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“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she breathes out before chuckling. “The baby’s just been kicking like crazy.”
“Baby?” I repeat, eyes widening. “You’re pregnant?”
She lets out a gentle laugh as my head spins at the news. Was that the family emergency that had her stepping away? Maternity leave? Why didn’t she just say so? “Yes, I am. I had some complications early on, which is why I left the game so suddenly when you stepped in. Thankfully, that’s behind us and everything’s fine. But the cat’s going to be out of the bag soon, and I wanted you to hear it from me first,” she says with a chuckle.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why the secrecy?” I ask, smiling at the security guard who waves me into Reed’s familiar neighborhood.
“Sid, my husband, and I didn’t want it to be a whole thing in the media during my pregnancy,” she informs me. “He plays for Indianapolis.”
Oh, God, this is way too much information. As I pull into Reed’s driveway, noting the few other cars parked, I slowly ask, “Your husband is Sid Walters?” He’s the goddamn running back for Indianapolis’s pro team and I’ve never heard Vivian so much as mention his name outside of a professional reference.
“Yes,” Vivian answers, and I can just hear the smile in her voice. “We met during the playoffs a few seasons ago, and got married early last year. We’ve been pretty hush-hush about it, because you know how the public can be. But after the baby gets here, no more secrets. Thank God.”
Once I’m parked, I lean back in the seat, her words registering. Holy shit. . . are Vivian and her husband potentially Reed and I in the future? The thought makes my stomach flutter, and I swallow the lump in my throat and ask, “Do you regret keeping it a secret all these years?” When I realize how intrusive and nosy that question is, a gasp sounds from me and I sit up, panicked. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be so—”
“No, no, it’s alright, Willow,” she says with a laugh. “I’m the one who told you, so I expect you to have questions. All good journalists do.” Her compliment warms my cheeks. “To answer your question, yes, I do. I know we were doing it to protect my career, because God knows a man’s career wouldn’t take a hit if he was in a relationship with someone beneath him in the social hierarchy of things. But sometimes all a woman wants is to be able to go out to a nice dinner with her husband without worrying about who’d see them. Whether we had told them before or we tell them now, after the baby comes, there won’t be much of a difference in the response from the public. People will always have their own opinions. It’s up to us if we want to let them rule the way we live or just say a big fuck you and keep doing our thing.”
Her words make me smile, easing some of the pressure in my chest. “That makes sense,” I say softly. “What about work, though? Would you have faced backlash from your bosses for dating someone in the NFL?”
“No,” Vivian scoffs, and her answer has my eyes widening. “It’s none of their business who we’re in relationships with. Especially given that we work so closely with the athletes; it wouldn’t be a surprise if feelings came out of it. It’s only natural. Besides, they can’t fire someone for that; that’s just asking for a wrongful termination lawsuit. All they care about is their channel getting the views and ratings.” In a conspiring tone, she adds, “If you ask me, if their host is dating a professional athlete of some sort, that’s more ratings for them.”
I laugh at that, knowing she’s not entirely wrong. Her words relax me in my seat, my mind running with thoughts of how, maybe, I had been scared and nervous for nothing. Maybe I don’t have to hide my relationship with Reed—now that my position has become permanent. Which is a shocking fact all on its own and I’m sure I’ll be screaming as soon as Vivian and I hang up. All that I have ever wanted, I’m finally getting. It all just seems so damn surreal.
But I sure as hell wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I look towards Reed’s house in front of me, and let out a slow breath. We deserve to be happy, don’t we? And we deserve to be happy without worrying about other people’s opinions. I believe that. We spent months dancing around one another, all too aware of us being in the same hotel whenever we traveled for away games, feeling his gaze on me whenever I interviewed his teammates. Now, we spent the last few weeks keeping things behind closed doors, only a few people we trust knowing what’s going on.
And it’s been fun, honestly. This time to ourselves is special, having our relationship grow naturally, away from the limelight, and being able to bask in the glow of it. And taking this time to see a side of Reed I hadn’t before. He’s different when it’s just the two of us, when he’s not a professional athlete and I’m not a sports journalist—just a boyfriend and a girlfriend, enjoying each other’s company.
I never thought Reed Maxwell would be the kind of person who would make me laugh and feel so comfortable—and then, in the same breath, leave my head spinning when he kisses and touches me like that’s all he ever wants to do. The sight of him lounging in my bed in nothing but sweats, showing off his chiseled torso and muscular arms is one I see in my goddamn dreams, even though I have the real thing.
And now, maybe, thanks to what Vivian told me, maybe I can have the real thing without hiding it much longer.
With a breath, I walk up to Reed’s house, butterflies fluttering around in my stomach as I walk past the few cars parked in the driveway. When I ring the doorbell, I only have to wait a couple of seconds before the door swings open and I’m greeted by Reed and that sexy, slow grin of his that I’ll never get bored of.
I see his dark eyes do a slow perusal of me, the front of my dress visible since I didn’t button up my coat. Vivian’s news already has me feeling warm enough, and being on this end of Reed’s stare only heats my blood up more. My curls from the wedding have loosened from the fancy updo from all of the dancing, and I’m not even sure if most of my makeup is even still on, but the way Reed looks at me makes me feel like I just walked off a damn runway.
“Hi,” I smile at him, a little breathlessly, as I step towards him.
Reed opens the door wider and lets me in, arm wrapping around my waist to tug me close as he shuts the door and kisses me soundly. My heart jumps at the feel of his lips against mine, parting them for me so his tongue can tease mine before he murmurs, “You look beautiful tonight.”
The compliment has my cheeks firing up as we pull away, grinning. “Thank you.” I can hear the sounds of people chatting and laughing in the direction of the living room, and I say, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
He shakes his head. “Not at all,” he says. “It’s just the guys. Come on,” he adds, taking my jacket off for me and hanging it in the coat closet by the door. He presses his hand to the small of my back as we walk toward the living room and he asks, “How was the wedding?”
“Absolutely wonderful,” I tell him with a wistful sigh, my heels clicking against the sleek floors of his house. “I definitely cried. And I definitely missed you.”
I would’ve enjoyed dancing with Reed at the wedding, to see him all dressed up in a suit—because he wears thosewell—and maybe I would have if the conversation with Vivian had happened earlier.
We enter the living room, and that’s where I see Leo, Caden, and JJ hanging out, lounging on the couch and watching, ironically enough, a baseball game. “Willow!” JJ grins when we enter. “How’s it going? Nice dress.”
I laugh, leaning into Reed’s side, enjoying the press of his warm hand against my exposed back. “It's been going well since I saw you two days ago,” I tease. “And thanks,” I add with a laugh, running a hand down the skirt of my dress.
“You joining us?” Leo asks with a smile, gesturing to the couch with the beer in his hand.
I nod. “Yeah, but I think I wanna change first,” I say, looking toward Reed.
He nods, giving the guys abe right backlook before he pulls me in the direction of the stairs towards his bedroom. As the sounds of the TV and the guys chatting grow distant as we head upstairs, I tell Reed, “I need to talk to you about something.”
