Page 45 of Lucky 22

Taking his hand, I lead him to a quiet corner. “Okay, soremember the game I went to when I was wearing your jersey?”

He nods.

“Well, I was there with a guy I was dating. He’s the one whobought me the jersey.”

Another nod.

“He’s friends with all of my friends and, he’shere.”

“Okay…”

“I already called him to let him know I’m dating someone, buthe doesn’t know it’s you.” I pause, waiting to see if he’ll react, but hedoesn’t. “I’m just a little…I don’t know. It feels a little surreal that hebrought me to an Anaheim Magic game, bought me your jersey, and now you and Iare dating.” The words fly out of my mouth so fast that even I can barelyunderstand what I’m saying. Somehow, Christian gets it.

“Ah. Okay. I guess that is a little bit of a coincidence,but you weren’t dating him when you and I went out for the first time, right?”

“No. I had already broken up with him.”

“Then I don’t see an issue. It’s a coincidence, but that’sall it is. And maybe a little funny.” Then he tugs me in close. “And you and Iwere going to meet, whether or not you were at that game. We had to. Ourfriends were already talking about it. You being at the game just added alittle more, you know, luck to our story.”

Our story.

I like that we have one.

But I love that Christian knows it, too.

Chapter Eight

If I thought those five days in Tempe were magical,they were nothing compared to this new chapter of our lives.

Now that Christian is back in California, we see each otherconstantly. He often drives to LA during the week to see me, and then I go andstay with him in Newport Beach. I always associate him with being in Anaheimbecause he spends so much time at the stadium, but his home is right by theocean, and it is incredible.

You wouldn’t think it’d be a big deal, given I’m fromFlorida, but I grew up in the middle of the state. The beaches were over anhour away, so it wasn’t like I saw them regularly. Being able to spend theweekends walking hand in hand along the sand with the man I love is wildlyromantic.

We have a favorite spot where he takes me to watch thesunset overlooking the ocean, and I can’t help but marvel, again, at the factthat he was single before we met.

“Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” I ask in purewonder as the sun sets.

Christian turns his head, and I wish I had a camera becausehe looks so handsome, relaxed, and happy. The boyish grin he gives me makes myheart flutter.

“I don’t think I’m amazing,” he replies, playfully nudgingme with his shoulder. “But I guess I do okay.”

“Are you kidding me? These last weeks have been likesomething out of a Hallmark movie. You put so much thought into everything wedo, and you make it all so romantic.” I sigh happily. “It’s still a little hardto believe that there aren’t women chasing after you.”

That makes him laugh. “Ella Rose, I don’t think I’m doinganything so special. Last night, we got Slurpees from7-Eleven after having pizza. I’d hardly call that romantic.”

Silly man.

“But it is,” I say. “I think we’re all a bit trained tobelieve romance means fancy and expensive dinners, flowers, and jewelry. But Ithink it’s romantic when you put thought into doing things you know the otherperson really loves.”

“Like pizza and slushies?” he teases.

Laughing, I nod. “Like pizza and slushies. Don’t get mewrong, I love going to dinner at a fancy restaurant once in a while, but I’mreally more of a simple girl. I enjoy taking these walks on the beach andwatching sunsets and eating food that doesn’t cost more than my rent.”

He nods in agreement. “Then it doesn’t bother you when Icook for us instead of going out?”

Oh, yeah. You read that right. He cooks.

“Are you kidding? I love it. You’re really good at it. It’simpressive.”