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“You?”
“No.”
He grins.
“Good.”
“How the fuck is that good?”
“Means it matters.”
I look toward the stands.
He's right.
Goddammit.
I hate when Dane is right.
The stadium announcer's voice booms through the speakers.
The crowd erupts.
And the Carolina Rovers take the field.
The energy hits like a physical force.
Thousands of people on their feet.
Our colors everywhere.
The men spread out. I shrug off my jacket and hand it to Dane.
He looks at me.
“The ring is in my pants pocket.”
“I wasn't going to ask.”
“You were looking.”
He snorts. I walk onto the grass. The roar gets louder. Then I hear Layla.
“What’s going on?”
I don't have to look to know she's staring.
I do anyway.
She's standing now. All the wives are.
Carolina's hands are suspiciously close to Layla's shoulders, probably because she's been given strict instructions not to let my Firecracker wander off.
Layla looks from the players to me.
Her mouth drops open.
Perfect.
