“Holy shit, that was hilarious. That’s exactly how I’d act if I were to teach kids.” Lacey’s face lights up.

Tonight is going perfectly. I can’t honestly remember the last time I put this much effort into anything that didn’t have to do with football. But I knew if I wanted to impress her, I needed to give her a night she wouldn’t forget.

The cab pulls up in front of the restaurant I have reservations for. “I was told this place has the best sushi around.”

“Sounds perfect,” she says as we get out of the cab.

Once we’re at our table, I order a little of everything.

“Is it safe to say you eat sushi like you do pizza?”

“I could eat.”

“No wonder football players get paid so much. Half of your income goes to food.”

My mood starts to dip with her comment. She likes to remind the two of us that we come from different worlds as often as possible. I pause my thought as the waitress places the spread of food I ordered in front of us. Once we start eating, I decide to address her comment.

“Getting paid a lot is just a perk of my job. Don’t tell the owner this, but I’d play for a lot less.”

She arches an eyebrow like she doesn’t believe me.

“Are you saying if your firm suddenly wanted to pay you a million dollars per year to be on retainer, you’d turn that down?”

Lacey chews on her bottom lip but doesn’t answer.

“Don’t get me wrong, the money is nice. I paid off my mom’s house, bought her a new car, and paid for my sister’s tuition in full. None of those things would’ve been possible if I wasn’t making a healthy income, but I love what I do. The paycheck is just a nice bonus.”

“Are you worried that something could happen to you?”

“No,” I quickly answer.

“Chase got hurt. Jordan claims he’s actually retiring because of what happened to him.”

“Injuries happen all the time, but I’m not worried about it. I have a greater chance of being in a car accident or dying in a plane crash than getting hurt on the field. The media just enjoys making shit look worse than it really is.”

“So Chase was faking?”

I sigh. “No, but Chase’s situation is rare, not to mention, he was told he was taking a risk by playing. I found that out after the fact, but he never should have been on the field in the first place.”

She nods, almost like she doesn’t believe me.

“Playing ball feels like I’m honoring my dad or something. He loved football. He’d take me to the park down the street from our house almost every night to toss the ball around.” I shrug. “He used to tell me all the time that I had what it took to be a professional player.” Our eyes lock. “I guess I believed him.”

“That’s a beautiful story, Jake. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for your loss.”

My chest tightens. “It was actually my fault he died.”

Her eyes widen in shock. “What are you talking about?”

“My dad was a police officer and my mom is a nurse. She’d work the night shift a few days a week so they wouldn’t have to worry about who watched me. One night, I woke up horribly ill. I had gotten sick all over my Batman pajamas. My dad put me in a bath then sat with me until he finally carried me downstairs. My stomach still hurt. The only thing that sounded good was Sprite, but we didn’t have any. I was eight and there was a drug store a few blocks from our house so my dad decided to leave me home by myself long enough to get me that fucking pop.” When I glance at Lacey, I can see tears in her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “What happened to your dad?”

Anxiety forms in the pit of my stomach. My dad isn’t someone I talk about. I haven’t even told Chase what really happened, because this is a part of my life I keep to myself, but the desire to be honest with Lacey wins out.

“A man walked into the store and held the cashier at gunpoint. My father, being the hero he was, pulled his own gun, only he didn’t notice the second man in the store and was shot in the back.”

She gasps before placing her hand over her mouth, a lone tear falls down her cheek. “Jake, that wasn’t your fault. How in the world could you think that?”

“He never would’ve left the house if it weren’t for me.”

“You were just a kid. Any good parent would’ve done what your father did.”

As I silently hold her stare, shame settles in the pit of my stomach.

“You would’ve done the same thing, Jake. If your kid were sick, you’d run out the door like you had a football in your hand to get him or her whatever they needed.”

“How do you know what I would or wouldn’t do?”

“Because I’ve seen what a good person you are.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, completely unsure of how our night took a drastic turn.

“Jake, don’t live doubting yourself because of what happened that night.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” I ask, knowing I shouldn’t.

She abruptly looks away, her shoulders tense. Several long minutes pass before she finally looks at me again, and the magic we created earlier is long gone. “You were a sick eight-year-old boy. Nothing about our stories are the same.”

“Tell me then. Why are you living with doubt? Why are you so convinced a relationship won’t work?”

