“Your career matters most,” she finally said, which gave me absolutely no insight to the inner workings of her mind. Or more importantly—her heart.
I wanted to tell her that my career didn’t matter—at least not as much as I’d thought it did. Football was still important to me, but she was the only thing that really mattered. Maybe I needed to do a better job of showing Staci that I cared more about her than what she could do for my image. Even if we’d never be anything more than friends.
And that started with ignoring the rumors and doing something for Staci and her family. “What does your mom like to do?”
“She spent the past few years consumed with appointments and treatments,” she said. “Before that, she worked at a bank.”
“But outside of work. What did she enjoy?”
“Dancing,” Staci said, and there was a wistful quality to her voice. It made me wonder if she was reliving a memory, and I could just imagine the dreamy expression on her face.
“Like participating or watching?” I asked, knowing they were two very different things.
“Either,” she said. “But I know she’s always dreamed of attending the ballet. She went once as a child and said it was one of her favorite memories.”
I finally understood what people meant when they said they’d had a lightbulb moment. Because I knew how to fix this.
“I have an idea,” I said.
“Okay,” she said, but I could sense a shift. Instead of despair, I heard hope. And that made my heart beat a little faster.
“I want to send you and your mom and your sisters to the ballet.”
“She would absolutely love that.” The words rushed out of her, but then there was a pause.
I frowned. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there.”
“Well—” she hesitated. “Not only is it way too generous, but it will only make the gold digger rumors worse.”
“Staci, if you haven’t realized it by now, I love spoiling you. And if it’s within my power to give you something that can make you—or someone you love—happy, then I’m absolutely going to do it.”
She was quiet, and I wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign. I really hated that we were having this conversation on the phone. I couldn’t see her; I couldn’t read her expressions.
“As to the gold digger rumors, I don’t really care what people think,” I said. “I only care what you think.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be fake dating me,” she blurted, quickly adding, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s been a long day.”
I certainly deserved it.
There was a knock at the door, and I glanced at the clock on my nightstand, only then realizing how late it had gotten. How was it already time for curfew check?
“Someone’s at my door.” I stood from the bed, not ready to say goodbye. “And I have to get to bed soon. We have an early morning. Are you going to be okay?”
“Oh gosh,” she said, brightening. “I’m so sorry, Brandon. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. Get to bed. Good luck. I’ll be watching.”
“You will?” I asked. Somehow just knowing that she’d be watching me on a television screen even from hundreds of miles away made my chest puff with pride.
I knew sports weren’t her thing, but she’d made an effort to understand the game. And she set aside time to watch me play.
“Of course. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t watch your game?” she teased.
“Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”
I opened the door and waved to the offensive coach standing just outside. He tapped on his tablet and then waved goodbye before heading down the hall.
“Okay. Well, sweet dreams,” she said. “And kick some Jacksonville booty tomorrow.”
I laughed. “Will do. Goodnight, Staci,” I said, knowing I needed to get off the phone before I stayed up all night talking to her.
As I laid in bed that night and stared at the hotel ceiling, I wasn’t thinking about the upcoming game or visualizing the plays. For the first time in years, the Eagles had a real chance at making the playoffs, of finally achieving my goal of winning the championship game. But all I could think about was Staci.
Chapter Fifteen
Staci
It had been a few days since the gold-digger article came out, and life had mostly returned to normal. Brandon was right—it was best to ignore it, even if it was difficult. But I’d endure such stories if it meant he got to keep his position on the team. If it meant I got to be with him.
I rolled my eyes at myself, realizing how pathetic I sounded. Why did I do this? Why did I fall for guys who were completely uninterested in anything more than friendship with me?
I was watching a movie with Amy when my phone buzzed from its position on the coffee table. Brandon’s image filled the screen, and I swiped it from the table before heading down the hall.
“Hey.” I ducked into the home gym, a smile on my face.
I’d grown used to talking to him at night, and I found I missed him when we didn’t. He wasn’t really my boyfriend, but he certainly acted like one. Or at least, what I’d always wanted in a boyfriend. He was considerate and attentive, and even though he didn’t have to check in, he did.
“Hey.” His voice was rich, and he sounded happy. “Did you have a good day?”
I sat against the wall, nodding before remembering he couldn’t see me. He’d become such a tangible presence in my life that I often forgot he wasn’t sitting right in front of me when we talked on the phone.
“Can’t complain. Work was busy, so that’s always nice.”
He chuckled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I like putting together swag bags and organizing things. I like being useful,” I said.
“What was the best swag bag item today?” he asked, knowing how much I enjoyed looking through the goodies. There had certainly been some crazy ones like a five-hundred dollar blow dryer and chocolate lip scrub made from Madagascar cocoa beans.
“Hmm,” I said, tapping my lips as I thought through the options. There had been a few interesting ones, but one really stood out to me. “Probably the reusable notebook that you microwave.”
