Chapter 29

Liza

 

 

I felt terrible for Milo. He wasn’t around children and hadn’t built up a tolerance to the lovely germs and bugs that tended to follow kids around. Working in a school, I had been exposed plenty. Thankfully, I rarely got sick anymore, but Milo was a fresh, new victim. I should have thought about that before he came over to help with Ainsley—oops.

He would recover fast, I was sure of it. He was a strong, healthy guy, and this was a minor bump in the road. If he planned on spending time with Ainsley, he needed to start getting used to these bouts. While he was sick, I would do what I could to take care of him. I think it must have been that motherly instinct that made me want to help him. I wanted to tuck him in and feed him soup.

It made me feel helpful and needed. He needed me, and I wanted to be the one he depended on. I didn’t want some floozy who would dote on him with the sole intention of sleeping with him once he was better. Yes, I was territorial.

I took a minute to look around the posh hotel suite. It was evident by the disarray of the room that the maid hadn’t been in. I had a feeling Milo had requested no maid service. That didn’t mean he didn’t need it, however. I quickly called down to the front desk and ordered clean towels. The bedding could wait until tomorrow.

Pushing up my sleeves, I headed for one of the bags I had brought along and pulled out my bleach and Lysol. He had cleaned my house; now I was going to clean his room. The best way to get rid of the virus was to clean it away. I didn’t want him to have a repeat bout of the sickness or end up infecting the whole team by being a carrier. My dad would kill me if he found out the team got taken down by my daughter. I hadn’t quite told him yet about Milo staying the night—twice.

I shook my head, looking at the suitcases open in the corner of the room. He hadn’t even bothered to use the dresser or closet. He was literally living out of a suitcase. He had secured his future with the team. I knew that, and he had to see it now too. It was time to unpack the damn suitcases, buy furniture and make a home for himself.

I grabbed my phone and did a quick Google search for available apartments. I bookmarked some I thought he would like and got back to wiping everything down and spraying the room with Lysol. The room smelled clean, but between the bleach and the Lysol, I was feeling a little lightheaded. The room was clean enough to perform surgery in I decided.

“Liza?” I heard him choke out from the other room.

“Coming,” I called, carrying my can of disinfectant to the room. “How are you doing? Do you want some water?”

“That stuff stinks,” he complained.

I laughed. “Yes, it does, but I don’t want to get sick, and I don’t want you to become a walking germ factory. I’m killing the germs.”

“And the ozone layer, along with all the living creatures who have to smell that nasty stuff,” he whined.

“You’ll live—I promise. I’ll go grab you some more Pedialyte.”

He groaned and shook his head. “That stuff is gross and it makes me puke.”

I rolled my eyes. He sounded just like Ainsley when she was sick. “It didn’t make you puke. The flu made you puke. Quit being a baby.”

I delivered the Pedialyte and he wrinkled his nose. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. When you can hold this down, we’ll graduate to Gatorade. So, while you were napping, I did a quick search for apartments in the area. Don’t you think it’s time you found something a little more permanent? A place where you can actually unpack your suitcase?”

“You looked for apartments for me?” he asked, with surprise.

“Do you plan on living in a hotel forever?”

“No.”

“Then, look,” I said, scooting onto the bed beside him. “Here are some nice apartments that I’m sure you can afford.”

I scrolled through the three listings I had bookmarked. He wasn’t saying anything.

“Don’t you like them?” I asked.

“I think you misunderstood,” he started.

“Oh,” I said, jumping off the bed. He obviously wasn’t planning on staying. He still had one foot out the door, even though everything with the team was going well.

“You know, Ainsley needs stability.”

“I know that, which is why I want a house instead of an apartment. Even if the worst happens and I’m cut from the team, I can still live here. If this all goes bad, I know my career as a quarterback in the NFL is over, and I’ll have to find a job. Miami is my home. This is where I’m staying, and now that I know about Ainsley, it is all the more reason to stick around.”

“Oh,” I said again, surprised to see he had actually thought it all through. “So, are you actively looking?”

He looked embarrassed. “No, not exactly, but I have thought about it.”

“Ah, I see. You know what the right thing to do is, but you haven’t quite worked up the courage to take the plunge,” I said, understanding a little more. “No time like the present.”

“I’ve been kind of busy,” he defended.

“You have people, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “I have a people, Stan, my agent.”

“Well, you need a real estate agent. You tell them what you want, and they’ll look for you. That’s their job,” I said as if I were talking to a child.

“I know that.”

“No more excuses. You need to get out of this hotel room.”

“I know, I know.”

“Where do you want to live? A house? Condo?”

