Page 58 of Hello Quarterback

Mia rolled to her side, propping her head up on her hand. “So it’s been a long time since I’ve spent the night next to someone. I don’t even know if I snore.”

I chuckled. “I won’t judge.”

She smiled. “I know rest is important, especially with your job, so I really don’t mind getting a different room so you can get your sleep.”

“Oh, come here,” I said, tucking her into me so I was spooning her from behind. I brushed her soft blond hair out of the way and said, “If I can share a room with Hayes sawing logs all night, I can sleep next to you.”

Her eyes crinkled slightly as she smiled. “Okay.”

“Okay.” I reached back, flicking off the lamp, and curled my arm around her soft waist again. Something about lying next to her just felt right.

Until she fidgeted. And then sat up. And then blew her nose. And then lay back down. And then huffed out a sigh.

I stared at her in the dark. “What are you doing?”

“I like to listen to a sleep story,” she said, an embarrassed tinge to her voice.

“Okay...” I laughed. “Are you nervous for me to hear it, bigshot CEO?”

She hit my arm. “I am!”

“I’ve seen you naked!” I laughed. “Sleeping with you should be a cinch.”

She shook her head at me. “Promise you won’t judge?”

I made an X over my chest. “Cross my heart.”

“Okay.” She reached for her phone on the nightstand, and soon, a soothing male voice was talking slowly about lavender fields. It was kind of nice. Comforting.

She curled next to me, and I shifted again so her hair wouldn’t tickle my face.

“Can I tell you something?” I asked her softly.

“Mmm.”

“My mom used to sing ‘Red River Valley’ to us kids every night before we fell asleep. I miss that.”

“I haven’t heard that song before,” she said.

“I could sing it for you,” I offered. My chest felt raw, and I realized I wanted her to hear it. I wanted to share a piece of my mom with someone new. Someone I think my mom would have adored.

“I’d like that,” she said quietly before reaching out to pause her story.

I ran my fingers over her bare arm, mustering the courage to sing. “From this valley they say you are goin’...” I closed my eyes as I poured out the words, hot tears forming along my lashes. As I sang each line, I could feel Mia’s breathing slow, deepen.

And when I hit the last note, a tear dripped down my cheek, just before I heard her soft snore.

I smiled, wiping the moisture from my face. Then I leaned forward and pressed a slow kiss to Mia’s shoulder. “Goodnight, Sunflower,” I whispered.

Then I fell asleep and rested better than I had in a long, long time.

I wokeup early in the morning like I usually did. But this time, Mia lay pressed against me, like neither of us had wanted to be apart throughout the night. And even though I could have spent all day like this, listening to her soft snores, watching her body shift with each breath, today was game day, and I had work to do.

Carefully, I untangled myself from the covers and put in a room service order for breakfast before getting in the shower. While the hot water cascaded over my body, I visualized the day to come. I saw Milo defending me beautifully, throwing sharp, crisp passes to Krew, who would run them to the end zone. I pictured making good calls on the field, easily spotting the openings between players, and ultimately winning the game.

When I was done with my visualization routine, I got out of the shower, threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, and put on my running shoes.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Mia was already dressed in leggings and a tank top, braiding her hair in the mirror. “Hey,” she said with a smile.

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