Most Valuable Playboy
I laugh. “She’ll love you.”
And she does. Because Violet is pretty freaking fantastic. She brings a set of antique teacups that she found in a store in Noe Valley, as well as a bottle of wine. No surprise—both Mike Greenhaven and his wife, Emily, think Violet is the bomb. At dinner, Emily pours the wine and raises her glass. “To next year.”
“To next year,” we say in unison.
It’s both a toast and a fervent wish.
Having it all is a pretty tough feat to pull off, and I remind myself that in the scheme of things, I’ve already come out grossly ahead this year. New contract, fat payday, amazing team, strong playoff performance, and the best part of all—someone who loves me and would still love me even if I didn’t have any of those things.
Maybe next year I can add a ring to the mix.
For now, I have everything I need in the woman I come home to at night and wake up to in the morning.
Another Epilogue
A few months later
* * *
“Go, go, go!” Violet thrusts her arm in the air when Smashalie scores a point.
Turns out the little girl was serious about roller derby. She took it up after her last appointment, and joined a junior league that Violet and I happen to fully sponsor. My signing bonus was pretty damn sizable, and I decided to donate it to charities and youth programs in the Bay Area. The children’s hospital is using it for services and research, and Ford is helping me funnel money to worthy programs for kids. That includes sports for girls, but also some sports programs for kids who might need a little extra help, whether after battling cancer or having corrective surgery. I want to give them every chance to reach their fullest potential.
So here we are at the roller rink, watching a bout as Smashalie and her teammates cruise around the oval.
“What would your roller derby name be?” I ask Violet.
She screws up the corner of her lips, looks to the ceiling then at me. “I’d be the Purple Snipper. Don’t you think?” She pretends to cut with scissors.
I grab my crotch. “Ouch.”
“Lavender Cutter?”
I seesaw my palm. “Mildly better.”
She snaps her fingers. “The Lilac Shredder!”
“You’re brilliant,” I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“What about you? Would you be Best Butt in the NFL? Hard Rock Cheeks?” She squeezes my ass.
“Steel Buns.”
She shakes her head. “Nope. I’m keeping the butt nicknames for myself. You’re the Gunslinger.” She runs a hand down my right arm. “Yes, the Gunslinger made all this happen.”
And, honestly, that’s one of the things I’m most proud of. That I’ve been able to give back. And I’ve done it with Violet. That’s always been one of our shared passions, finding worthy causes that help kids. That’s why I chose this spot instead of the beach, a mountain hike, a picnic, or a basketball arena. That’s why there is no Jumbotron, no cameras, no flash mob. I researched ideas. I googled clever strategies. I approached this moment like I was prepping for a game, studying all the options, deciding which plays to use.
In the end, though, I want today to feel authentic to who we are as a couple.
I turn to the woman I adore. “Hey, Violet, I wanted to ask you something.”
She tilts her head, waiting, her lips quirking up in a soft smile.
I move quickly. Always have. I drop to one knee and flip open the box I’ve had in my pocket. Her eyes widen. “You’re my best friend, my lover, and my favorite person in the universe. You are more precious to me than anything else. And I know our love will outlast everything. Will you marry me?”
She clasps her hand to her mouth as she whispers the loveliest word I’ve ever heard—yes.
Tears stream down her cheeks as she kneels with me, still nodding, now sobbing, and holding out her hand. I slide the ring on her finger, and it’s perfect. Honestly, it’s one of the biggest rings ever made. You can’t be the quarterback’s wife and walk around with a tiny diamond.
“I love you, Cooper. So much you have no idea.”
“Oh, I do have an idea. A very good idea. I think it’s pretty damn close to how much I love you.”
She brushes a kiss on my lips. “Some days I still can’t believe it’s real.”
“And I’ll spend a lifetime showing you how real my love is.”
She threads her hands through my hair, and we kiss, kneeling on the floor of the roller rink.
When she breaks the kiss, she lifts her hand and gazes at her ring. The way I see it, even if I don’t have a ring, there’s no reason she shouldn’t.
Besides, there’s always next year.
* * *
THE END