He looked me directly in the eyes, and I could tell he was very serious. “I want a house on the beach. Not one of those big mega-mansions, just a house. I want privacy, but I don’t need a huge plot of land.”

I nodded my head. That sounded very sweet and romantic in a way. I liked that he was humble. So many of the guys I had met in the football world were so full of themselves it was amazing they managed to fit their egos in the same room together. Milo wasn’t like that at all. He had cleaned puke off my carpet. That was as humble as a man could get in my book.

“That sounds very nice, and I think you can definitely afford it. Let’s look,” I said, sitting back down beside him and pulling up listings. “It isn’t like you have anything else to do.”

He put his arm around me, and I snuggled against him as I browsed the listings. “How about this one?” I held up my phone for him to look at.

“No way!” he said loudly. “That is a monstrosity. It would take me ten minutes to walk to the kitchen. I want a bungalow or a cottage. Something cozy and homey.”

I looked at the listing. “It isn’t that big. It’s five-thousand square feet, which is kind of small when you think about the homes of other professional athletes.”

“I’m not like them. I’m making good money now, but it isn’t going to last forever. I don’t want to live in a huge house anyway,” he reiterated. “I want something that feels like a home. I’ve been to plenty of those big, fancy houses. They always feel cold, like people don’t actually live there.”

“Fine, let me see if I can limit the square-feet. Most people have a minimum, not a maximum,” I grumbled, taking the phone and fixing the search parameters.

I pulled up a couple of small homes. “How about these?”

He took the phone, studied the pictures and handed it back. “I need more land. I want beach and a yard. Am I being too picky?”

I laughed. “Maybe, but it’s your home, you’re supposed to be picky. Plus, I think the fact that you want a less home and more property is a good thing.”

“Can you hand me my phone?” he asked.

I reached over to the nightstand and gave it to him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m texting my agent. He can find me a real estate agent, and that agent can find me a house. Put your phone away.”

“What if I find something your future real estate agent doesn’t?”

“If that happens, then the real estate agent is fired. Put it away and snuggle with me. I need attention,” he playfully whined.

I laughed, “Obviously you are feeling better.”

“I am. I don’t feel like my stomach is going to jump out of my throat at any minute. The nap helped.”

“Good to hear. I need to check on Ainsley,” I said, sitting up.

His arm snaked around me, holding me close. “Don’t leave me.”

I laughed, “Relax, big boy.”

I walked out to the mini kitchen and grabbed him the Gatorade out of the fridge while I talked with Vanessa. She was happy to keep Ainsley a little longer.

“You were gone forever,” he pouted.

I giggled, “Gosh, you’re a bigger baby than Ainsley.”

He put out his bottom lip. “Come cuddle with me,” he said, putting out an arm and scooting over on the bed.

I kicked off my shoes and crawled in beside him. “You better not get me sick,” I warned.

“I’m sure it’s too late for that.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll lay here with you for a bit.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Want to watch TV or something?”

“Or something,” he whispered in my ear.

“You’re sick. No way!” I was only a little horrified.

“I’m teasing. Unless you wanted to take a shower with me? Wouldn’t that basically be germ-free? I won’t kiss you,” he said, clearly warming up to the idea.

“You need to rest,” I said, reaching for the remote and turning on the television.

I flipped through the channels. There was nothing on.

“Here, let me see it,” he grumbled, taking the remote from me.

“Do you really think it will be different when you flip through the channels?”

“Yep.”

He settled on a home improvement show. We watched and talked about what we liked and didn’t like. I knew he was watching to get ideas for the property he would eventually buy. It was cute. I could very much enjoy him shirtless with only a toolbelt and jeans on.

“What was that?” he asked.

“What?” I asked innocently.

“You shivered. I know you’re not cold. Were you thinking dirty? I know how you respond when you’re turned on. You sure you don’t want to take a shower?”

I blushed. The man knew me too well. “No,” I denied the accusation.

“Sure. It’s okay. I’ll be better soon and then whatever little fantasy just played out in your head can be brought to life. You name it, and I’ll do it,” he teased.

“You’re terrible. I have to get going, though. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I’m feeling a lot better. Thank you so much for taking care of me and hanging out. It gets kind of lonely here.”

“I’m sure it does. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“When can I see Ainsley?” he asked.

“Uh, when you’re not contagious. I don’t want her to be sick for Christmas.”

“Fine. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.”

I turned to look at him one last time. It was hard to leave, but I couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t like we had a long-term relationship. I shook my head and left the room. The man had a terrible way of getting under my skin. I really didn’t know him, but I felt like we’d been together forever in a way. Like a soul mate kind of thing.

I didn’t believe in that, though. At least I didn’t think I did.