Page 50 of Tiger Lilies and Tight Ends

You name it, I was called everything under the sun—a disgrace, a traitor, a whore, and a cleat chaser. As much as I’ve ignored the chatter, I didn’t foresee the way this picture would turn out. The picture that seems to have taken the sports world by storm.

I’ll admit, it’s a great photo of the two of us, but what people don’t seem to understand is that there isn’t a two of us. At least I don’t think so.

Flipping on my phone, I again glance down at the picture that Morgan sent me. There are hundreds of this exact photo of Dean and me pregame in the friends-and-family section, only those photos never looked like this one. Those looked disconnected and even rushed, and as the years passed, the kisses went from my lips to my forehead. At the time, I thought it was sweet, but now I’m not so sure. This picture looks intimate and, dare I even say, sexy.

Tilting my head, I twist the phone back and forth as if that’s going to change the angle or the image. Maybe it was where this particular photographer was positioned, but we look like we’re standing a lot closer than we were. At least I don’t remember being this close to him. We’re so close our stomachs are almost touching. His finger is wrapped around mine and sitting squarely between us, but his gaze as he stares down at me makes me want to fan myself. If I didn’t know any better, which I do, I would say it looks like his dark eyes are smoldering. His eyelids have dropped a little, the corner of his mouth on the side of his face that’s visible to the viewer is turned up, and he looks so freaking good with his bicep popping underneath that jersey that even I feel swayed from what this moment actually was.

Of course, Morgan was like, “OH MY GOD,” falling into the trap of clickbait and social media. I had to reassure her that nothing had happened between us and I wasn’t keeping secrets from her. Are we closer since I moved here? Yes, but that’s to be expected after living with someone for over two months. Do I feel more for him than I used to? Yes. How could I not? He’s been amazing to me and my situation, and if I’m reading him right, I don’t think he hates me being here. I don’t feel like an inconvenience to him. In fact, I feel quite the opposite.

Speaking of living, this is a conversation that he and I need to have sooner rather than later. People will come out of the woodwork, and once they find out that we’re living together too, it won’t even matter what we say. The world is going to believe what they want.

Which is why I waited for him in the living room to get home from his run and quickly shower.

Today is Tuesday and Tyler’s day off. I don’t know what I expected after the media went to town on him, but I thought he would want to be more low-key and stay in the house. Instead, he’s acted like nothing is different, and he couldn't care less what anyone says about him. He went to practice yesterday and came home happy, then he went out and got us donuts to go with coffee this morning. When he left for his run, he told me that he had somewhere for us to be after he got back. He wouldn’t tell me where, but I figure wherever we’re going, I’ll have time in the truck with him to talk about this. That’s where we are now.

“So you’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask. He’s been entirely too chipper this morning, and the dumb smile on his face definitely tells me he’s up to something.

“Nope.” He has one hand slung over the top of the steering wheel, while his other arm is propped up on the center console. He looks relaxed in a way that’s hot and unsettling at the same time.”

“How long will it take us to get there?” I ask, looking out the window as if I have any recollection of where we’re going. I don’t, as I haven’t been to many places.

“Maybe twenty to thirty minutes.” He pushes up his sunglasses and turns his hat around so it sits backward on his head. He didn’t shave today, and there’s scruff across his jaw. Not only does he look relaxed but he looks good too. Too good.

“Okay, then there’s something I want to talk to you about.” I angle to face him.

He glances over at me, and his brows pop up over his glasses. “All right.”

“You know I’ve started searching for a place to live. Tampa definitely feels like the place I’m meant to be for the foreseeable future, and it’s settling in nicely to my new plan. While you’ve been very generous, it’s been two months, and I think I’m well past the point of now needing to pay for rent and part of the utilities.”

His hand shifts to grip the wheel, and then it tightens. “No,” he says without even looking at me. The sun is bright today, and as we drive east, it’s streaming into the cab of the truck.

“Why not? That’s only fair,” I counter.

He shakes his head a little, pinches his lips together, and then says, “You cook for me. That’s good enough.”

“No, it’s not, and you know it.” While I do buy most of our groceries since I plan the meals, he still buys us takeout some nights and lets me live with him for free. For. Free.

“Lily.” His voice turns stern. “I’m not letting you pay for anything. If I came to stay with you, would you make me pay?”

Of course he has to throw out some reverse psychology on me. “Well, no, but I’m not just staying with you. I’m now pretty much living with you. Two months is a long time.”

“It doesn’t feel like it’s been two months, and honestly, I like having you there.”

My heart thumps in my chest. See, I was reading him correctly.

“Really?”

His right shoulder shrugs. “Yeah. I’m pleasantly surprised. Turns out, I don’t hate having a roommate after all.” He glances at me again and gives me a small grin.

This. This is coming from the guy who I know without a doubt hates roommates and was pretty much placed under duress by guilt from his best friend into this scenario. Maybe it’s that he still hates roommates, but he doesn’t hate me.

“Roommates pay for their half.”

He thinks about this and then shocks me when he says, “Speaking of roommates. You know you don’t have to leave, right? I feel like we had a trial period, and things are going well, so you should just stay and not move out.”

He wants me to stay.

My heart thumps again, and butterflies awaken in my stomach.