CHAPTER 1
Week 0 – Preseason, Sunday, August 31
“I am going to die here.”
Lara’s green eyes were wide as she glanced around her. The wind tunneled through the buildings, blowing her thick hair in all kinds of attractive directions. Yet she didn’t brush the tangles away because she’d refused to let go of my arm since exiting the cab five minutes ago.
I used my free hand to tame my blonde hair, wishing I had a hair tie to pull it back, but Lara had borrowed my backup tie during our six-hour flight and had lost it long ago.
“You’re not going to die. What happened to your big-city-living speech you forced me to listen to six times last week?”
“Out the window,” Lara said as a man of questionable age and outfit stumbled into the alleyway and yakked up his breakfast. From the smell of him, he’d gulped that breakfast down with a few whiskeys.
“I’ve decided my big-city moment was when we moved from Arizona to L.A. Let’s go home. Let’s just go back to Arizona and hide under a rock.”
I laughed, stepping into the road when the light changed and dragging her with me. Our new home was across the street and I was confident Lara could make it that far.
“We ran from Arizona, remember? We couldn’t get to USC fast enough,” I said.
“I can’t get back to USC fast enough. I need to find a space-time continuum so I can relive the irresponsibility of college life,” Lara said, still watching the man as he leaned against the brick wall and continued to retch. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for New York City living if this is what we see in the good parts of town. Where are we? Park Avenue? Park Avenue with drunks? Where are the ritzy ladies with tiny poodles?”
“I think it’s King Charles Spaniels these days,” I said as we walked up to the apartment entrance.
A doorman appeared out of nowhere, and I jumped back. More than a little embarrassed, I smiled shyly as he pulled the door open and bowed his head in greeting. “Good morning, ladies.”
“Hi,” I said, soaking in his uniform, his official hat, and his general fanciness.
Even Lara was intrigued enough to stop ogling the drunk and appraise the guy.
We walked into a spacious lobby. It had gold-trimmed walls, and light classical music was playing from somewhere hidden. It was cavernous, with marble and dark wood and felt almost like a hotel. The stonework seemed to send the iciness of the air conditioning swirling, and I shivered.
“Okay, I’ll amend my previous statement. I can definitely do inside city living.”
Finally, Lara let go of my arm, her attention everywhere—from the velvet lounges to the large-tiled floors to another fancy-uniformed person behind the front desk.
I walked over and placed my forearms on the desk, the chill of the marble dropping my body temperature even further.
“Can I help you, miss?”
“Yes, we’re moving into 10A.”
It was as I expected. The man’s brows lifted. “With Mr. Jason Sladerman?”
I gave a wry smile. “The one and only.”
“I don’t believe he’s here. I mean he lives here, but he’s not here here.” The man flipped through papers before clacking on the keyboard beside him.
“Oh, we know,” Lara said from behind me. “We’re trying to surprise him. Well not me, really. This girl.” She smiled mockingly, but there was amusement behind it. “The one and only Charlotte Miller, Slade’s girlfriend.”
“I see. Yes. He did say to expect you, but not until next week.”
“Hence the surprise,” Lara said, raising an ebony eyebrow at him.
“Right. Okay, um, let me see if Mr. Sladerman left a spare key for you here, or if the Superintendent is available…” He typed furiously on his keyboard.
My smile went stiff. Was it really this simple to get into Slade’s apartment? What if I was a nut? Or an ax murderer? Or one of the many screwy-faced women who tried to get into his pants?
I lifted my keys out of my purse. “Not necessary. I have keys with me.”
“Ah. Well then, ID please?”
Okay, so not so easy. But still kind of effortless. I handed my license over, but not without thinking I’d have to talk to Slade about the security. The idea of having someone no older than I was as the only thing between us and the cuckoos made me a tad uncomfortable.
After checking my and Lara’s IDs, he said, “Okay, Miss Miller, Miss Stalquist, it’ll be a pleasure having you on board with us. Just take the elevators on your left.”
“On board?” Lara murmured as we walked through the lobby. “What are we, on a flight deck?”
“He’s nervous.”
“Slade hasn’t even started playing yet, and he’s already got people stroking out over you guys.”
I shrugged, a renewed smile on my lips. “He comes with high hopes.”
We’d had most of our belongings shipped, so Lara and I had only our totes to struggle with when we stepped out of the elevator. We were one of two units on the floor, but of course Lara and I went the wrong way first. I made a U-turn and unlocked the door on the left.
“Holy shit,” Lara said as she walked inside. “Holy shit.”
