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It’s my turn to smile at the memory. I can still remember the thrill that ran through me when my foot connected with the football. The elation I felt when it soared over the goalpost and of being scooped into my teammates’ arms after. It’s one of the best moments of my career, and when I think about walking away from the sport, I know I’d miss those experiences the most.
Maven looks up at me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good. Just reminiscing.”
“They look like they were very good days. I’d reminisce on them, too.”
“Sometimes I forget how lucky I am.” I gesture her down the hall and open a door on our right. “This is the guest room, and there’s a bathroom attached. Feel free to leave some clothes in the dresser if you want. No one else uses this space.”
“You don’t have people that come and stay with you? Family or friends?”
“Most of my friends are local. My sister visits occasionally, but she’s not going to be here anytime soon.”
She nods and glances out the window. “Talk about an incredible view.”
“If you think that’s nice, wait until you see the balcony. It wraps around half the apartment.”
“Of course it does. Is that where you go to contemplate your existence and try to find the meaning of life?”
Her smile is teasing, and I like it. I like that she’s giving me shit, and I like that she’s not afraid to be herself around me.
There have been so many times when a woman changes who she is when she finds out who I am, and everything feels so fake. Forced and off-putting.
Not with Maven, though.
She speaks her mind and says what she’s thinking without holding back.
It’s new and different, and I like it.
“When I can’t sleep, I’ll go out there for some fresh air. I like the quiet,” I explain. “Which is funny, because my job is the furthest thing from quiet. It’s easy to get caught up in the frenzy of it all—the media. Press conferences. National news and internet fame. Social media followers who want to know what I’m doing every second of every day. It’s overwhelming sometimes, and it’s nice to slow down. To appreciate the small stuff. Like how traffic in this city is the fucking worst, but at two in the morning, I could stare at the empty roads for hours.”
“It’s your secret spot,” Maven says. “The place you go when you want to settle and calm your mind. The place where you can be yourself without anyone else watching.”
“Huh. I never thought of it that way.” I rub my jaw and give her a slow nod. “But I think you’re right.”
“It’s important to have a place like that.”
“Yeah? Where’s yours?”
Her hands twist together, and for a second, she’s deep in thought. “It was the soccer field. I haven’t found a replacement yet. Maybe one day I will.”
There’s more to that story, but I’m not going to pry. I know firsthand about keeping personal things personal, and I let her have the moment of quiet contemplation.
“I’d love to show you the balcony,” I find myself saying, and she lifts her chin.
Her smile is soft and slow, and it lights up her whole face. There are wrinkles on her nose. There’s a gleam in her eye, and she looks happy.
I’d like to make her smile like that again.
“I’d love to see it. Lead the way, Lansfield,” she says, and I do.
We head back to the living room. I grab June’s baby monitor from the table next to the couch and open the double glass doors that lead outside. Maven laughs as she steps onto the balcony. She holds her arms out at her sides and twirls around in a small circle.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“I love it. Best view in the city.” Maven walks over to the ledge and leans over. “If I squint, I think I can see my apartment building.”
“It’s better at night.” I walk across the terrace and stand next to her. The breeze picks up her hair and blows it across my face. She wrestles with it, a couple of blonde strands getting caught in her earrings, and she laughs. “Are you trying to suffocate me?”