He chuckled. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. It was so cool. Like a spy gadget from a movie or something.” I twisted my hair around my finger, wondering where he was and what he was doing. Wondering if he missed me as badly as I missed him.
“How does that even work?” He sounded skeptical that it actually would.
“I honestly have no idea.” I laughed. “But I read about it online during lunch. You use a specific type of pen that you can buy at any office supply store. Then you sync your pages to a device. When you’re ready to erase, stick it in the microwave with a cup of water and poof! When you remove it, the pages are blank again.”
“You’re kidding me. You’re totally making this up, right?”
I laughed again. “No. I swear. And guess how much they are,” I said, curious to hear his answer.
“Three hundred dollars.”
“Nope,” I said, my mouth popping the “p.” “Under thirty dollars.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, and I could sense his skepticism through the phone. “It’s a cool trick, if it works.”
“I might buy one for Ellie for her birthday. She loves writing, and I think she’d love the eco-friendly aspect of it.”
“Yeah, but is it really eco-friendly if you have to use a cup of water and the energy from the microwave to erase it every time?”
I frowned. “Don’t ruin this for me, Brandon.”
“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart,” he said, and I stilled at the term of endearment he sometimes used. I told myself not to read too much into it. “But most things aren’t as great as they seem.”
“Is that your dating tip for the day?” I teased.
The line was silent, and I wondered if he was still there. “You still there?” I finally asked.
“I�
�m still here. And yeah…I’d say that’s a good dating lesson.”
I pursed my lips. “Your dating lessons depress me.”
“I admire your optimism,” he said.
“Though you think I’m a naïve,” I shot back, feeling my skin grow warm.
“I never said that.”
He didn’t have to. Everything he told me about dating certainly made that point clear. I was young. Foolish. Naïve. And no one wanted to date me.
How had this conversation gone downhill so quickly?
Now it was my turn to be silent, and I could hear his deep sigh on the other end. I was almost ready to call it a night when he asked, “Do you have plans for New Year’s Eve?”
I leaned my head back against the wall, grateful he couldn’t see the tears brimming. “Nope,” was all I could manage to say.
In the past, New Year’s Eve had always been one of my favorite holidays. It was a chance for a fresh start. A chance to celebrate the past and look forward to the future. But this year it was different. This year it was a reminder that Daddy was in the past, and he’d be missing out on our future.
“Do you want to do something?” he asked.
I straightened, feeling butterflies dancing in my stomach. I hadn’t seen him all week, but it felt like forever. And I hoped that spending time with Brandon would take my mind off the crushing sense of loss I’d been suffering lately.
“I’d like that,” I said.
I knew he hadn’t meant anything by his earlier comments. My reaction was more a reflection of my own insecurity.
“One of my teammates is having a party. I was thinking we could go to dinner then swing by his house,” he said.
I deflated a little. Of course, he’d want to do something more public. There was no reason to spend time with me apart to showcase the fact that we were still dating. I’d tricked myself into thinking he wanted to spend time with me, and not because he had to if he wanted his contract renewed. I shouldn’t be disappointed; I’d known exactly what I was getting into when I’d agreed to this.
Well, maybe not exactly. But I’d sworn that I could do it without my feelings being involved. Mostly because I’d liked Will, past tense.
I wasn’t exactly sure when it had happened, but I was no longer crushing on Will. In fact, I was pretty sure I was falling for Brandon. This was bad. So so bad.
“Staci? You okay?”
“Of course,” I said, grateful he couldn’t see me.
“We don’t have to go to a party if you don’t want to.”
“I’m sure it will be fun.” I forced myself to sound excited. “Besides, it’s a good opportunity to be seen together. Right?”
“Right.”
“It’s settled then,” I said with more confidence than I felt.
A few nights later, I stared at the mirror on my vanity, but I just wasn’t feeling it. I set my brush aside and laid my head down on my arms.
“What’s wrong?” Ellie asked from across the room.
Charlotte had Face-Timed earlier in the day to wish us a Happy New Year, but also to tell us that she and Elijah were engaged. I was excited for her, but it was a painful reminder that my relationship with Brandon wasn’t real. Would never be real. And I’d spent the rest of the day dwelling on it.
How could I admit to Ellie that she’d been right? I no longer knew what was real or fake when it came to Brandon. All I knew was that I wanted it to be real. I wanted to stop pretending we were nothing more than friends, when my heart knew the truth. She’d say I told you so.
I lifted my head. “Nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing. New Year’s Eve had always been spent at home. The five of us would listen to parents’ record collection and dance around the living room. We’d cook a nice meal and eat chocolate at midnight. It was nothing fancy, but it was always special.
As much as I’d tried to remain upbeat for Mama, Ellie, and Amy, it was hitting me hard. Grief was funny like that. One moment you were fine, and the next you were bawling your eyes out because something reminded you of the person you loved. And you never knew what would trigger it.
