Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
I run a palm down my face. “Okay, I’ll change my ticket for tomorrow.”
Cameron exhales a massive breath. “No. I don’t want you flying commercial. I’ll arrange a private flight so you’re not bombarded at the airport with questions about why you’re flying to LA a day after playing golf with Coach. The chat boards are already on fire with theories and speculation about what today’s golf game meant—and some of those theories are dead-on accurate.”
“I’ve got to go,” I murmur, feeling overwhelmed. “I’m pulling in to my hotel.”
After we hang up, I start walking toward the bank of bungalows before me. With each step I take, I try to shake off the disappointment I feel about my earlier-than-planned goodbye tomorrow. Today is the best day of my life, for fuck’s sake. I should be feeling nothing but unadulterated elation.
As I walk, I slap my cheek. Literally. And tell myself to pull it together. My conversation with Cameron was the reality check I needed. He’s right. It’s time for me to focus on what matters most—being the best quarterback, teammate, and father I can possibly be—and to forget the silly fantasies I’ve been harboring about Iris possibly being The One.
Chapter 22
Iris
As I enter the bungalow, I glimpse Roman on the deck through an open French door. He’s got his feet up and a beer in his hand. My entire body buzzes at the sight of him. As pathetic as it sounds, despite the short time I’ve spent with him, I missed Roman like crazy today. So much so, I physically ached for him.
I thought it’d be a nice change of pace to have some alone time while Roman played golf with his old friend, so I used a couple of my activity vouchers for two all by my lonesome. But as it turned out, even when I was having fun, I couldn’t stop thinking I’d be having even more fun if Roman were there, too. Even when my cute windsurfing instructor asked me out to dinner, my only thoughts were about Roman and how much I wanted to come back here and have dinner with him.
“Hey there, handsome,” I say, as I enter the patio.
Roman looks up and flashes me a million-dollar smile. “Hey, beautiful.” He pats the cushion next to him on the couch and kisses me when I plop onto it. “Did you have fun today?”
“So much fun. I missed you, though.” The minute the admission leaves my mouth, I’m worried I shouldn’t have made it.
But as soon as I’ve had the thought, Roman, unfazed, replies breezily with, “I missed you, too. What’d you do?”
I snuggle into him and rattle off all the fun stuff I did today, wrapping things up with, “And nobody recognized me, even once!” Granted, I was wearing sunglasses and a hat all day. Also, no makeup, like all the times I’ve been out and about with Roman without getting recognized. But, still, I’m hoping today’s uneventfulness is a sign my internet fame is already a thing of the past.
Roman squeezes my hand. “I told you everything would blow over quickly. What happens on the internet isn’t real.”
I hold up crossed fingers. “How was golf?”
A wide grin spreads across Roman’s achingly handsome face. “It was life-changing.”
“You got a hole in one?”
He laughs. “Even better. I got a new team. I know where I’m going to play next season.”
“Congratulations! What team?”
“I can’t tell you that yet. Everything is still on a need-to-know basis. All I can say is I’m elated about where I’m going. It was my top pick.”
I pepper his face with kisses, making him belly laugh.
“I’m so happy for you. How on earth did a game of golf lead to this incredible news?”
Roman tells me the identity of his golfing partner, confidentially, and also how everything went down today and why it’s such a big deal—although, once again, he emphasizes he can’t divulge the identity of his new team or its city. When he’s done talking, I pepper him with kisses and freak out with happiness for him. Clearly, wherever Roman is going, today’s events are positively enthralling to him, and his obvious elation is a thrill for me to witness.
“This is all highly confidential, okay?” Roman repeats, even though he’s already told me that, more than once. “The only people who know are my closest family members, my agent, and you.”
My heart flutters to think he’s trusting me so much. “I won’t say a word to anyone. I promise.”
“Not even to your closest family or friends. The internet is already going wild with speculation.”
“My lips are sealed. How long will I be keeping this secret?”
“A week or two, maybe. You’ll know when the secret is out, because there’ll be a big news conference and social media will blow up. Trust me, football fans are going to go batshit crazy over this news.”