by Tracey Ward
“Next step is I have it removed. Immediately.”
“Are you doing it here in France? Is there a specialist or something?”
“No. I’m having it done in L.A.”
“You came here just for me?” I whisper.
He nods seriously. “I had to see you.”
“One last time,” I fill in for him. “Just in case.”
His mouth comes together in a sad, straight line. “Yeah. Just in case.”
“What are your chances?” I choke out, my voice and heart cracking painfully.
“They’re good. It’s dangerous because it’s brain surgery, but Doctor Harlan is pretty sure he can get it out without any problems.”
“He’s pretty sure?”
Tyus squeezes my hand. “He’s confident. He’s an expert and he’s old. He’s done this a hundred times before. I trust him.”
“When is it happening?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“You have to go soon.”
He nods, his eyes on mine. He’s not asking me for anything. He’s not offering anything either, but it’s not because he’s still angry at me. It’s because he doesn’t know how much he can give. He doesn’t know how much time he has left.
But he’s here now and he’s holding my hand, and that’s all the promise I need.
I slide off the bed to kneel at his feet on the floor. Pushing his legs gently apart, I make room for myself in his space with my cheek against his chest and my arms around his waist. He hugs me loosely, dropping his mouth to my hair where I feel him breathe in and out, deep and even. His heart is a metronome in my ear and I struggle to match it. I let him set the pace and I swear that I’ll follow for as long as I’m able.
“What time do we leave?”
Immediately. We leave my hotel room the second I’m packed, and I manage that in record time. Everything I own is tossed in tight little balls inside my suitcase that will be one big wrinkled mess when we land, but I don’t care. I have to get Tyus back to L.A. as soon as possible. He shouldn’t have flown out to France in the first place, and I make sure to scold him about that one for the full thirty-minute cab ride from the hotel to the airport.
The son of a bitch smiles the entire time, like he’s loving it. Like he can’t get enough of me being a bitch to him.
When we get to the airport, Tyus tries to fly us commercial but I’m not having it. It’ll take too long and the stress of the busy terminal with hundreds of strangers is going to be brutal for him. It’s amazing how sick he looks. How frail. Like knowing what the problem is has made things worse. I can’t stand the idea of putting him through any more agony that he has to suffer, so I tell the driver to take us to the southernmost gate. From there, Tyus and I make our way to the somewhat hidden FBO terminal where private planes are chartered. The check-in area here is quiet and nearly deserted. It has its own security checkpoint that we pass through easily considering I have one badly packed bag and Tyus is completely empty handed. Except for me, for my hand. He took hold of it in the hotel room and he’s barely let go since. Every time we’re forced apart, his hand finds its way back to mine almost immediately. I feel a rush of adrenaline each time, like I’m touching a live wire that sends a jolt straight through my system.
The man at check-in smiles warmly when I hand him my passport. “Ms. Greene, welcome. My name is Alexander. How may I assist you this evening?”
“Hey, Alex. I don’t have a reservation but we need to charter a flight to L.A. immediately.”
“Of course. Give me one moment to verify which aircraft we have available.”
“Anything will do. We just need to get home.”
“Understood.”
As Alexander frowns pensively at his touchscreen, Tyus puts his lips against my ear. “This is going to cost a small fortune,” he whispers worriedly.
I open my wallet, holding it close to my mouth as a barrier between us and Alexander. “I know. Luckily I have a big one.”
I tap my credit card meaningfully.
His eyes widen. “You got it back?”
“When I agreed to give up the NFL. And you.” I smile at him, my eyes eating him up like dessert. “And after tonight I’ll definitely lose it again, but I don’t care. You’re worth it.”
“What’s the limit on that thing?”
“Why would you ask that?” I laugh.
He smiles. “I’m trying to get a read on what I’m worth to you.”
I lower my wallet, rise up on my toes, and I kiss him soundly. “Everything,” I tell him, kissing him again because I can never get enough. “You’re worth everything to me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
TYUS
February 5th
Cedars-Sinai Medical Center
Los Angeles, CA
They have to shave my head to do the surgery. About an hour before, they send a nurse in to buzz me clean. They come at me with shaving cream and a Bic after that. That’s when it gets real for me. That’s the moment I realize that they’re actually going to do this. A man is going to cut through my skull, put hands on my brain, and pull a chunk of it out. And I’m supposed to be able to walk and talk like my regular self afterwards. It doesn’t seem possible. I know the chunk they’re taking away isn’t really me. It’s a piece of sickness that’s making my brain bleed into my skull. But still. It’s sobering.
“Are you scared?” Mila asks quietly when the nurse is gone.
I run my hand over the smooth skin on my skull. It feels cold from the shaving cream. “A little, yeah,” I admit. I look at her, studying her face. “Are you?”
She smiles weakly. “Terrified.”
“I’m gonna be okay.”
“I know you are,” she answers hurriedly.
But we don’t look at each other when she says it because we both know it’s not true. No one knows anything for sure. We won’t until it’s over and I’m dead or alive.
“What time is it?” I ask.
She looks at her phone. “Twenty minutes to kickoff.”
