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He tugs the ends of my hair. “Don’t, Spitfire. Don’t put me on a pedestal because of what’s happened in my life. My story isn’t unique.That’swhat I learned this weekend. With my mom and your dad’s prompting, I gave Brad a call, and we started working on a plan.”
Devin doesn’t miss the quirk of my lips.
“Yeah, yeah. I said plan. C’mon.” He nudges me and we sit up. “Let’s get some ice cream, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Rolling out of his bed, I search for the clothes he stripped me of earlier. “You’ve been here two nights and you bought ice cream? I’m shocked.” I glance over my shoulder with a smirk and still as Devin watches me from the edge of his mattress, his eyes devouring my naked body. “Dev?” I prod when he doesn’t blink.
With a huff, he shakes his head. “I told you, I lose track of everything but you when you’re around.” He slips his muscular legs into his joggers and tosses a Sharks shirt at me, making my cheeks hurt as I smile at my man.
“You’re gorgeous, Dimples,” he whispers against my cheek before taking my hand and tugging me into the other room.
Pulling a pint of Cherry Garcia—a taste of Burlington, Vermont, here in Miami—from the freezer in his mini-kitchen, Devin grabs two spoons and steers me toward the couch. “I talked to Collin Panovitch.”
I flinch at the name, cuddling into Devin’s side while maintaining enough room to dig into dessert.
“I offered him an exclusive if he’d keep my story under wraps for a little longer.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because he wasn’t going to sit on it forever. With or without my side. By offering him the story, I can ensure the truth is told and not some over-sensationalized horror story created for page clicks or magazine sales.”
It makes sense, even if I hate it has to happen this way.
“I won’t bring up Damian, though. That will be up to his family. My mom called Damian’s grandparents. Brad sat on the line with her to provide legal counsel, if necessary—”
“Brad’s a lawyer? I don’t know why I forget how many of our agents went to law school before coming to TSG. Why didn’t he just threaten Panovitch?” I’m only half-teasing.
Devin knocks my spoon out of his way. “Because he has every right to report what he heard and researched, no matter how invasive it is.”
“I know.” I dig a heaping spoonful out. “So, Damian’s family, they asked you to keep him out of it?”
“They’re discussing options. They didn’t explicitly ask me to keep my mouth shut, but they asked me to keep what she did to him from the story if possible.”
“So you mention your friendship and connection to the family, but tell your experience. Will that be enough?”
“It will be once I do an on-air interview with Suzy Kaufman.”
“At ESBN?” A live interview with the largest sports network in the world? “Dev, no. I don’t want you going LIVE and feeling obligated to open up about this.”
“It’s okay, Nov. Someone at the network owed Brad a favor, and he called it in. I’m feeling good about it. Honestly, there was no way I was going to keep the story hidden forever.”
No, but it shouldn’t have been because of me. It should’ve been on Devin’s terms, not because I had a private conversation in public.
Planting his spoon in the container, Devin reaches for my right ankle and draws my leg across his knees. “Stop blaming yourself. Someone was going to dig into my past eventually. I’m going to share my story with Panovitch and then do a pre-recorded interview with Suzy to air the same day the article breaks.”
“And you’re really okay with all this?”
“I think I finally am. I don’t want to hide, to perpetuate the shame of victims. And hopefully my story will reach someone who needs to hear that there’s life after the darkness, a good life.”
I mold my palm to his bristled cheek. “Even still, I know this won’t be an easy thing for you to open up about. I’m really proud of you.”
Devin swivels his head, kissing the inside of my wrist. “So, um… Sarah helped me secure a lease on the Spanish stucco house in Coral Gables we toured.”
“When?”
“She emailed the paperwork this morning. I’ll meet with her tomorrow to officially sign. I needed a place to call home. A place to keep my belongings. I’m not pushing you to make any decisions. Move in with me or keep your place. Travel with me this season, or stay home. If I have to start the season back in Jacksonville and wait to be called up again, or if I’m traded, I don’t want you to think being with me means following me wherever I go. There are plenty of athletes who live apart from their families. It won’t come without its challenges, but whatever we have to do, we’ll make it work. I’m happy as long as you’re happy, Nov.”
“I just want to be where you are. I don’t care if it’s too soon. I want to live with you. And if you get sent back to triple-A, I’ll visit and keep the house warm until you get back. It was my favorite of the ones you’ve shown me.”
