Jake was two thousand miles away, but he couldn’t get Mackenzie off his mind. He should be having the time of his life. The network was wining and dining him, his agency had rolled out the red carpet again now that there was a deal on the horizon, and he was back on the town with his old teammates and friends again.

It was everything he’d wanted, the whole damn reason he’d taken the job. But even as the party whirled around him, he didn’t feel a damn thing.

“Not too shabby, huh Jake?” One of his old buddies, Reggie, raised a glass from across the table. They were hanging at some VIP-only rooftop bar in Hollywood, the kind of place crammed with booze, and music, and beautiful women, with the city lights laid out below. “I told you, this is the way to go. If you can’t be on the field, get the sideline pass instead.”

“Right.” Jake tilted his glass, but his heart wasn’t in it. He was just thinking about calling it an early night and heading back to his apartment when Trey appeared, followed by a server with a fresh round of drinks.

“How are my favorite former players doing?” Trey beamed at them. He was dressed to kill, California-casual in dark jeans and a white button-down, with designer shades tucked in his open collar.

“Seriously?” Jake asked, smirking. “Shades. At night?”

“Oh, these things?” Trey acted like he’d forgotten they were even there. “I’ve got to wear them when I drive, man. Sensitive eyes.”

Reggie whooped with laughter. “Dude. You Uber everywhere.”

Trey laughed it off. “You like them? I know the designer, I can hook you up.”

“No man, I’ve got a deal coming with All-Star,” Reggie said. “I can’t be promoting the competition.”

“Good point. We need to get you one of those deals,” Trey said to Jake. He pulled out his phone and tapped a note. “And sneakers, too. Maybe an energy drink, or something. Water’s getting big, I hear.”

“Right,” Jake said slowly, trying to take it all in. “Water. Because it’s always been so underrated.”

“Hey, the opportunities are out there, it’s what you pay me my percentage for,” Trey grinned. “I know you never chased this stuff while you were playing, but now you’re a civilian, we’ve got way more options on the table.”

“I know it seems weird,” Reggie spoke up. “But he’s right. You don’t have any conflicts with team sponsors now. You can rack them up, anyway you like. I’m doing a duster commercial next month.”

Trey’s head shot up. “No way. Domestic products,” he translated to Jake. “Big market. Huge.”

“They sent a truckload over to the house,” Reggie laughed. “Now we’ve got dry mops for days. The wife says I better do diamonds next time, and get some better freebies.”

“Cleaning products,” Trey repeated, still tapping his phone.

Jake nudged him. “Cut that out. I’m not going to go hawking dish soap.”

“If they offer the right price, you will.” Trey caught himself. “Hey, I get it, we only want top-draw deals. Leave it with me, you’ll be protected.”

Jake stifled a sigh. Ever since he’d stepped off the plane, it had been like this. Business lunches and sponsor drinks. Everyone was talking big money and lining up the next deal, and nobody had uttered a damn word about football. But that was his job, they told him. Look great for the camera and talk good game, and he’d be cashing those checks all day long.

It was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? A slice of his old life again, to prove he still mattered. As if the size of his bank account would give him purpose, or fill the empty space that playing the game had left behind.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Trey said, looking concerned. “You know I’m just kidding you about the sponsorship deals. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I know.” Jake sighed. “I guess I’m just not feeling it tonight.”

“I know one sure-fire way of turning that around.” Trey winked, and then waved across the rooftop.

Jake followed his gaze straight to a trio of women, out on the town in LA-cool jeans and plunging tops. One waved back at Trey and then leaned in to murmur to her friends. “No man,” he protested quickly, but it was too late, they were already making their way over, sashaying on stiletto heels.

“Paulina, look at you, and Krista.” Trey got up to greet them all by name. He never forgot a face—or a single detail of their bio. “How was the Barcelona shoot? I bet you crushed it.”

One of the women, with striking dark hair, gave a casual shrug. “I think it’s the cover next month.”

“I’ll have to check it out. Ladies, this is my good friend Jake, he’s the newest on-screen talent for ESPN.” Trey looked so proud, it was like he was the one with the shiny new title. “He’s just recovering from a broken heart, so be gentle with him.”

“Trey!” Jake glared, but Trey just winked and leaned in.

“Trust me, women love to help you heal.”

He was right. The dark-haired Paulina immediately moved in close beside him on the couch and murmured her sympathies. “I just got out of a long-term relationship, too,” she said, gazing up at him with wide eyes. “We were together three months.”

Jake couldn’t judge. He’d spent, what, a few weeks with Mackenzie, and it had been more than enough to fall for her. “I’m sorry,” he said.