I smile proudly. I love that that’s how she measures time. I love that she knew that’s what I was really asking for.
“Do you want me to turn on the TV?” she offers.
I shake my head. “No. I won’t be able to watch the whole game. I’d rather not see any of it until after.”
“I won’t watch it either, then.”
“Baby, you can watch the Super Bowl. Once I’m in surgery you’re going to have hours to kill.”
“I’ll wait for you,” she replies stubbornly.
I nod in understanding. “Okay. We’ll watch it together.”
Mila takes a deep breath. She holds it in like she’s keeping a secret, but then she exhales slowly. Her shoulders relax a little. “When is Tia coming?”
“Soon. She said she’d bring Eli by about an hour before I go in.”
“So really soon.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad they came out.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“While you’re recovering this week, I was thinking I’d take them to Disneyland. Has Eli ever been to Disneyland?”
“A few times.”
She shakes her head in frustration. “Right. You’ve lived here for four years. Of course you’ve taken your nephew to Disneyland.”
“He’s never been to Universal, though. He’s older now. He might like that better.”
She smiles gratefully. “I’ll ask if he wants to go.”
“You don’t have to entertain them, Mila.”
“I want them to like me,” she replies bluntly.
I grin. “They’re going to like you.”
“I’m not a nice girl. Your sister will want you to be with a nice girl. Probably a black one too.”
“Probably. But she’ll still like you.”
“Can I get in bed with you?”
I chuckle with surprise. “For real?”
“Is that okay?” She stands like it’s already been decided. �
��I don’t want to get weird with you or anything. This isn’t like the start of a porno. I just haven’t slept next to you in weeks and I miss laying with you.”
I shuffle to the side of the bed, giving her room, even though she hardly needs it. “Get in here.”
Mila smiles as she climbs into bed beside me. I’m not attached to anything yet. No wires or catheters, though that’s coming. For now, it’s just me and Mila and the smell of her skin that makes me dream of the islands.
“When this is over, I want to take you to Hawaii,” I tell her.
She chuckles against my chest. “Oh yeah?”
“I’m sure you own your own damn island, but let me take you, alright? Let me feel like a man taking his girl on vacation somewhere tropical.”
“I’ll go anywhere with you.”
“Even Texarkana?”
“Oh God,” she groans. “What would we do in Texarkana?”
“Visit my family.”
“I thought for a second you were going to tell me that you’re moving back there. I almost had a heart attack.”
“Nah.” I thread my fingers through her hair. “My life is here in California.”
“What are your thoughts on Las Vegas?”
I frown. “Why Vegas?”
“Because that’s where the Kodiaks are going to move.”
“Wait, what?” I push on her shoulders until she’s sitting up and I can see her eyes. She’s serious. “What are you talking about? What’s happening with the Kodiaks?”
Her face is pained. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you or not. I didn’t want to freak you out before the surgery.”
“What’s happening?”
“Daddy is selling the team after the Super Bowl. He’s selling to a group of investors and when they get their hands on the team, they’re moving it to Las Vegas. They said the NFL has too many teams in California and it’s time to spread out.”
“Holy shit.” My heart is in my ass. It’s dropped down painfully and I’m not even really sure why. I’m not on the team anymore. Officially, yeah, I’m on the roster until after the Championship, but then my contract is done. My career is over, about to be tossed in the trash with the tumor growing on my brain, but it still hurts because that’s my team. That’s my family. “You’re sure?”
Mila nods. “I’m sure. Daddy was serious. He’s doing it. He’s selling, they’re buying, and they’re definitely moving the Kodiaks to Las Vegas.”
“Does anyone on the team know?”
“I doubt it. The investors won’t announce their plans until it’s a done deal. It would let the world know Vegas is looking to bring in a team and then it becomes a bidding war. I’m sure there’s more than one franchise out there that would like to move to Nevada.”
“And you want to move with them?”
She shrugs. “Not right away, but maybe someday. They’re my team, Tyus. I’m not letting them go just because Daddy is selling them.”
“You still want to be GM,” I surmise proudly.
“I’m not modeling anymore. I’m done with it. It’s not my life. I want to keep working at the DAK, finish school, and then I hope I can get in with the Kodiaks doing something. Anything to get my foot in the door and start to climb my way up. Paul, the cap manager, he likes me. He’ll put in a good word for me.”
“How much longer do you have until you get your degree?”
“Three more years, if I work hard. And I will.”
“I know you will.” I study her face. Her neck. Her hair that falls so dark and soft around her shoulders. I get lost in the curves of her, the fluid beauty of her body, and I hear myself confess, “Coach Bailey offered me a job.”
She tightens excitedly, but her voice is carefully calm. “Doing what?”
“Assistant Wide Receivers Coach. Not even the head coach for wide receivers, but the assistant coach, so, you know, I—”
“That’s amazing!” she cries. Mila sits up straighter in the bed to look down at me with pride. “You’re going to take it, right?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
I run my hand up and down her bare arm, studying her skin to avoid her eyes. “I don’t know. It’s a step down.”
“Is the pay terrible?”
