“You can’t see, can you?”

Maia shook her head. “Nope. It’s dark as a curtain drop.” A light breeze brushed her face, which she determined must be London’s hand waving in front of her eyes.

She laughed and swatted at the air, not making contact with anything. Riding in the car with London was fun. He asked about her leg, and she told him what the doctors had said. The hospital staff had signed confidentiality statements, but somehow the information leaked out. It could have been anyone: another patient, someone who saw her in the hallway … the possibilities were endless. There was no point stressing over it too much, so she pushed it aside. All she could deal with was what happened next. Thankfully, what happened next was a date with London.

He’d pulled off the freeway and asked if he could surprise her. She let him tie a handkerchief loosely over her eyes. They’d driven a little longer, and then he’d parked and picked her up again. Now, she was sitting on something soft with the sun beating down on her wig, making her scalp sweat.

“Okay. I think I’m ready.” London put his arms around her to untie the knot. Maia held still, taking deep breaths of his ruggedly handsome scent. She could fall asleep curled up next to that scent every night, it was equal parts soothing and intoxicating.

The blindfold fell away and she blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight. They were on a blanket on the fifty-yard line in the middle of the deserted Titans stadium. “What …?” she laughed. “Only you would think a football field is date-worthy.”

London’s mouth fell open. “I’ll have you know this is top-notch romance.”

She smiled as she shook her head.

He reached behind her and brought out a picnic basket.

She lifted an eyebrow in appreciation, but didn’t give in quite yet. “A picnic? That’s sweet.”

He held up a finger. “Not any picnic.” With a flourish, he opened the basket, revealing takeout bags from Los Tios.

Her hands flew to her cheeks. “You remembered.”

He chuckled. “How could I forget? I loved taking you to that restaurant. You made all those yummy noises when you ate.” His eyes grew mischievous and butterflies made their way around her stomach.

“I forgot. Oh my gosh, I’m so embarrassed.” She covered her eyes with her hand.

He laughed. “It gets better.” He sent a quick text on his phone and the speakers came alive with Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect.”

She closed her eyes and let Ed’s honeyed voice melt over her. “Okay, that was pretty great.”

“And …” He settled next to her so she could rest against his chest. “This is not just anywhere in the stadium. This is the fifty-yard line.”

“Okay.”

“I know I talked about us starting a second half, but the more I thought about it, the more I decided a second half wasn’t what I wanted.”

The butterflies stalled. A few of them crashed into the floor of her belly. “You don’t?”

“No.” He took her hand. “I don’t want to pick up where we left off. I want to begin again. I want to meet you where you are now, and I hope you’ll meet me where I am.”

“London Wilder, that was just about the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She placed her hand on his cheek, the warmth of his skin seeping into her and spreading up her arm and to her heart.

“I told you I could be romantic.”

He was right. He wasn’t the same guy she’d crushed on in high school. In a way, she had to let the old London go in order to grab on to this one. If the hope and the attraction and the care she saw swirling in his molasses eyes was any indication of what was to come, then she could take that leap.

She put out her hand. “Hello, famous football player London Wilder. I’m Maia.”

His grin stretched from end zone to end zone. “Hello, Princess Maia. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Instead of shaking her hand, he turned it to the side and pressed his lips to the back.

She giggled. “I’m not a princess; I only play one in the movies.”

He chuckled, the sound humming through his chest and into her back where she leaned against him, filling her chest up with his happy sounds. “You were meant to be a princess, honey.” He pressed a kiss to her head and came away with his nose wrinkled. “Is there anything we can do about that?” He tugged lightly on her bright pink, chin-length hair.

She reached back, removing pins. “I have to warn you, I have a massive case of hat hair underneath.”

“I think I can take it.” He busied himself getting the food out of the basket and finding the plastic utensils.

