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“What are you doing with your day off?”
“It’s more like an afternoon off. I might sit by the pool,” I say.
“Why don’t you go to Disneyland? Seems like a fun thing to do.”
“Some of the other coaches are. I would, but I promised Maven I’d bring her out here next year and do the park with her.”
“Can you stop doing things that solidify you as the cool adult?” Lacey asks, and I hear her shit-eating grin through the phone. “You’re making me look bad. All I can offer her are lollipops and stickers from the office.”
“Some would say those are the finer things in life.” I grab my suitcase from the pile of bags and slip the bus driver a fifty-dollar bill. “How’s D.C.?”
“Not bad. Maggie and I are going out for a wine night tonight,” she says, and the excitement in her voice makes me smile. If there’s one thing I know about Lacey, it’s that she loves to spend time with her friends.
“Sounds fun. Is anyone harassing you?”
“Nope. The most activity there’s been around here is a mom of a patient asking if I could get you to sign a hat for her husband for Christmas. No one is sending me creepy fan mail or following me down the sidewalk. Guess I’m not that interesting.”
“You’re plenty interesting, and I can definitely sign a hat for her. No problem.” I pull open the heavy glass door to the hotel lobby and nod at a family behind me to go ahead. The dad does a double take as he passes, and I hold back a laugh. “Maybe I’ll sign a batch of them so you can keep them in your office.”
“Oh, really? Wow. That would be awesome. Thank you.” She pauses and clears her throat. “I better get going. I have a couple more appointments today, and I haven’t had lunch yet.”
I check my watch and do the time zone math in my head. My smile slips into a frown. “Lunch? It’s almost three in the afternoon.”
“I know. There was a mix-up on the calendar, and I got double booked. We worked it out, but I’ve been busy all morning. I might power through until dinner. The place where we’re going has a delicious burger,” she says.
My fingers curl around the door handle, and my spine stiffens. It might be close to seventy degrees outside, but a cool feeling of irritation works its way up my back. “Please eat something before you go out drinking, Lacey.”
“I’m fine,” she says, and if she were in front of me right now, she’d definitely be waving me off. “I’ll text you later.”
“Send me your location when you leave tonight?” I blurt out, then I slap my forehead with the heel of my palm. “Just in case.”
“Worried about me, Holmes?” she teases, and I swallow down the lump in my throat.
“I’m your boyfriend, Lacey,” I say lowly.
“Fake boyfriend,” she whispers so softly, I have to press my phone against my ear to hear her.
“Doesn’t matter. Fake. Real. I don’t give a shit. I take care of what’s mine, and right now, you are mine.”
I’m met with silence. Neither of us say anything else, and I wonder if I went too far. It’s the truth, though; I do worry about her. People are out of their minds these days, and being associated with a professional athlete comes with certain risks. I’m going to do my damnedest to protect her from whatever lunacy comes from being with me.
She is mine—not in the literal sense. I don’t own her. She can do what she wants, and she knows that. That woman is as independent and fierce as they come.
But as long as she’s going to be attached to me, I’m going to look out for her well-being. I’m going to make sure she’s fed and she’s safe and she’s happy. I’m going to buy her what she wants and spoil the shit out of her.
When this ends in a month, I’ll still look after her, just from further away.
She’s not getting rid of me that easily. I’m never letting Lacey Daniels out of my sight again.
“Okay,” she finally says. “Okay, I’ll send you my location.”
“Good. Thank you. I hope you have fun with Maggie.”
“Thanks, Shawn Yawn. Have fun in Cali. Catch some waves, bro,” she says, and I laugh. We’re right back to our normal selves.
“See ya, Lace Face.”
I hang up and head into the lobby. The team crowds the space, grabbing their room keys and bottles of water. Bystanders pull out their phones and snap pictures. A couple whisper and point. Another flicks off the guys, and Dallas answers him with an enthusiastic wave and an offer to sign the man’s shirt.