“It’s not what I’m getting now.”
She rolls her eyes. “Nothing is going to be.”
“It’s alright. I’d be comfortable.”
“So then what is the problem? I don’t see a downside to this. You love football, and if you can’t play it anymore why wouldn’t you want to coach it?”
“Because now I know the team is moving to Las Vegas,” I answer honestly, looking her in the eyes. “I know that you’re staying here to finish school and that’s going to take three years. If I take the job, I’ll be in Vegas by next year.”
“No. Daddy says they won’t be able to move the team right away. They won’t go to Las Vegas for another season.”
“That’s still a year, Mila. Can you do a long distance relationship for a year?”
Her face falls, pulled down by the weight of my skepticism. But it’s not groundless. Mila has needs. She’s made that very clear. She went a year without sex to prove to herself that she could, but it was like detoxing from a heroin addiction. It was hard for her, and since we started seeing each other, she’s started shooting up again. Can she go cold turkey? Or, worse yet, can she handle getting her fix in scattered, small doses? Will it tempt her to take it where she can get it?
I hate that I have to doubt her like that, but her track record is what it is. I can’t pretend history didn’t happen. If we’re going to love each other, we have to look at each other with open eyes and this is what I see – a potential problem.
“I’ll go with you,” she tells me firmly. “Next year, I’ll go with you to Las Vegas.”
“What about school?”
“They have college in Nevada. I’ll transfer.”
“What about your dad? What about your job at the DAK?”
“What about us?” she fires back.
I frown, taking her hand. “Baby, I want you with me. I’m not saying I don’t.”
“Then stop talking me out of it.”
“I’m trying to make you think it through.”
“I have. I’m going.”
“You’ve given it two seconds of thought. That’s not thinking it through.”
“How long do I have to wait?” she pouts.
I grin. “How about until I decide if I even want to take the job and make the move?”
Mila sighs before falling back onto the bed with me. She rests her face over my heart and drapes her arm across my stomach. She tangles her body around me like a vine. Like the wild rose bush in my sister’s backyard that wove itself around the trunk of a tree, reaching for the sun. Hugging that old willow for all it was worth. That tree died last winter. It’s still standing but it’s hollow inside. Empty and gone, but the bush doesn’t care. It keeps hold of the trunk with its vines, guarding it with its thorns like it’s telling us we’ll have to kill her too if we want to take out that tree.
“We’ll figure it out,” I promise her softly. “When this is over, we’ll talk about it. We’ll find a way to stay together.”
“Tell me you forgive me,” she commands suddenly.
“I forgive you.”
“Tell me you’ll be okay.”
I kiss the top of her head. “I’ll be okay.”
She hugs me tighter, burying her face in my chest. I feel the warm wet of her tears seep through my gown. “Tell me you love me,” she whispers.
I put my hand under her chin to lift it. To bring her face level with mine where I can see her eyes and her tears. Her heart and her soul.
“I love you, Mila Greene. No matter what happens, I will always love you.”
EPILOGUE
MILA
April 26th
Charles Windt Stadium
Los Angeles, CA
> “With the thirty-fourth pick of the NFL Draft, the Los Angeles Kodiaks are now on the clock.”
I close my eyes, savoring that sound.
The Los Angeles Kodiaks are now on the clock.
This is the last time those words will ever be spoken.
The ink has dried on the contracts. Daddy sold the team.
It’s a bittersweet night for everyone here at the stadium. The annual Draft party is winding down and with good reason. Back in February when they crushed the Steelers thirty-three to fourteen, the Kodiaks became Super Bowl Champions, which means they are the last team to get a pick in each round of the Draft. We’ve been sitting in the auditorium eating warm cold cuts and drinking flat beer for hours now. It’s late, everyone is tired, but it’s finally our turn.
“Any bets on who we’re taking?” Colt asks the table.
“Sean Bosa,” I answer immediately. “Wide receiver from Mississippi State.”
“Not fair. You don’t get to guess.”
“Why can’t I guess?!”
“Because you have insider information,” Sloane scolds. “You’re tainted.”
“You’re tainted.”
“Clever.”
“And insulting,” Demarcus adds. “We don’t need a wide receiver. We got Ramsey and me.”
I shake my head. “Ramsey is asking to be traded. He might not be here by the time the season starts.”
“Tainted!” Colt and Sloane shout at me together.
“Fine,” I laugh. I slump back in my seat. “Whatever. I’ll stay out of it.”
“Anyway,” Hollis tells the table, “I think we’ll take Travis Gates. Tight end. Texas A&M.”
Trey nods to Kurtis. “We don’t need a tight end. We got all the skill we can handle.”
Kurtis grins. He raises his beer to Trey in thanks.
“Spencer Burse,” Lilly guesses suddenly. “Quarterback. Alabama.”
“Hey!” Trey shouts indignantly.
“Hey nothing. Your contract is up in two years. The team is being sent off to Las Vegas. That kind of shakeup means management is going to change. Keith Wilton is a chump. No way he keeps his job next year. Hell, he won’t even be able to hold onto it through this year.”