She lifted one shoulder. When the pins were out, she pulled off the wig and then the wig cap. Her hair was braided tightly against her scalp, and she freed herself of the bands and braids. Finally, she was able to shake her kinky hair out and sigh with pleasure.

London echoed her sigh. “It’s not fair for you to have all that going on, you know.”

“Says the man with the giant muscles.” She trailed her hand up his arm, loving the smooth bumps and valleys. He handed her a takeout container filled with chicken enchiladas, a side of rice and beans, and a small cup of pico. She inhaled the aroma and settled more comfortably on the blanket. Her leg throbbed when she woke up this morning, but she’d been fanatic about alternating Tylenol and Advil, and the pain was down to a manageable growl.

“Tell me about your team.” She managed a large bite and moaned.

London brushed a finger fondly down her cheek. He leaned back on one arm and glanced around the stadium. “What do you want to know?”

Maia thought for a moment. If she were meeting London for the first time, she’d want to know everything. She’d gobble up the tiniest bits of information as if they were sweet raspberries. As many daydreams as she’d entertained over the years, having him right here where she could reach out and touch him was so much better.

Unlike a daydream that had to end, the time with London could go on and on if they wanted it to—if she could let it and if he would open up to her. He wasn’t hiding anything today; his eyes were an open door into his heart. She briefly wondered what would happen if she tiptoed close to forbidden territory—the place he’d always kept her out of.

With the sunlight and the deep green grass and the music playing like a sweet serenade, she didn’t want to think about the dark place she’d seen in his eyes at prom. “Tell me about Knox—is he always so grumpy?”

London tipped his head back and closed his eyes. “That’s an interesting story.”

* * *

“Well.” Maia shifted as London set her down at the door to her bungalow. Her stitches were starting to burn. She needed to move inside and elevate her leg—or collapse into bed and sleep for twelve hours. Normally she had the energy of a bunny on Dr. Pepper, but her body was pooling resources into healing.

Instead of putting the wig back on, she’d tucked her hair up into his baseball hat. It was after dark. The sound of the crowd drifted over the tops of the buildings. By the sound of things, there were now a couple thousand people out there. “I had a pretty great time.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” London rolled his eyes.

“Did I? I didn’t mean to.” She laughed as she shoved his shoulder. “Don’t be so sensitive.”

He swept her up into a hug. “I had a pretty great time too. You wanna do this again?”

“Do you picnic in the stadium every day?”

“Naw, today was a once-in-the-off-season opportunity. I may have to volunteer with the custodial crew to pay back the favor.”

“You’d look cute pushing a broom around. You wanna come inside and clean the kitchen?”

He pulled back so he could look in her face. “Are you inviting me in?” His eyes grew heavy with suggestion.

A slow burn started in her lower belly. “I—I—”

His composure cracked and he smirked. “I’m kidding. I’m not that kind of a guy. Really, you think I put out on the first date?” He pushed her shoulder playfully.

“Do you … put out?” she asked. Throughout the afternoon she’d learned quite a bit about him, some of it surprising. She hadn’t thought he was the type of guy to seduce women—he always seemed to take their kisses seriously, like they meant something much more than a cheap thrill. Like she was worth more than her kisses.

His smirk melted away, replaced by a look of thoughtful sincerity.

She looked down, unable to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry. That was too personal for a first date.”

His large hands settled on her waist. “No, honey. I do not put out.”

She slowly lifted her eyes to meet his.

His eyebrows lowered. “And put out is a bristly phrase coming out of your perfect mouth.” He traced his thumb over her upper lip, sending a shiver up her spine. “Please, don’t feel like you can’t ask me a question. I will always tell you the truth.”

A shadow crossed his eyes, one she’d seen long ago. A shadow that hinted at a darkness inside London she could never touch. It was gone as quickly as it came, making her doubt if she’d seen it in the first place or if her memory had put it there.

Choosing to go with the whole first date/getting reacquainted theme for the night, she pushed her worries aside and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. “Good night, London.”

