Page 145 of Playbook
Neither London nor I say anything as we head out of the reception and walk through the park toward an enclosure where bears sleep in caves that are too dark to see in at night. The final song of the night plays.
“You worked things out with your dad, huh?” I ask finally. I haven’t pressed her on the family situation. All things considered, I didn’t feel like I had any right. But she quit her job at the news station and we celebrated the hell out of that.
“We talked. It’s a start. I’m pretty sure he still hates that I don’t have a fallback career, but he did buy a copy of one of my book covers and brought it for me to sign.”
“No way.” For some reason the image makes me laugh. But also, damn, why didn’t I think of that?
“Yep.” Our steps slow and she swings our hands between us. “I think maybe we’ll be okay. I can live with him thinking I’m making the wrong choices, and I can live with him saying I told you so if I fail.”
“You won’t fail.”
“I know. I believe in myself and that’s enough. Maybe that’s the lesson.” She turns her head and smiles at me. “Would you rather be a bear or a lion?”
My lips part on a smile at the question and topic change. “That depends.”
“On what?” She stops walking and turns to face me.
“Are you a bear or a lion?”
“Female lions do all the hunting. I’m not sure I’m cut out for that.”
“So a bear then?”
“They are cute, but I’m not a big fan of fish.” She wrinkles her nose.
“You want to be a bear, I’ll get all the best berries for you. And if you want to be a lion, we’ll shuck social norms and I’ll do the hunting.”
Her grin widens like she thinks I’m kidding. There isn’t a lot I wouldn’t do for her.
“I want to be whatever and wherever you are.”
“Me too.” She wraps her arms around my neck. “Let’s be us. That seems to be working pretty well.”
Better than pretty well. I’m having the time of my life.
EPILOGUE
The club is packed, and I apologize to people as I weave through couples and groups to get to the bar. I scan the familiar space until I spot her.
“Hey, man.” A guy with dark, slicked-back hair, and shoulders broader than mine, steps in front of me. Something tickles in my brain. I can’t place him right away but I know I should. “You’re Brogan Six.”
“Yeah. That’s right. And you’re…” I reach out my hand and then it hits me. “Jack Wyld. Fuck, what are you doing in Arizona?”
“Just visiting,” he says as we shake hands. The man is a beast of a hockey player for the Wildcats in Minnesota. “You had a hell of a rookie season.”
My jaw drops and I want to pinch myself. Jack fucking Wyld knows who I am. What even is this life?
“Thank you. You too.”
“I’m just heading out to meet up with some friends, but it was really nice to meet you.” He smiles at me. “Good luck next year. Maybe take it a little easier on my Vikings though, huh?”
“Yeah, sure. If you take it easier on the Coyotes.”
Laughing, he walks off, and I shake my head to clear it. I just met one of the best hockey players of all time.
It’s almost as exciting as the other person I’m about to meet. I continue to the bar where a pretty brunette is sitting.
“Excuse me?” I say when I’m standing behind her.
