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“She showed up after eight months of radio silence and said nothing. She swept me aside again.”
“Because she was trying to be respectful of Palmer, you dummy.”
With my brow furrowed, the edge of my mouth quirks. “She tell you all this?”
“No, but I know Nova. Especially after what Julia did to her back in high school. Do you really think she’s going to crap on someone else’s relationship or try to sabotage it? She knows what it feels like to be betrayed by another girl.”
“She’s only been dating that guy for a few weeks. They’re not serious. They don’t have what Palmer and I had. She doesn’t owe that guy anything. All she had to say was, give me a few days, so she can break things off, and I’d have been patient. But, no, she told me I could go sleep with other women.”
“Were those her exact words?”
“Close enough.”
Willa cocks her head. “So you think fighting for her once when she was in the middle of one of the most complicated and emotional situations earns you the right to demand she fight this time?”
“I fought for her more than that. And I’m fighting for her now. I poured out my freaking soul to her.”
“Then why did you walk out on her on Thanksgiving rather than giving her a chance to talk?”
The truth settles in my chest. Because I couldn’t bear the thought of rejection after all of that. After everything.
“Okay. Look. You’re my baby brother. I hear you. I understand where you’re coming from. I see your hurt, but are you even trying to see where Nova’s coming from?” Willa angles her knees toward me, leaning forward as she tucks a lock of blonde hair back. “Can you imagine how she must have felt, coming to your hotel room to surprise you—maybe even thinking she was going to finally start something with you—only to have your girlfriend, she didn’t know you were back with, answer the door?”
That night replays like a crackled film reel. Nova’s bright smile, her high-pitched enthusiasm, the speed in which she left. Everything about her screamed uncomfortable. If she was so broken up, why not be real with me? Why not open up?
Willa’s hand lands on my knee. “What if the roles were reversed, and you’d heard she was in Miami, and you got her address from a friend and showed up at her place with the intention to win her over, and Anders answered the door? What would you have done?”
I’d have decked him and walked away.
Willa sees the answer in my eyes, her lips pursing with a head nod as if to say, “You know I’m right.”
“So, what do you suggest I do?”
“Not hold her integrity against her, for one. And be patient. She might come around soon, and you’d kick yourself if she did and you were in a place where you couldn’t reciprocate again.”
* * *
I’d never been to a charity function until I joined the major leagues, and now I swear I’ve gone to half a dozen. Gala’s aren’t exactly my scene, but tonight’s is actually one I’m happy to attend. TSG is raising funds for the Children’s Hospital for Christmas. And while I don’t know much about how these events work, other than the five-hundred dollar dinner plate, if schmoozing with big money donors and attending a black-tie affair benefits sick kids, I’m all for it.
I’ve been a mostly silent participant in a conversation between my agent Brad, and Roman Rossy, GM of the Sharks, for a good twenty minutes while they talk about me like I’m not here. Brad uses his finesse to connect and subtly ease in why having me stay with the Sharks is the right move, while I smile, nod, and offer an agreeable comment here and there.
And then my gaze skims the ballroom, and I lose all brain functionality. In a creamy white dress, the tight material forms her frame. My stare absorbs every inch, from the high neck to the long billowy sleeves to the hem, stopping halfway up her thighs. It’s like Nova knew I’d be here tonight and wanted to torment me with my Achilles heel: her long, shapely legs.
Itching to make a beeline through the other guests, I stop short when she’s not alone, nor is Benito on her arm. No, it’s a built, blond guy in a sleek designer suit. I’m no fashion expert, but any man in this venue can see he’s dripping money. He’s got one of those cut glass jaw lines women love that only exist on models or made-up men, and hair that he probably spent an hour trying to make look like he spent no time at all.
So that’s it. This is my answer. She might’ve gotten rid of Benito but replaced him with another. And he’s not me.
Nova slips her arm through his, resting her head against his shoulder with an endeared smile. He reaches over, curling his hand over hers, tapping his temple on the top of her head. This isn’t first date interaction. It’s been three weeks. How did she meet this guy? Where’s Benito?
Whoisthis guy?
And then another man slides in on her other side, bracing his hand on the small of her back. This one I recognize. The bearded one I saw her with at VIBE. When he offers her a glass of champagne she pulls away from Suit Dude, accepting the flute with a smile and taking a slip.What the hell is going on?These guys are so smooth, I half-expect her to hand out roses.
That’s it. I’m trying to follow Willa’s advice and give Nova space, but I can’t sit back and watch this. Brad’s going to be pissed, considering Rossy has the final say in roster placements after spring training, but if I don’t go over there now, I might miss the chance to watch Nova flounder as she introduces me to her dates.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Rossy, Brad.” I pat my agent on the shoulder as I ease to the side. “Can you two excuse me?”
I should wait for a response. That would be the wisest move, but I can’t have Brad holding me back. I pay his salary, he’ll get over it.