“Because I was a stupid teenage girl who didn’t listen to anyone when they told me I was throwing my life away for a boy who didn’t even want me. And I was…” She trails off while her eyes dance around the restaurant. When she looks at me again, I see her frustration.

“I was that girl. I had a dream. I had a plan, and I was willing to give all that up for a guy. For a guy who tricked me into believing we were actually something, when in reality, he was just using me.” She huffs. “Believe me, that was a hard-learned lesson I will never let happen again.”

“By not dating? By not giving a man who could actually treat you right a chance?” My voice hardens with the reminder that I’m paying the price for the fuckwad’s decisions.

“I did something stupid that cost me a lot more than just my dreams, and in turn, I live every day wondering what if, so yeah…I avoid men. I avoid the reminder of a life I was close to having.”

Anger, frustration, and even a little dose of fear starts to set in as I wonder—not for the first time—if I can get her to let go of the past and look toward something…with me.

The waitress unknowingly breaks the tension between us. “Can I get you anything else?”

Lacey smiles at her then looks at me.

“No, I think we’re ready for the check.”

Once the waitress walks away, Lacey gives me a grim look. “I’m sorry. Tonight, was going great, then it crashed and burned, and I feel like that’s my fault.”

“No, it’s fine.” My voice was curt, when I didn’t intend for it to be.

The smile she was forcing falls, and it makes me feel like an ass.

“I mean it,” I say softer. “Logically, I know you’re right. I was only eight. I shouldn’t blame myself for what happened, but I think you should really stop and ask yourself the same question. Whatever happened, whatever choice you say you made, you made as a teenager. I know I made some pretty crappy decisions when I was a kid. Maybe it’s finally time you laid your demons to rest.”

Lacey gives me a bleak look. “You might be right, but I don’t think I’m just going to wake up tomorrow and magically be a different person.” She glances at her watch. “I need to be up in about six hours for work.”

“Then let me get you home.”

After I pay the bill, we head outside where I flag down a cab, and before long, we’re back at Lacey’s. A part of me wants to go in, to wrap her up in my arms. To remind her that life is still worth living, but a doleful mood has set over the two of us, and I don’t want to give her another reason to push me away.

“I’d like to see you tomorrow. If that’s okay?”

“I have court tomorrow and my mood is really shot by the time I get home.”

I nod fighting the urge to get mad.

“But the day after next?” she murmurs. “You can come over then if you’d like.”

The disappointment I felt starts to dissipate. “I’ll be here. Send me a text and let me know when you’ll be home.” I lean down, ready to kiss her cheek goodbye, when I say fuck it and grip her chin, tilting her head back before I capture her lips with mine. She moans as I possessively thrust my tongue against hers. Need forms in my stomach as my cock becomes rock hard, but I ignore my desire and force myself to take a step back.

Lacey pants as her dark, lustful blue eyes lock on mine. “Do you want to come in?”

“Fuck yeah, I want to come in, but I’m not going to.”

Her smile dissolves.

“When I planned tonight, we were going to end the evening in your bed, where I was going to make love to you all night, but our evening took a small detour.”

She starts to open her mouth, but I hold my hand up, cutting her off.

“No, it’s okay. I’d like to know everything about you, but that’s not going to happen overnight. I also want you to know that a night with you doesn’t have to be about sex.” I reach up and softly brush the backs of my knuckles over her cheek. “You’re still waiting for me to go home, and I’m still waiting for you to open up.”

The anxiety I see looming in her eyes is reason enough for me to leave. She’s still looking for a reason to be done with me, and I’m still determined not to give her one.

“The day after tomorrow.” I wink. “I’ll feed you before I fuck you senseless,” I add as her eyes light up. I turn on my heel and walk away, knowing if I stay any longer, I’ll want to take her up on her offer of coming in.

Tonight may have ended with a different outcome than I had originally hoped for, but it also confirms what I already knew…that Lacey Davis is the woman I want.

I had set my alarm for seven in the morning so I could get in an early workout before the gym got busy. By the time I got home and showered, dread had settled in, knowing I’d have the rest of the day with nothing to do. Then I remembered that Lacey has court. I know she said she didn’t want to see me, that her mood is usually crappy, but I decided to forgo her warning and head down to the courthouse.

By the time I track down what courtroom Lacey is in, a case is already in session, and I was told I had to wait to enter. As luck would have it, my phone starts ringing. I smile when I see my agent’s name.

“Yo, Harvey, what’s up?”