He held her to his ever-loving, perfectly shaped chest. She loved the hardness of his body and the way it contrasted with the softness of his heart.

“Good night.” He kissed her cheek.

She hobbled through the door and turned so she could smile and wave at him before shutting it all the way.

“Did you have fun?” asked April. She hopped off the couch and followed Maia into her bedroom, pulling the comforter down. The kind gesture wasn’t lost on Maia. April took on tasks above and beyond her written job description because she was a nurturer. She would have made a fantastic pediatric nurse.

Maia stared at her shoes, reliving the feel of London behind her, strong and solid. “I did.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

Maia sat on the bed and hugged a pillow to her middle. “Of course.” They were starting anew, beginning again, testing uncharted waters—together.

April pushed her glasses up her nose. “Well, I’m not sure when that’s going to happen—unless he plans to tag along with us tomorrow.” She picked up the other pillow and began to fluff.

Speaking of uncharted waters, Maia hadn’t had a serious relationship while dubbing the film. In truth, she hadn’t had much of any kind of relationship before then either. Between filming and the premiere, she’d gone out with a couple guys, mostly Hollywood types with high-profile names. They were good guys. Most of them were regular people looking for a match. Maia hadn’t been into any of them enough to be their headlining woman. If she’d learned anything, it was that two high-profile people dating are to the media like honey to a bear. And like a bear, reporters would tear her apart if they got wind of drama.

“He won’t be tagging along.” She smoothed the pillowcase with flat hands. “We’ll work something out, I’m sure.”

“Okay. I’ll just wait to hear.”

“What did you do tonight?” Maia asked.

“I binge-watched Stranger Things.”

Maia covered her ears. “No spoilers.”

“On my honor.” April laughed as she held her hand up in a scout’s salute. Her laughter died off slowly. “Aaron called.”

A sense of urgency entered the otherwise peaceful room with its white comforter and softwood flooring. Aaron was her liaison with the studio. He was, in a word, uptight. “What did he want?”

“To talk to you, of course. I told him you were recuperating.”

Maia bit back a curse. She ran her fingers over the bandage on her thigh. She should have been recuperating. Instead, she was out chasing a childish crush on the football field. When would she ever learn? She touched her lips; London loved to brush his thumb over them, and she loved the feel of his finger on her lips. As long as his touch lit a fire inside of her, she’d be subject to his charm. “Thanks. I should be ready to go tomorrow.”

“I’ve already booked a horribly early flight for all of us.” April paused. “You’re supposed to dance onstage with Franz in two days.”

She chewed her thumbnail. “That’s not going to happen. I can’t pop these stitches. The plastic surgeon will kill me.”

“Not to mention the studio. You weren’t supposed to put yourself in danger.”

She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t like I meant to run into a jagged piece of wood.”

“You meant to go to a crime scene.”

“When you put it that way, it sounds horrible. Let’s work on your version of the truth before Aaron calls back.”

It was April’s turn to roll her eyes. “There are financial penalties to breaking your contract.”

“I’m not worried about the money.”

“How about your career? You worried about that? Hmm?”

Maia knew all the clauses in her contract, both the written and unwritten ones. If she played by the rules, other parts would come her way. If she was hard to work with or earned a reputation as a party girl, she’d be dropped. “I am. Today was a one-time opportunity to play hooky.”

April studied her for a moment before she headed for the door. “For what it’s worth, I’d play hooky for a guy who looked like that, too.” She shut the door behind her, and Maia was left alone with her thoughts.

As great as London’s physique was—and it was great, like, really great—his body wasn’t the thing she liked the most. She liked that he’d thought through their date, given meaning to their time together, tried and succeeded at being romantic. There was no way he could have known Ed Sheeran was on her playlist, and yet he’d chosen that music for her. And then there was the whole symbolism of the fifty-yard line. He’d gone deep for the meaning behind their picnic and come up a winner in her book. She dropped into the fluffy pillows, too overcome with the giddiness inside to keep herself up.

