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The wine baris loud for a Thursday night. Isabella and I are tucked away in a corner, yet I can’t hear myself think over the pulsing music.
“Am I getting old, or does this feel more like a club and less like a place to do merlot flights?” I ask.
“This is my fault. We should’ve gone somewhere away from campus. There are too many attractive college kids here with fake IDs, and it’s making me think I need to start an under-eye skin care routine,” she says, and we both laugh.
“We were kids too, once upon a time. Two years ago, we would’ve fit right in.”
“And now you’re taking photos for the best football team in the NFL and I’m coaching high school soccer. We’re career women chasing our dreams and climbing into bed before 11 p.m.”
“How times have changed. A toast to being badasses. And doing things even when they’re scary.”
We clink our glasses together and take a sip in tandem. I lean back in my chair and look around. The atmosphere is something I used to enjoy, but now it makes me miss the peacefulness of Dallas’s apartment.
“How’s it going with the hot dad?” Isabella asks over the rim of her glass. “Please tell me you two have fucked.”
“There’s been absolutely zero fucking.”
“What?” She frowns and tilts her head to the side. “He’s single. You’re single. He’s a millionaire who lives eight steps away from you, and you’re not taking advantage of it? What am I missing here?”
“Technically I’m not allowed to take advantage of it. The NFL is strict about players fraternizing with members of their organization, and I’m pretty sure sliding into bed with the star kicker and fucking him goes against almost all of the rules the league has in place.”
“Fuck the league,” she exclaims, and she hits the table. Our plates rattle, and I laugh at her enthusiasm. “It’s not fair you can’t climb him like a tree.”
“It’s devastating, really. The man is like a Greek god,” I sigh. I’ve thought about what it would be like to drop to my knees in front of him more times than I can count. “But I know he’s being good because he cares about me and my job, and I’m respecting his boundaries.”
“You at least flirt with him, right? I saw the way he stared at you when I helped you move in—he couldn’t take his eyes off your ass. It can’t be all work andnoplay.”
“There’s flirting.” I hide my smile behind a sip of wine. “It’s a game. We know nothing can come of it, but we like to push each other.”
“And who’s winning?”
Him.
By a landslide.
I can still feel the kiss he pressed to my ribs and the warmth of his breath over the lace of my bra. I hate that I’ll never know what his mouth feels like on the rest of my body.
“We’re pretty evenly matched,” I tell her, and swirl my wine around. “I just wish he wasn’t so nice.”
Isabella puts her elbow on the table and rests her chin in her hand. “Is being nice a bad thing?”
“It’s a terrible thing, because now I like him. A lot. If he were some asshole, I could think about fucking him once then leaving. But that’s not the case with Dallas. He’s literally the epitome of the perfect man. He’s kind. He remembers things and goes out of his way to make me smile. The more I’m around him, the more I can see myself falling for him, and I don’t know how to stop.”
“Shitty rules aside, if you were allowed to go after him, would you?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “Or, I would try. He doesn’t date, and maybe I’m naïve in believing I can be the one to change that, but I think I could. We’ve had these moments together. They’re not big or grand or anything other people would swoon over, but they’re special. He wears my necklace under his jersey, Isa. And the other day, I went to the soccer field for the first time since my injury, and he asked what I needed. How he could help. Then he kicked a ball around with me for an hour.”
“Whoa,” she breathes out, mesmerized. “You always said you wouldn’t step foot back on a field.”
“I know, but I had this urge to try again. When I got there, I couldn’t do it. I was seconds away from giving up when Dallasshowed up and…” I shrug. “With him by my side, I felt like I could.”
“Why am I getting emotional over this?” She wipes her eyes and laughs. “I really hate that you two can’t be together.”
“I do, too. I also kind of hate that I love my job. If this career wasn’t taking off or I had a toxic work environment, I’d quit. But I don’t want to. This role has become a part of me, and I won’t give that up for a guy.”
“It’s too bad he couldn’t give up his job.”
I snort. “Yeah, right. Who the hell would walk away from a career that pays six million dollars a year?”