“You’re going to the Super Bowl. I have box seats for you and a guest. Steel offered tickets to you and a few other contract players including Kruse.”

Fuck…if the owner wants me there, then they must be close to making a decision.

“I’m still in New York.”

“I don’t give a damn where you’re at, but a week from Sunday, you’ll have your ass in San Diego, where you’ll drink cheap beer and eat expensive food while you kiss Steel’s ass and show him how great you and Kruse get along.”

“I do get along with Kruse.”

“Girard, you’re one of the best tight ends in the league, there’s no disputing that, and now that they’ve lost Adams, you’re officially the heart and soul of their team. They don’t want to lose you, but that doesn’t mean they want to pay you what you’re worth, especially if it means they aren’t getting the quarterback they feel is best. You need to show up and more than get along with Kruse. Show Steel he’s making the right decision by keeping both of you.”

“I’m not Kruse’s agent and neither are you,” I growl. “If Steel doesn’t want to pay me what I’m worth, then fuck him.”

“You don’t mean that. You want to retire in Arizona, so fucking put on a goddamn smile and remind Steel exactly what he’ll be losing if you decide to take one of the ten other offers we have sitting on the table.”

Finishing my career in Arizona has always been my plan, but that was before my best friend unexpectedly retired. That was before I met Lacey Davis. Now, the only thing I know is I’m not ready to give up football, but that doesn’t necessarily mean my heart belongs to the same team that’s been my family for years.

“I’ll be at the fucking game, but don’t think for a second that means I’m going to eat shit. Steel either wants me or he doesn’t.”

“You’re absolutely correct. The man is an asshole who’s looking to save a dime. If you’re not dead set on staying with Arizona, then I’ll put out some real feelers and get you the money you’re worth.”

“It’s not even about the money,” I snarl.

“You’re thirty years old, Girard. This contract is most definitely about the money.”

I’ve played professional ball for eight years. No matter how in shape my body is, I’m on the downward slope of my career. Harvey has been on my ass for the last year and a half about doing whatever I could to ensure this contract—the one he claims will set me up for life—not that I don’t already have a shit ton of money.

“I’ll go. I’ll play nice, but maybe it’s time you showed me some of the other offers you claim to have.”

“Go to the game. If you still want to see what’s on the table afterward, then we’ll sit down and discuss them.” The fact that Harvey isn’t waving these other offers in my face, demanding I at least consider them, means they’re not that great.

“Tell them I’ll be there, but I’m bringing a guest, so make sure I have that other ticket.” The line goes quiet. “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah. Are you bringing your mom or a date?”

I’d like to do everything I can to convince Lacey to go with me. I’m sure she’ll say no, but it would be nice if I could share a part of my life with her.

“If all goes my way, I’ll have a date with me.”

I hear Harvey tsk. “Please tell me you’re not hooking up with some stripper you met while you’re visiting Adams?”

I bust out laughing. “Fuck no. I’m actually…seeing someone.”

“Good,” Harvey blurts. “Bring her, and lay it on thick. Show Steel you’re committed to someone. After thirty years of marriage, he tends to favor his married players, so this could work in our benefit.”

I ball my hand into a fist. “I’m not bringing her to make some fucking point.”

“Of course not, but at this point, it couldn’t hurt, right? Hey look, I’ve gotta go. We’ll talk soon.” Harvey disconnects the call before I can even say goodbye.

Jack Harvey is one of the best agents because of his cut-throat tactics—that’s the whole reason I hired him—but today, he took the relationship I’m attempting to build with Lacey and turned it into something else. Something I didn’t like.

I wasn’t lying when I told Lacey the money I make feels like a bonus, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to roll over and take it up the ass for a man who doesn’t value me.

I pocket my phone when I see the courtroom doors open. I start walking that direction when I spot him—Lacey’s ex, the same fuckwad from last weekend—walking out.

He places his cell phone next to his ear before he runs his other hand down his face. The urge to punch him is just as strong as it was the other day, but then I’m hit with the revelation that Lacey told me today was not a good day to see her, but he’s here. The man she claims to hate. The man she claims ruined her life.

Almost like he knows I’m staring at him, his head moves my direction seconds before his sight locks with mine. His eyes flash with recognition before he turns and quickly walks to the exit. After standing motionless for close to ten minutes, I decide to follow suit and return to Chase’s apartment without seeing the woman I came for.