She put her hand on his thigh. “Time heals,” she said, still looking so sincere. “Time, and support.”

The hand moved higher.

Jake slid away and got to his feet. “I really need to call it a night,” he told Trey, who already had his arm draped around Paulina’s friend.

“Sure man, whatever you need. Remember, you’ve got the eleven a.m. with our publicity team, and then I’ve lined up a stylist at two.”

Jake frowned. “A stylist?”

“You’re not going to go shopping for all your new clothes, are you?” Trey countered. “This girl’s great, she does all the pro names.”

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

“No rest for the wicked!”

Paulina was still making eyes at him, so Jake wasn’t going to hang around to disagree. “Fine. I’ll see you then.”

He made his way out through the rowdy crowd and down to street level, where his car arrived almost immediately.

“Hey, I know you,” his driver said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Miami, right?”

“Not anymore,” Jake said.

“Oh yeah, that hit. Heard it was a rough one. Glad to see you’re on your feet again.”

“Thanks.”

The city slipped past his windows.

It didn’t hurt like it used to.

The compliments and sympathies used to cut deep, but now they rolled off him with barely a flinch. It was bound to happen, he guessed—or maybe it was because that old wound had been replaced by something fresh and bloodied.

After all, his pride didn’t hurt nearly as much as a broken heart.

---

Back at his rental, Jake let himself in and tossed his keys to the empty countertop with a clatter. He looked around at the polished floors and sleek, modern furniture, and remembered the cozy chaos of Mackenzie’s tiny cottage. Her whole house could have fit in his master suite, but he’d never felt more at home than when he was curled on that overstuffed velvet couch in front of the roaring fire, her legs draped across his lap, and the red in her hair blazing in the dim light.

He fought the urge to call her. It was late on the East Coast, and she was probably fast asleep. Not that she would even pick up the phone. No, Mackenzie had always been the stubborn one, with a pride to match even his own. There were no second chances with her, not once you crossed her. And now he was on the outside, and he had nobody to blame but himself.

Was this really what he’d turned his world upside down for?

Jake slid open the terrace door and stepped out into the balmy night air. He had a million-dollar view, surrounded by the lights of downtown, but he hadn’t slept in days from all the hum of traffic and the echoes of street noise downstairs. It had never bothered him before, just the white noise of city life, but coming from the thick, dark midnight back in Sweetbriar Cove, he just couldn’t find his old rhythms again.

He leaned against the balcony railing and took it all in. The city lights, the buzz—everything he thought he’d wanted. He’d traveled before, all over, sometimes for months at a time, but he’d always been able to slip effortlessly back into his routine.

It didn’t feel like home, and he didn’t even need to wonder why.

She wasn’t there. And he wasn’t with her.

Why?

Because he’d needed to prove himself and feel like a man: with status, and a paycheck he didn’t need, and all the trappings of his old life, like they could ever turn the clock back. It was bullshit, all of it, and she’d known that from the start. He flinched to remember that last fight, how she’d seen right through him.

You’re feeling guilty right now, only you don’t want to, so you’re getting resentful instead.

Yeah, that was about right. It still blew him away how she knew him so well, better than he knew himself sometimes. She’d seen he was pulling away, trying to blow the whole thing up, but still, she’d put her heart on the line and told him everything. How she felt.

I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen.

How could he have missed it, the first time around? She was his friend, his best friend, the one he could always count on, but he’d never even noticed that she’d wanted more. And then when they’d met again after all these years, he still hadn’t realized. He’d been so caught up in his own drama, pushing her away, he’d ignored how special what they shared could really be.

The passion. The white-hot chemistry. And more than that, the feeling of total ease and safety when she was in his arms—where she belonged. A man could go his whole life never feeling that bond, and what did he do when he was finally blessed enough to have it right there for the taking?

He shut down. Turned on her. Ran scared, because the thought of facing the unknown there in Sweetbriar with her was more terrifying to him than taking the easy way out here. Without her.

Damn, he’d been a fool.

Was it really too late for them?

Jake paused, a small flash of hope cutting through the darkness.

He wasn’t a quitter. That was what had made him a relentless player: whatever it took to make it happen, no matter how long he had to train, no matter how punishing the process. He fought, and he won, every time.

So why wasn’t he fighting for her?

He turned on his heel and stepped back inside, already pulling out his phone to call a car. It was forty minutes to the airport, six hours on a plane, another two on the road to make it to the Cape, but that was nothing compared to a lifetime without her.

He was late already, and there was no time to spare.