After replaying the whole day—twice—she allowed herself to think of the next step. The problem they were going to face would be falling too fast into a relationship. Parts of London were as familiar as the lines on her palm; others waited to be discovered. They needed to take their time and go slow.

Her phone buzzed a text. She dove to retrieve it from her purse, biting her lips at the sting in her thigh. She rolled over with a groan, holding the screen above her face.

Is it too soon to text? I thought it probably was, but I’m home and I brushed my teeth and I was shutting off the lights and thought maybe you’d be up.

She giggled. I’m up.

Whew. What are you doing tomorrow?

Traveling. She added a frowny face emoji.

Harsh.

You know it.

When are you coming back?

She pulled a pillow under her head. I’ll have to ask April.

I’ll ask her.

Maia’s eyebrows about jumped off her forehead. She rolled to the side, looking for the bottle of Advil on the nightstand. Keeping on top of the pain was so much easier than catching up to it. She swallowed two pills, dry, and her phone buzzed.

Groan. It will be forever.

Sorry! I don’t set the schedule. She worked to access the bandage. She was supposed to change the dressing tonight before she went to bed.

I get that—Titans rule my calendar during the season.

An ice cube of worry worked its way down her back. Their lives were so full. By the time she was done with the majority of her promotional tour, he’d be playing ball. Hypothetically, she could follow him from game to game or meet him in Texas when he was home. Her limbs grew heavy with the weight of it all. She rubbed her eyes. Things would look easier in the morning. She was tired and sore and needed sleep.

Her phone chirped and Aaron’s face appeared. Fighting the panic that now had her wide awake, she typed: Boss man is calling. Gotta go, before clicking over. “Aaron! It’s good to hear from you.” She forced her voice into controlled cheerfulness. She was supposed to be sick, so too much enthusiasm would be a signal something was off.

“You too, Maia. I was beginning to worry when your assistant insisted you were napping into the evening.”

Aaron could have been the voice for Darth Vader, minus the creepy breathing. That would have made talking on the phone with him way weird. “No need to worry. My throat is already feeling great.”

“I’m glad. You don’t sound sick.”

“Nope. I’ve hardly said a word to my staff all day.” She prayed that a grammatically correct statement would pass at the Pearly Gates.

“Good. Save your voice.”

“I plan on it.” She stared down at the white bandage, so bright against her dark skin. “Thanks for being so understanding about this little layover.” And not sending someone to check on me.

“We don’t want you to get sick, Maia. You’re important to us.”

“Thank you. I feel the same way about the studio. The movie was a huge opportunity I don’t take lightly.” She pulled back the bandage, cringing as it tugged at her skin. What she found was a tangle of black thread and skin covered in a thin layer of shiny glue. The doc swore his strange configuration would minimize scarring. She hoped it would hold out.

“I know you don’t. If you’re ready, we’ll be on a plane tomorrow morning.”

“I think April has already made flight arrangements.”

“I’ll have my assistant call her and get the specifics. That won’t give you much time. Chicago is a matinée.”

“I don’t need a lot of prep time—it should be fine.”

“If you’re sure …”

“I’m sure. And I’ll make sure April texts you updates.”

The tension seeping through the phone line like the smell from a backed-up drain disappeared. Aaron’s voice lightened as much as Darth Vader’s could. “I’ll keep an eye out for them.”

“Great. Thanks for checking up on me. I’ll talk to you later.” They said a quick goodbye and Maia tossed her phone to the side, ticked. Not so much at Aaron, although he was pushy and insistent, and she didn’t buy his claim to have worried about her as much as he worried about Princess Fenella. No, she was more ticked at herself for signing a binding contract that took her away from London right when she’d found him again.

She sighed. Maybe it was for the best. She could use some help taking things slowly with him—he was too darn irresistible for her own good.