interviews from your favorite players,” they inform the crowd.
“Oh, he hates this part,” I tell our parents. Cooper got us amazing seats, right on the fifty-yard line. We had our choice of one of the private booths, but all five of us said we wanted to be in the crowd in the action.
“Excuse me.” I turn to look over my shoulder. “I saw your jersey,” a woman says. “My son is a huge fan of Cooper’s. Would it be possible to get your autograph?” the woman asks sweetly.
“Uh, sure.” I smile. Glancing over at our parents, I shrug and turn to face them. She hands me a Defenders T-shirt.
“Anywhere is fine,” she says, handing me a black Sharpie. Turning the shirt over in my hand, I see Cooper’s name scrawled across the number. “He signed it before the game,” the mom explains.
With shaking hands, I poise the Sharpie to sign my name when an idea hits. Instead of my full name, I sign Future Mrs. Reeves, and Cooper’s number underneath. I hand the shirt to the little boy. “Here you go, buddy.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Reeves,” he says, smiling wide.
My heart flutters in my chest. I’m going to be Mrs. Reeves. My grin is infectious as I look over at our parents, who are also smiling as they watch me. I can feel my face heat, but I own in. I’m happy. My heart is happy. Cooper and I have fought a long hard fight to be where we are, and I’m going to enjoy every damn minute of it.
“Cooper, great game out there today.” A female reporter stops him.
His smiling, sweaty face appears on the screen. “Thanks.”
“Two touchdowns, on a three-touchdown winning game, how does it feel?”
“It feels good to bring home the first win of the regular season. My teammates and I have worked hard for this, and we all showed up to play.”
“Rumor has it you got engaged in the off-season,” she comments.
Again, I can feel my face heat. It feels as though the eyes of all those around me are focused on me and not Cooper. I don’t dare look. Instead, I keep a smile plastered on my face, red cheeks and all, and keep my attention on the screen where my man is surely about to embarrass me even more.
Cooper’s smile lights up the entire stadium. “The rumor is true. I’m marrying my best friend.”
“Does this friend have a name?” the reporter asks.
“Future Mrs. Reeves.” He grins cheekily.
The reporter smiles at him, and then something in her features changes. I can’t describe it, and I don’t have time to because she opens her mouth, and the words she speaks has bile rising up in my throat. “Rumor also has it that she left her fiancé at the altar for you. How well do you know the future Mrs. Reeves?” she asks smugly.
The smile drops from his face, and I know he’s pissed. I can see it in the tic of his jaw and the look in his eyes. “Let’s get something straight right now. Reese is my best friend. She has been since I was eight years old. Yes, she was engaged before, and it never happened. That’s all that you need to know. I love this team, the Defenders is my home, but I promise you that I will not stand for you or anyone portraying her in a bad light. I suggest you take this as your one and only warning.” He then looks up at the camera. “To anyone else out there who thinks they can run me and my fiancée through the mud to sell papers, I advise you to think again. I know you’re aware of my new contract with the Defenders, and I’m prepared to spend it all to defend her honor.” He gives the camera a hard look, then moves to bestow the same look on the reporter before he runs to the sidelines just below where we are sitting and jumps the wall.
I stand still, frozen, waiting to see what happens next. All attention is suddenly on him as he stands before me. His hand lifts to my face, and he smiles down at me. It’s the smile I get from him every day. The one that says he loves me, and he always will. “Hey, beautiful,” he says softly.
“Coop, I’m so sorry, I—” I start, and he cuts me off with his index finger to my lips.
“No, baby. I’m sorry. My job brought this on you, and I