Unease whirled wildly in my belly, a glacier-sized chunk of anguish lodged in my throat. “The position is based in London, England.”
32
Rookie Minicamp.
A three-day mixture of meet and greets, studying the team playbook, then putting plays into action on the field. Sadly some players—signed contract or not—don’t make it past minicamp, and I wanted to be sure my name didn’t end up on the list of those asked to pack up and call it ‘never happening’.
“Sage and I bought a house in Jersey,” AJ breathed out, setting the weights back onto the bar. “I’ll pick up the keys before we head back to Los Angeles.”
We were working out, taking turns spotting each other at the bench press.
“I thought you planned to buy something in New York like Macy and I did?” I said, remembering our conversation a few weeks back clearly. I mean he received a pretty decent signing bonus and contract, as well.
AJ lifted the weights, brought it to his chest, and breathed out. “Well, with the baby on the way, we wanted to be sure I’m only a few miles away, instead of several miles and traffic jams away from home. Besides”—he pushed the weights off his chest and slammed them back onto the bar—“we found a pretty dope three-acre home with a pool that Sage just about died over.”
I thought about moving to New Jersey, as well, since the Jets home stadium was actually in Jersey instead of New York, contrary to what some may think.
But I knew how much Macy loved New York, and I would have done anything necessary to keep her happy, see that all of her dreams come true, too.
“Well, we’ll still be in the same time zone, so don’t be surprised when Macy and I drive over to your house on weekends to pay a visit to you two and the kiddo whenever it finally arrives.”
“October,” he said, sitting up, wiping beads of sweat off his face and neck. “The baby is due in October.”
“That’s the month we plan to get married—Macy’s birthday, October thirteenth.”
AJ told me that the baby was due October fifth, assuring me they’d make it to our wedding.
“You better make it to the wedding.” I chuckled. “Considering you’re the best man.”
It was still hard to believe he was going to be a dad, and that he and Sage were going to get married. At the same time, I never imagined I’d be marrying Macy, never imagined moving to New York, never imagined playing for the Jets.
33
“Girl, that dress makes you look sick.” Sage lounged on the leather sofa between Mom and Chloe, sparkling apple juice in one hand, cucumber and smoked-salmon tea sandwich in the other. “And by sick, I meanhot.”
Chloe glared at her, then scoffed, tossing her tea sandwich back onto her plate, clearly more annoyed than she needed to be. “Then just tell her the dress makes her lookhot. Sick actually means sick again. Sick-Hot is so five years ago.”
Sage rolled her eyes. “Oh, you mean like your bangs?”
“No,” Chloe seethed. “More like that prune-colored lipstick you wear every day like it’s your job.”
“Ugh!” I stomped my foot. “You two have been fighting nonstop yesterday and today. This is supposed to bemyday to shop for a wedding dress, not supervise a pair of teenaged women.”
We were at Bliss Wedding Boutique as I shopped for my wedding dress—a day typically meant for fun times instead of the bitchy whining-times vibe Sage and Chloe had sprinkled it with.
Mom sighed. “She’s right, ladies. Cut Macy some slack, huh? At least until she walks out on that pedestal and we all gasp and gawk because she’s finally found the perfect gown.”
I blew Mom a kiss, then marched back to the dressing room to slip into dress number seven.
Exhausting. Irritating.
That’s what my few days with my besties had felt like—despite the fact I’d planned a big three-day time-with-my-girls fest. Or maybe I’d just been riding the cranky train since Lucas had been away at Rookie Minicamp for two days. I was straight out addicted to that man and couldn’t seem to breathe without him.
I shimmied out of the mermaid-style dress, soft fabric falling around my ankles. Ginger, the boutique’s dressing assistant, scooped it up after I stepped out of the silk puddle and hung it back onto its hanger.
“Is it always this hard to findthedress, or am I just one of the unlucky ones?” I asked, beginning to feel hopeless. After perusing their catalog, I’d thought it would take minutes, not hours to come across a dress that would make everyone melt.
Ginger shook her head. “Mmm-mmm. Last week, Katie Turner, that gorgeous YouTube makeup tutorial sensation, took twelve hours.” She blinked. “Twelve. Before she finally settled on a cute little diamond-studded minidress. Wanna know the secret in finding the perfect dress?” She helped me get into dress number seven, zipping the back closed before spinning me around to face the mirror. “Just. Breathe.”
