Rookie in Love [SYTYCW 2013]

Chapter One of the Sequel!

                                Rookie Playing for Keeps

Hello everyone!  Thank you so much for loving Rookie in Love. It's been amazing to have it published with Harlequin!  I am sharing with you the first unedited chapter of the sequel, Rookie Playing for Keeps.  THIS STORY WILL NOT BE POSTED ON WATTPAD. I know many of you prefer to read all of your stories for free, so I will be leaving Rookie in Love up for free for a while longer. Please feel free to leave Jackson and Maddy's story with their happy ending at the end of Rookie in Love and not start to read the first chapter preview. If you would like to be kept up to date of the sequel news, be sure to follow me on twitter @sarahwhitewrite or facebook at https://www.facebook.com/SarahWhiteWrite. Thanks and enjoy!

Chapter 1

Present

            The sound of the beeping monitor continues to make it hard to get any sleep. It seems to bounce off the cold, shiny tile floor and echo around us as we sit and wait. I’m exhausted and as I sit here, my mind drifts back and forth, constantly reminding me of the events that lead us to the lemon scented hospital room that we’re currently in. I close my eyes and pray again that everything will be alright as I clench the stiff white blankets in my knuckles.

            The loud speaker in the hallway crackles and then a cheery female voice can be heard paging a doctor to a certain floor or operating room. I suck in a deep breath and slowly exhale, my fears that we might not pull through this causing my stomach to knot beneath my ribs. It’s been hours of nothing but a gentle beep and a few check-ins from the nurse on duty. Money can buy a lot of things, but the assurance of life is not one of them.

            I should have known that choosing Jackson would not be the only difficult thing I would have to survive. I’d fallen hard and fast for my amazing quarterback, which left little time for my family to get used to the idea. At the time I would have sworn that defying them and going after what my heart wanted would be the hardest thing I would ever have to face, but with our experience this last year, and the quiet squeak of the nurses’ shoes on the hallway outside, I know that falling for him was just the beginning of wearing my heart on my sleeve.

            I watch his eyes flutter with sleep, the scruff of his whiskers lining his strong jaw. My lip trembles a little on it’s own accord and I fight back the lump in my throat.  I’m afraid. Not the kind of fear that softly whispers to you, but the kind that materializes in front of you, reaching into your chest and gripping your heart. This is life or death and maybe we are just too tired to fight it anymore. My eyes drift down to Jackson’s chest and I watch as it expands with air and then slowly deflates, his breathing rhythmic and mesmerizing.

            Over the last year I’ve watched him sleeping like this countless times, by own breath syncing with his. Tonight I can’t seem to get centered enough to let our breaths dance together. The vice of anxiety has clamped down hard on my lungs and as I blow out another breath, it stutters with the sudden onset of tears. I want to be strong; I want to do this for him—for us, but it feels as if the darkness of the world is closing in on me and at some point I might have to surrender to the peace of letting us go.

            My thumb runs across the dent where my wedding ring sat, a beautiful reminder of the intensity with which we love each other. Yet, in this moment of need it is blatantly absent. He had picked it out for me during our whirlwind romance, his heart always sure that mine was his missing piece. I’d faltered, letting my own fears and the void my mother had left when she passed dictate to me who I should love, and who I should let go.

            If I’m honest, in the quiet moments when I’m alone with my thoughts, it’s always been him.  From that first night in the darkness outside my building my heart has pleaded for his, engaging in a battle with my own stubbornness and naiveté. I know that now, but at the time, it was hard to see what I needed when so many around me were steering me determinedly in another direction. When your own confidence is wavering, it is easy for those around you to give compelling arguments that will steer you off course.

            My brothers had tried hard to push me down a path they thought would ultimately lead to my happiness, but now we all can see how misguided that was. Only I could see what my heart needed, but luckily for me I have a strong heart. I’m going to need it to get through this.

            “Blood pressure is a little high. If it keeps moving in this direction I’m going to need to call the doctor.” The older nurse says as she jots down a few things on a small pad of paper. I close my eyes and imagine that our stay has already caused a shortage of little note sheets, each hour bringing the nurse back in here to jot something else down.

            “Ok,” I say, but it comes out more of a whisper. The nurse lays her hand on top of mine and gives my hand a light squeeze. She stops at the little sink inside the room and washes her hand before leaving the room and shutting the lights off again. Jackson stirs and adjusts his large body, a look of agony stretching across his face. I’m not sure I’ve ever loved anyone as much as I love him in this moment. 

            I wipe another tear from my cheek as he falls back to sleep beside me.  He is my entire world and I know that you should never allow that to happen, but how could I not? I fought for him and he fought for me.  That says something about the love we have and if it means that my heart depends on his happiness for my own then so be it.

            The clock on the sterile white wall reads 1:35.  We’ve been here for over twenty-four hours now. Maybe the first few hours had offered us hope and reassurance that the danger was finally at bay, but as the hours tick on, the probability that something is wrong has grown so loud in this silence it is almost deafening.  It’s too late—or actually too early in the morning now to reach out to our family for company, as I know they are all sleeping in the waiting room, anxious to be here and hear word from the doctor.

            Our families have come such a long way over the last year. Knowing that they are sharing the same small room warms my heart. I thought that they would take a while to move past their individual hopes for us and finally see us together as a good thing, but they surprised us both when they accepted us with open arms. Jackson slipped right into the fold of my family, golfing with my father and calling him almost daily with business information. I also gained something with our marriage, a mother I had longed for after years of trying to find my way without that motherly guidance.

            I feel myself drifting off to sleep, the numbers of the stark hospital clock growing blurry with my closing eyes. I try to fight back, telling myself that every time I fall asleep I risk wasting any of the time I might have left with the soul I’ve grown to love more than life itself. In the end, I’m no match for the days of sleep deprivation and I rest my head against the crinkled white sheets and let my brain trick me with dreams of a time when I held the entire world in my hands as the methodical beeping of the monitor guides me back.

.......I can't wait to share the story of their first year together with you!  <3 Sarah