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“Mm-hm,” he says, closing his eyes.
“That’s trickier now that we’re naked. And married.”
He pulls me in tightly against his chest. “No—it’s better now. Please say yes. I’d love to be your friend, Nora.”
As if there were a chance I’d ever want to say no.
I draw a heart on his ribs. “Yes, you can be my friend, Derek Pender. But this breaks rule number three.”
For the last few days, Derek and I haven’t left the room once. Just kidding. Truthfully, we’ve been jam-packed busy at the resort. We finally took that coral reef snorkeling tour. Had an afternoon shopping adventure in the local open-air market. A day trip to visit and swim in the most beautiful cenotes that seriously were too pretty to be real. And a spa day where we got couples massages and had an unfortunate incident with the sheet that I’d like to put out of my mind for eternity.
All of it feels like I’m living in a dream because I’m getting to experience it with Derek. We’ve spent these days completely wrapped up in each other—relearning who the other is now. I don’t think I’ve laughed as much as I have over the last week in my entire life. Not only that, but we’ve sat under the stars at night on the beach filling each other in on all the life events we’ve missed out on over the years. Like how Derek’s teeth are so perfect because they’re actually veneers he paid thousands of dollars for and hasn’t regretted once. And how he and his friends helped get Nathan and Bree together through a romantic cheat sheet. And how I’m completely obsessed withTheGreat British Bake Offand secretly dream of going on the show one day even though I’m American and have zero baking abilities.
In quieter moments, he’s also opened up to me more about what living with dyslexia has been like. How hard it was to be treated like he wasn’t trying when endlesslytryingwas all he was ever doing. I want to fix his hurt—take away the wounds, but I can’t, so I whisper how proud of him I am and cuddle him into oblivion, shifting through his feelings together as best we can.
But our nights…our nights have nothing to do with the article and are completely our own. We spend them in each other’s arms. It goes something like this: We stumble in dead tired from a day of exploring and smiling for a photo shoot, and shower and then get hit with a second wind that we absolutely burn off in the most delicious ways.
Which is why now, it’s late and we’re both sweaty and exhausted as I fall into Derek’s arms for the most epic snuggle of my life. He trails his fingers softly down my bare spine and my body shivers in response.
“Are you worried about going back? To the office?” Derek asks me, his voice so lazy I can tell he’s as sleepy as I am. I know why he’s asking, though. Marty emailed me a link today of an online tabloid with a picture of when Derek and I first kissed on the beach. He was careful with his wording in the message—but the slight was unmistakable:Thought you might like to be aware of the sort of image your honeymoon is giving off, so you don’t jeopardize your professionalism. Would hate for other male athletes to get the wrong impression of you.
I nuzzle in closer. “A little.” I pause. “Okay, a lot.”
Derek casually offered to end the man’s life for me (he was kidding…I think) but I declined. I did, however, forward the email to our HR department. Unfortunately, they said there was nothing in the email that was strictly offensive or inappropriate (due to hisstrategic wording and that it was a link to a photo rather than an actual screenshot). It probably doesn’t help that Marty plays golf with those same guys from HR either.
I curl up closer to Derek. “Or…I guess it’s not really that I’m worried, as much as I am maybe sort-of, kind-of dreading it.”
Derek’s fingers continue to track over my skin like they’re blazing a future trail. “You know, if you wanted to quit and find somewhere with a less toxic environment, I’d follow you wherever you go. I mean, not sure how much that means coming from an athlete who might be out of the job in a few months. But you have options.”
“Quit being a tuna sandwich! Of course it means a lot. In the next few months, rockets are going to want to be you when they grow up from how high you’re going to soar.” He laughs a quiet rumbly laugh. I close my eyes and savor the feel of it vibrating through me. “Truthfully, though, I’m starting to doubt that anywhere less toxic exists. I’m afraid it’s just the world of sports and if I want to live in it, I’ll have to get thicker skin.”
He hums and pulls me tightly against him. “That doesn’t sound very Nora Mackenzie–like to me.”
I angle my chin up, resting it on his chest to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“The Nora I know doesn’t adapt to something she doesn’t like. She changes it.” His hand strokes over my hair.
I breathe out. “That Nora is tired. She’s ready for someone else to take on the world.”
Derek wraps his arms around me and flips up over so he’s pinning me in. He kisses my jaw and nuzzles his face against the crook of my neck. “Keep resting with me, then, and when we get back, you’ll figure out how to bring those assholes to their knees.” He kisses my neck and then pulls back to look in my eyes. “And if you need any help, just say the word and I’ll be there.”
I smile and he dips his head to capture it against his.
Unfortunately, no sooner than his mouth claims mine does his phone begin ringing loudly on the bedside table. We both startle and Derek’s hand dashes out to fumble for it. “Sorry, I thought it was on silent,” he rasps as he retrieves it and holds it up to his face.
That’s when I really think it through. It’s the middle of the night and someone is calling Derek. There’s no way this can be a good thing. I sit up as I watch Derek’s brows pinch together.
“It’s Price,” he says, adjusting to rest his back against the headboard, and flips on the light. He answers with a quick “What’s wrong?”
Derek listens silently, staring out at the room as I stare at him. I search his face for any hints to what his friend is telling him, but his expressions are made of stone. Derek’s eyes shift to me for a fraction of a second and then he looks away, sending his hand through his messy bedhead. “Shit.Is she going to be okay? What about the baby?”
Now, I’m fully on my knees, clutching the sheet helplessly to my chest as I stare at Derek.
He hums a few times while listening before throwing the covers off his legs and swiftly standing up from the bed. “Yeah, man. Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow regardless.”
Derek goes to his suitcase and searches through it. Even though I don’t know what’s going on, I run to the bathroom while throwing on one of Derek’s T-shirts and then swipe everything off the counter into my toiletry bag. Even though it makes me cringe to see everything all mixed together haphazardly, I can feel it in my bones that there’s no time for organizing. We can separate our things out later.
“Like hell,” Derek replies aggressively to something Price says. “I’m coming back no matter what, so go be with your wife instead of wasting your time arguing with me.” Price says something else to Derek that has him responding quietly, “I will.”
