Page 73 of Endurance
“Is it stupid?” I ask, perched on the edge of my sofa and watching Tanner’s reaction to my gift. “It’s stupid. We don’t have to wear them. I thought they’d be funny for the media pictures and that they might help take your mind off the fact that you’re not wearing your kit. Maybe have a laugh. But don’t worry, we don’t have to wear these. They were just a gag.”
I snatch the T-shirt gift out of Tanner’s hands, along with the gift bag the set came in. I stand to go upstairs, but before I get even two steps away, I’m yanked backwards onto his lap.
“Why are you taking away my present?” he murmurs in my ear.
“Because it was just a joke.” I lie, heat rising in my cheeks.
“There’s one for you, too, right?” he asks, nibbling my ear and burrowing his furry chin into my neck.
“Yes,” I reply weakly.
“Let’s fucking do it. I love them.” He nips my ear playfully, and I giggle with delight that he fucking gets me.
Moments later, we’re standing in front of my bathroom mirror, staring at each other in our matching shamrock green T-shirts—the official colour for Bethnal.
“We look ridiculous,” I croak.
“We look amazing!” he exclaims.
I turn my eyes to him, examining his whole body with purpose. His jeans are artfully faded and hugging his gloriously thick thighs. His blonde man bun and lush beard are properly groomed. And his sculpted pecs are showcased perfectly below the thin fabric with the text “BIG SPOON” scrawled across the top.
“You really want to waltz into Tower Park wearing a shirt that says big spoon on it?” I ask, propping a hand on my hip.
The merriment on his face is infectious.
“Only if you wear your little spoon shirt. Otherwise, I’d look ridiculous!” he scoffs with a serious tone that has me nearly crying with laughter.
He glances at his watch. “Shit, we have to go. Come on, Little Spoon.”
We arrive at Tower Park and Tanner gets stopped nearly twenty times outside the stadium to talk to fans and various people he knows. This is his home turf and he doesn’t have the protection of the players’ entrance today. He’s like a king amongst his people, charming them left and right, signing T-shirts and snapping selfies. I even get asked to pop into a few shots.
The best part of the whole scene is thateverybodyis laughing at our shirts. Even the security guys. Tanner’s smile is genuine the entire time as he laughs along with everybody, pointing to the “BIG SPOON” text on his chest. I can’t help but feel good about how well my little gag gift is going over. It’s the perfect distraction for him, and he’s crazy enough to have gone for it.
When we finally get past the ticket counter, Tanner is on a mission, and it’s not to our seats located in the first row on the sideline right behind the team. He’s moving through the concrete halls of Tower Park as if he knows exactly where he’s headed. It isn’t until I see a familiar face that realisation dawns on me.
“Sedgwick!” I exclaim, noting his official Tower Park staff clothing and the large roller bin of rubbish he’s emptying into a dumpster.
“Dr. Ryan, what a treat.” He takes off his gloves and offers me his hand, which I gladly shake.
“How are you?” I ask, amazed that he’s standing here before me.
“I’m doing very well thanks to him.” He smiles proudly up at Tanner. “This job suits me perfectly. No stuffy uniforms. Fresh air to breathe. I can’t complain a bit.”
My eyes are wide and watery as they swerve to Tanner, asking the silent question, “Did you do this?”
He has that knowing half-smile on his face. The one that swirls deep in my belly and makes it hard for me to think.
I shake my head and look back at Sedgwick. “I’m so happy for you.”
He nods enthusiastically. “Who would have thought the funny circumstances of that night would end up helping more than just me?”
“More than you?” I ask, frowning at Tanner for clarification.
“Well, for the charity we’re working on, of course,” Sedgwick answers, but his face falls as his eyes meet Tanner’s. “Was I not supposed to say?”
“I was going to tell you about it,” Tanner replies smoothly, a quiet confidence in his tone that comforts me. “It’s all just come about the last couple of days. Sedgwick and I only came up with a name for it yesterday.”
“What kind of charity?”