Last time, it had been a display of baked beans. They’d collapsed at the grocery store, reminding me of that awful day. This time, it was hearing an old song Daddy used to love. I didn’t know how I could make it through the evening without falling apart, but I had to try.
When the doorbell rang, I jolted upright. I glanced at the time on my phone, only then realizing how late it had gotten. I tilted my head back, willing myself not to cry while Ellie went to answer the door.
I pushed back my shoulders, descending the stairs to meet Brandon. I’d brushed my curls so they sat in long, loose waves over my back. I’d taken care to apply a light layer of mascara and lip gloss as Charlotte had shown me. And my dress was a beautiful but tasteful, the gold sequins fluttering with every step.
Brandon took one look at me and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, grateful that Ellie had already disappeared. I knew if I talked about it, I’d cry. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
He stepped closer, and I sucked in a breath at his proximity. “We’re not going anywhere until you tell me who or what upset you.”
I considered lying, but I couldn’t do that. Not to Brandon. I told him everything, and I knew he’d be able to see right through me. He had this uncanny ability to read me.
“I’m just…” I let out a shuddering breath. “I really miss my dad. That’s all.”
I bit my lip, and my eyes stung. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t…
I burst into tears, and he closed the remaining distance between us, gathering me into his arms. He folded himself around me, encasing me with warmth and security. Brandon’s hugs were literally the best, and I’d decided they were his super power. Not his speed—which was impressive. Nor his strength. But his hugs.
We stood there for a long moment, and I fisted my hands in his shirt, crying harder than I had in all the months since Daddy died. It was like everything hit me at once—my sadness compounded by the fact that he’d missed this Christmas and New Year’s. But that he’d miss every future one as well. Not to mention, my wedding, meeting my husband, my children. Who would walk me down the aisle? Who would give me away?
Brandon just held me, rubbing circles on my back as he whispered soothing words. The sound of his voice, and the beat of his heart calmed me. Until finally, my sobs dissolved into hiccups.
“Thank you,” I said into his chest.
When I finally released my grip on him and put some space between us, I was horrified at the state of his button-down shirt.
“Oh my gosh. I’m so, so sorry.” I patted at the giant wet patch as if that would make it go away.
“Staci,” he said, taking my hands in his, stilling my movements. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m sure I look a mess,” I said, covering my face with both hands when I remembered that I’d put on mascara.
He gently pried them away, using his thumbs to dry my tears. Now that I was standing this close to him, I could see that his eyes were actually a bluish gray instead of just gray. I’d never noticed that before. Actually, there were a lot of things I hadn’t noticed before. Like the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck or the long, dark lashes that framed his eyes.
He tilted my face up to his, looking me directly in the eyes. “You look beautiful.”
I sniffled. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”
He crouched down to my level so he was staring me in the eye. “I think you know me well enough by now to know that I don’t say things just to be nice.”
I laughed at that, but it came out as more of a snort. My cheeks flamed with heat. “That’s true.”
“I can also tell you that even though we’re lying to the world, I’d never lie to you.” His voice, his eyes, conveyed nothing but sincerity.
He shook his head, taking a step back. I felt the loss immediately. I was tempted to step clos
er, to seek the shelter of his arms again, but I wouldn’t. It would only lead to more heartbreak when this inevitably ended.
“All right,” he said, clapping his hands together and startling me. “New plan. We’re not going to the party.”
“We’re not?”
“We’re going to my house,” he said.
“Your house?” I gulped.
He’d never invited me to his home, not apart from that initial meeting when I’d declined. Could I trust myself to be alone with him?
“If that’s okay with you,” he said. “I promise not to have you home too late. Okay?”
I nodded, curious about this sudden change of plans. Though I felt guilty for keeping him from the party. I knew he didn’t typically enjoy parties, but I didn’t want him to feel like he was missing out. Or worse still, like we weren’t doing enough to ensure his contract was renewed.
“If you want to go to the party, we can go,” I said, though my heart wasn’t in it. A second thought occurred to me. “Or you can go without me, if you’d prefer.”
“Now where would be the fun in that?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Besides, then everyone would be speculating that we broke up. No.” He shook his head. “I’m not going without you.”
“Oh.” I glanced toward the floor, struggling to keep my emotions in check.
Did he ever do anything with me because he wanted to? I’d thought that’s what tonight was, but now I was beginning to wonder. That said, he didn’t have to take me back to his house to keep up appearances.
“Staci,” he paused, waiting until I met his eyes. “Will you be my date for New Year’s Eve? Even if it means staying in?”
I smiled, and it was genuine. “There’s nothing I’d enjoy more.”
He smiled, a full smile. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him so happy. Was that because of me?
“Do you want to change first?” he asked.
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