My phone rings at exactly seven o’clock, which is when Jordan said he’d call—though he didn’t tell me it would be a FaceTime call. Thank goodness I still look decent and I already changed out of the work polo.

I hit answer and wait eagerly for his face to fill my screen.

My breath catches when he’s finally there, a little smile curling his lips when we make eye contact. “Hey,” he says in that easygoing way of his. Like it’s no big deal that we’re talking like this. That the last time I saw him, we made out and I ended up coming all over his jeans.

Seriously, I need to get over my embarrassment. We’re trying to make this work. I have every right to basically hump Jordan and have an orgasm.

“Hi,” I say, trying to keep it together. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he says, leaning back against a headboard. Guess he’s sprawled out on the bed in his hotel room. I wish I was with him. “Tired.”

“Time change messing you up?”

“Kind of.” He hides a yawn, and it hits me how much I miss him. Silly, considering how long we haven’t been in each other’s lives. I spend a few days with him, and now it isn’t enough. “How are you?”

“Good. It was a crazy day.” I already decided I won’t tell him about my earlier argument with Cade. No need to fire Jordan up over nothing.

“Listen, I’m going to cut right to the chase.” His expression is grim and worry makes my heart start pounding. “I don’t think you should come to Florida.”

“Oh.” My voice is small. My heart is sinking. “Okay.”

“Don’t get all butt hurt.” His voice is teasing, that smile coming back. “I have a better idea.”

Curiosity fills me. “What’s your better idea?”

“Do you have a passport?”

“Um, yeah. Got one two years ago when I went with friends to Mexico for a few days.”

“Perfect. That should work then.” He’s got this far away look on his face. Almost like he’s talking to himself.

“What should work?” I ask.

“I want you to come with me.” He pauses. “To England.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” he says with a nod.

England? Really? “When?”

“We’re playing an exhibition game in London at Wembley Stadium a week from this Sunday. What do you think?” He lifts his brows.

My mind is racing with the possibilities—and the obstacles. I wish I could just pick up on a whim and go wherever I want, whenever I want to, but I don’t have that luxury. “I-I don’t know if I could get the time off.”

“Don’t you get vacation time?”

“Well, yeah. I get one week a year.” As in, I have five paid days off. “But usually we have to request the time off at least a month in advance.”

“Think they could make an exception?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, chewing on my lower lip.

I go quiet for a moment, thinking of all the things I’d need to do before I leave—if I even can leave, when Jordan finally asks, “Do you want to go to London with me?”

He sounds so unsure, and that’s unusual for Jordan Tuttle. He was—and still is—the most confident person I’ve ever known. He just always makes everything he does look so damn easy.

Throw a touchdown and win the game? He can do that.

Pass that test with an A yet never bothered to study? He can do that too.

Pursue his dream career with pure determination and end up playing for the NFL like it’s no big deal? Yep, he sure did that.

He can do anything he sets his mind to.

“Yes,” I tell him with a faint smile. “Yes, I definitely want to go to London with you. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

His smile is one of pure relief. “We can make this work.”

“Easy for you to say.” I’m teasing, but then again, I’m not. It is easy for him to say. It’s not so easy when I’m living a normal life and can’t take off whenever I want.

If you would’ve stayed with Jordan through it all, maybe you’d be his wife. Maybe you’d be traveling everywhere with him right now.

I push that nagging voice to the corner of my brain.

“Just put in for some vacation time or whatever,” he says.

“It’s hard to do it so last minute, though. They’ll need to find someone to cover for me,” I explain.

“And that might be difficult?”

“Sometimes.” Truthfully? I don’t know. But I’ve seen management scramble when someone calls in sick before, especially when it’s for an unexpected and extended period of time.

“I really want you to go,” he says in that determined voice I instantly recognize. “We could stay for a few extra days. Explore the city.”

Hope fills me, along with a healthy dose of excitement. “That sounds amazing,” I say softly.

He brings his phone closer to his face, and it’s like a shock to my system. Will I ever get over how handsome he is? “I’ve never been to London before.”

“Me either.” I’ve never really traveled out of the U.S., minus my extended weekend trip to Mexico with some of my girlfriends. It was for a friend’s bachelorette trip. We all saved up, shared one hotel room at a resort, and had the time of our lives. I got a little wild and crazy and hooked up with an extremely drunk, extremely cute guy from South Carolina. I liked his drawl. He liked my ass. I’ve never had a one-night stand before until then. Once I returned home, I never spoke to him again. It was a match made in wild-weekend-in-Mexico heaven.

“We could stay in a swank hotel,” Jordan says, knocking me from my thoughts.

I almost laugh, keeping my gaze fixed on him. Why am I dwelling on some drunk guy from my past when I can focus on this very gorgeous, sweet man talking to me at this very moment? “Swank, huh?”

“We’re provided rooms during the trip, but I could find another hotel. Somewhere nicer.” His voice goes deeper. “More private.”

The look in his eyes says it all. He’s envisioning many hours in that hotel bed. With me.

So am I.

With him.

“I want to sightsee, not just spend the entire time in bed,” I tease, going for bold. It feels almost…weird to talk to Jordan this way, since that sort of thing used to embarrass me when I was a shy teen.

But now, screw it. I’m a grown woman. I’m not going to play coy.

He smirks. “We can sightsee and spend plenty of time in bed,” he reassures. “Trust me.”

His words take hold of my heart, squeezing it tight. I’m desperate to trust him. To trust in him.

To trust in us.