Page 82 of Sidelined By Love

“Look at each other.”

That’s no hardship on my part. Zoe practically glows, her smile flashing in the lights, her eyes sparkling as bright as the silver crystals on her gown.

“Hey,” she says, her words only loud enough for the two of us. “You look good tonight.”

“Incredibly handsome?” I give her a wink.

Her squeeze around my back tells me she remembers too. “Always.”

“You look good too. Then again, you always look gorgeous in Teeners colors.”

Her eyebrows dance as she licks her lips. “You noticed.”

“I always notice you.”

“Zoe, over here! Zoe, what are your thoughts about the awards-season buzz for your role? There’s talk of an Oscar nomination.”

She turns in a fluid motion, nodding toward the reporter extending her recorder. “It’s always an honor to be mentioned in such conversations. But being part of this production—surrounded by so many incredible actors and artists—has been the highlight for me.”

Always a pro. Always diplomatic. So smart.

I love this woman.

“And how was it sharing the experience with your boyfriend?”

Zoe beams, and I cringe.

I hate that word. I have since the beginning. I have since the moment I picked her up in my living room, pressed her against my wall, and knocked that old family photo to the ground.

The photo’s been fixed, of course. Zoe couldn’t stand to see it propped on the floor, so she snuck it out one evening and returned it to me for Christmas last year. New frame, perfectly mounted, without saying a word.

Chicken on a biscuit, I love this woman.

“It was amazing. I love spending time with him, and to have his insights on set—he brought so much knowledge and a real joy for the game.”

I squeeze her tight because she’s the one with the joy, and I’ll follow her anywhere to bask in it.

“How about you, Red? Did you catch the acting bug? Any plans to leave the NFL for Hollywood?”

“I’m going to leave acting to the pros. I’ve got other things to worry about.”

Another reporter calls out, “Good luck in the playoffs.”

I grin at him. We’ve already clinched our division, even though we still have a few more games in the regular season. We’ve had a good run—and I hate to admit it’s mostly because I’ve kept my promise to Zoe. I don’t think about her while I’m on the field. I don’t have to. Because the minute the game clock winds down, I know she’s there for me. Win or lose, she wraps me up in her arms and the rest of the world falls away.

Not that she’s made it to every game in the last year. Shooting took a couple months in Texas, but most of that was during the off-season. And I racked up more than a few frequent flyer points traveling back and forth between optional team practices in the spring.

It would have been worth it, even without the points.

“Any truth to the rumors of wedding bells?”

I nearly swallow my tongue, praying the outline of the velvet box in my jacket pocket isn’t visible. Thank goodness for Zoe’s publicist, who waves off the question and scoots us down the carpet before I have to admit that I’ve been planning this night for months.

I had thought about Christmas. Or maybe New Year’s Eve.

But we’ll be at home for those. And my sister and Kenna are staying with me while Eden transitions out of the Navy.

And a proposal calls for a bit of privacy. What better location than a movie premiere surrounded by reporters?

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