance, loves ice cream. So I had a pint made up, planted in the grocery store, and when we went to pick it out one night, I made sure she saw it. Then I got down on one knee right there in the middle of Whole Foods.” Anthony smiled.

“Dude, that’s actually kind of brilliant. Will they make those for anybody, like even if you’re not getting engaged?” Connor looked like he had some sort of idea, and it had nothing to do with marriage.

We ignored him, carrying on our conversation. “I mean, Demi, she’s simple. She likes curling up on the couch, reading. I think she’d like for me to do something simple and private, but at the same time, I’d like to announce it to the world. For … past reasons.”

No one knew about us hooking up in college. Not that I cared if they did, but it seemed unnecessary to let people all the way into our business like that. However, I still felt guilt about how I treated her back then. And if I could make up for that by announcing to the whole world that I wanted her to be my wife, then I wanted to do it. I wanted to shout from the rooftops that I was in love with Demi Rosen, and that I wanted to spend my entire life with her.

“Sounds shady as fuck, just saying. But, my dude, you have the world on a string this week, you have the perfect stage. Hello, Super Bowl proposal? I’d say you can’t go wrong if you whip that diamond out after we win us a ring.”

Connor sent me a thumbs-up after speaking his idea, and I had to admit …

It was a damn good idea.