It’s easier this way.
Maybe we never would’ve worked out in the real world, and sure, it’s been great making sure I’m in top shape to return to the field in a couple months while working on the foundation in every spare moment I have, but nothing has helped the pressing ache of loneliness.
Nothing has helped me forget about her, either. About the fact that she’s here as long as I am. That she’s in the same tower as me, that she’s still close enough to call.
And so, on a Friday night, I finally decide to let myself out of my cage. I’m not sure why. Maybe my intention isto meet someone new. To have a good time. To help ease the isolation.
It turns out to be a bigger mistake than I ever could have imagined.
I should have just stayed in my room.
I head down to the restaurant in my tower—the same one I first met Millie at.
It’s crowded just like it was last time, but at first, it feels good to be out of my room and among other people again.
Clive called ahead for me, and the hostess tells me to follow her to my table.
It’s as we approach a table that my eyes catch on the woman at the table beside the one where the hostess is stopping.
Long, wavy blonde hair that seems to sway in some breeze even though we’re indoors and there’s no breeze to speak of in here. Wide, light blue eyes that I once knew so well.
My eyes move to the man she’s with, and I’d recognize him anywhere. Of course I would. He’s my fucking brother, the traitor who married my ex-girlfriend.
My stomach lurches as the blindside plows headfirst into me.
I’m about to dart away from the table and run back up to my room, away from this disaster, when Tatum’s eyes meet mine.
Her mouth moves into a surprisedO-shape, and I see my name form on her lips even though I don’t hear her voice.
My brother turns around, and his eyes land squarely on me.
Fuck. There’s no running now.
Ford rises to a stand, and he looks well and truly shocked to see me standing here.
“Archer,” he says quietly. “What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t speak the words, and neither does Tatum, but there’s this underlying question of whether I’m here to stop their vacation, possibly theirhoneymoon, the way I tried—and failed—to stop their wedding.
“Fuck this,” I mutter, and I turn to walk out of the restaurant when I slam into the woman standing right behind me.
Any guesses who that might be?
This just keeps getting better and fucking better.
Her eyes are wide as she correctly assesses the situation, and I remember one time when she told me how she’s a huge football fan. I’ve told her enough about my past that clearly she has deduced what’s going on here without me having to utter a single word.
“Sorry I’m late, babe,” she says, and she rises to her tiptoes to press a kiss to my lips. She lets her fingertips linger on my jaw for a beat, and when I pull back, her eyes are searching mine. It’s like she’s trying to tell me something, and IthinkI understand.
I follow her lead even though I haven’t spoken to her in six days. “No worries.” I nod at Ford, who’s staring at me like I’m from outer space. It would be comical if I felt like laughing.
“Hi, I’m Millie,” she says, sticking her hand out toward my brother. “I’m sorry, Archer isn’t the best at social cues sometimes.” She laughs affectionately as she leans into me a little, her eyes still on my brother. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Ford,” he says, his voice an echo as he tries to piece together what the hell is going on.
Truth be told…so am I.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “This is my brother, Ford, and his wife, Tatum.” I purposely call herhis wiferather thanmy ex, but I’m certain Millie knows exactly who they are. I don’t look at Tatum as I say the words. “And this is Millie.”
