“You’re with me,” I tell Parker as I return to the kitchen. “No one will mess with you.”

“Is that your old letterman jacket?”

“It is,” I tell her, confirming that yes, the navy felt-like jacket with the white leather sleeves and the number 5 on the front is, in fact, the same thing I used to wear while swooning after her in the halls of where we’re about to go. I turn it so she can see the embroidery I had the tailor add to the back—Rhodes in a light pink cursive stitching above Thacher Football. “But with an upgrade.”

Once again, it’s a forced smile that doesn’t rise to Parker’s eyes. “That’s cute.”

God, I imagined this going in a totally different direction.

I lower the jacket. “Cute is for guys you kiss on the cheek.” My tone is harsh, even if the words are playful.

But Parker doesn’t seem bothered by it. She steps forward, taking the jacket from me.

“It’s a little warm,” she says. “But I’ll bring it. Why don’t you go get ready?”

* * *

Coach Foller once told me on this very campus that I had a big set of balls for a quarterback.

I took the compliment because I get it. Quarterbacks who can really run the ball are a rare breed. The truth is, there’s a difference between bravery and determination, and when I’m running with that ball, I’m scared of the hit I know will come unless I give myself up and slide. But I’m determined to get as many yards as I can before I surrender. And that’s exactly how it’s been with Parker. I’ve never been brave enough to tell her the truth. I was just hoping I’d get as far as I could before lying down in front of her and saying Here I am. And tonight was supposed to get me major yardage in my rush for her love. This was where I was going to show how far back it goes—all the way. Instead, Parker’s coldness has me ready for tomorrow and to pretend that today and whatever comes tonight never happened.

We walk side by side along the path flanked by lush grass behind the schoolhouse where check-in is while Agent Samuels follows. Parker doesn’t ask or order him to sit back and off to the side like she might normally.

I spin around. “You can wait somewhere else.”

Agent Samuels’s eyes drift to Parker.

“I’m her husband,” I say, drawing his attention back to me. “If I can’t protect her from a rogue hamburger, I’m not sure you could either.”

This at least draws a snickering laugh from Parker, which I’m close to falling victim to, but as soon as it’s begun, Parker stifles it.