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I stare at the check on the countertop.
Twenty million dollars.
Only my boyfriend would bring home a twenty million dollar signing bonus like it’s nothing, leave it on the counter, and disappear into the shower before even kissing his girlfriend hello.
I’m terrified of touching it, like if I do, it will crumble to dust.
Twenty. Million. Dollars. He told me that being the third pick in the NFL draft would come with a hefty price tag, but I never imagined it would be quite that much.
I can’t believe he drove all the way home from Philadelphia without saying a word. We need to have a talk about the way I expect to receive big news, because this isn’t going to cut it.
“He’s back?”
I look over my shoulder. Cooper has been in a spectacularly bad mood recently. His team fell short of the Frozen Four, and even though he won’t admit it, I know he’s going to miss having James around. Soon, James and I are going to be living in Philly. I figured I’d live in the same town my whole life, so going even one state over is a big deal. Living with my boyfriend for real, instead of just hanging out in his off-campus house most nights. Sincegraduation came and went, I’ve been in a state of low-simmering excitement and panic.
Last fall, when my ex was harassing me and I made a deal with James that I’d tutor him if he pretended to be my boyfriend, I never expected it to blossom into this. This wild, weird life that’s apparently mine.He’smine, for as long as I want him, which I already know will be forever. We’re not engaged or anything yet, but knowing him, he’s thought about how he’s going to ask.
“Yeah,” I tell Cooper. “Left this on the counter while I was cooking dinner and went to go shower. Without saying anything.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Why do you sound upset?”
“Look at it!” I brandish the check at him. “Who doesn’t talk about this?”
Cooper takes the check, glancing at it for half a second before setting it back on the counter. “I don’t get it. This is awesome, you guys are set.”
“He could have, I don’t know, mentioned what his agent was negotiating for him.”
Cooper rubs his beard. We all begged him to cut it after the hockey season ended, but he hasn’t, so he looks like a lumberjack. If he’s not careful, Sebastian is going to sneak into his room in the middle of the night with clippers. “You know him. He isn’t really thinking about it. It’s a means to an end.”
“Only rich people talk like that.”
He shrugs. “Might need to bump up your rent threshold. I saw your Zillow account.”
I flush. It wasn’t even a discussion that James and I would move to Philadelphia together, but despite starting to look, we haven’t found a place yet. Cooper’s right, though. The places I’ve been looking at us renting are laughable in the face of this check. He could buy an entire apartment building with money like this.
“I was being realistic.”
He wanders over to the stove, peering underneath the lid of a pot. “There’s realistic, and then there’s depressing. What did you make for dinner?”
“Red sauce. And I made cheesecake.” With the diner sold and school over, I’ve had free time on my hands for the first time since I was a little kid. It’s weird, being in such a limbo. I’ve been looking for a job, but most of what I’ve done this June is work on a new photography series and cook up a storm. Sebastian has been helping—we’re an awesome duo in the kitchen—but tonight he has an end-of-season thing with his baseball team.
“I love you,” Cooper says fervently.
I roll my eyes fondly as I open the cabinet next to the stove. “I thought you didn’t even like cheesecake.”
“I like anything you make.” He watches as I reach for the pasta bowls, which unfortunately elude me even on my tiptoes. I’m going to have to get the stepstool, which I hate doing because it makes the Callahan brothers—even my boyfriend—hoot with laughter.
“Here, princess,” I hear James say. He comes up behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist and grabbing the bowls with ease. He winks as he sets them on the counter, apparently completely unfazed by my very best glare.
I cross my arms over my chest. James’s hair is damp from the shower, and he smells like his woodsy aftershave. The Eagles sent him a ton of gear after the draft to welcome him to the organization, so he’s wearing one of a dozen deep green T-shirts. The color looks especially nice against his summer tan. “I’m mad at you, you know.”
He glances at his brother, who retreats to the kitchen table. “Why?”
“This!” I say, grabbing the check and waving it in his face. “What if I spilled tomato sauce on it or threw it out? Who brings home this kind of money and just leaves it on the counter?”
He blinks. “We’re having pasta for dinner?”
“That’s not the point.”