She turned to look at me. “Are you sure this is a rental?”
“He had a good signing bonus,” I said calmly as I shut the door. But inside, my stomach was a liquefied mess.
This was my new home.
Granted, Slade’s lack of decorating skills was showing, what with the sparse furniture and standard white walls that surrounded Lara and me as we stood in the open living room. But as I traced the edges of the wide marble fireplace and turned to see the kitchen, which had more stainless steel than a factory, it was clear Slade knew what he was doing when he decided this was the one.
He’d even offered to find a place with an extra bedroom for Lara once I told him she also wanted to experience New York. Not only did he understand how expensive this city was when first starting out, he also recognized we came generally as a pair and I couldn’t experience this without her.
I didn’t want to leave her behind when Slade said he’d been drafted. We’d grown up together. Both from broken homes, using each other to become the people we now were. To abandon her would be like amputating a limb.
It was one of the many reasons why I loved him. Because he just knew.
“Where is he, anyway?” Lara dropped her tote on the L-shaped leather couch before splaying out beside it. “Oooh. Cushy.”
I went in search of a glass as I replied, “Preseason’s almost over. His first actual game is next week.”
“You know, I never took you for a football wife. I didn’t even think you understood the rules.”
After the fourth cabinet, I found what I was looking for. I went to the sink and filled the glasses. “I still don’t!”
“Such complicated shit just to throw around pork jerky.”
I laughed. “Don’t say that in public.” I moved out of the kitchen and handed her a glass.
Lara accepted the drink but held it in front of her in disgust. “Oh hell no.”
I sat down beside her. “What? New York has one of the best water filtration systems in the nation. It’s fine.”
“Not that, Brain,” she said. Instead of elaborating, she reached into her tote and pulled out a bottle of wine and set it on the coffee table. Rifling through again, she also unveiled a bottle of champagne.
“Ah. Batty strikes again,” I said.
“Bet your ass she does. Really? You thought I was going to cab through this city and not buy all the wine these skinny arms could carry?”
“So when you demanded we stop for the restroom, you managed to find alcohol and have been carting those in your bag the whole time since?”
She flexed her biceps. “How else do you think I get these guns?”
“By taking shots?”
“Those, too. Chug that water, missy.” She unwrapped the champagne cork, wiggling it until it came out with
a satisfying pop and smacked into the fireplace before ricocheting off the marble mantel. We both screeched and ducked as it whizzed in between us. I swear, with all the bubbly we’d been popping since Slade was drafted and the ridiculous aim Lara possessed, it was inevitable I would get a cork to the face one of these days.
“Screw the glasses,” Lara said before she took a swig and laughed. She held the green bottle in my direction. “To your new life.”
I took it from her with the grace of a regal queen, stood, and curtseyed before I lifted the bottle to my lips.
Lara clapped. “Chug! Chug! Chug!”
Fizz streamed down my chin and I let out a loud belch. Mortified, I covered my mouth with my free hand, letting out a sound that was both a snort and a giggle.
Lara found this hysterical and bent over, her face red with laughter.
“And there she is. My beautiful love has returned to me.”
Both of us went silent. The champagne dangled at my side as I turned.
Lara let out a weak, “Surpriiiise,” before succumbing to laughter again.
Slade barely had time to drop his duffel bag before I was in his arms with my legs wrapped around his torso as I smeared wet kisses all over his face.
“God, Charlie, I missed you,” he said when I came up for air. He bent down, taking me with him as he put us into an odd sort of dance dip, covered my mouth, and kissed me hard.
He let go of me with one hand, pretending to drop me and making me squeal before he righted us. He kept us connected with one hand around my waist as I slid my legs down and stood beside him.
“Surprise!” Lara said with much more oomph this time.
“C’mere, you spaz,” he said to Lara, holding one arm open, and she sauntered over to him and gave him a quick hug and peck on the cheek.
“Your beautiful love over here couldn’t wait one second longer, so we boarded the first plane we could,” Lara said as she headed back to the coffee table and grabbed the now half-full bottle of champagne.
Slade squeezed me tighter, his impossibly blue eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiled down at me. “I missed that face of yours,” he said.
His presence so floored me I blubbered my response with a smile and a gurgle. I had my Slade back. I hadn’t realized how much it was hurting me to be away from him until he’d filled that empty space beside me.
I stared at him awhile longer. I hadn’t seen him in a month, save for short stints when I went to visit him during a preseason game. With his training obligations and my packing up and sorting through our California life before leaving for New York, it had felt like a decade since I’d last seen him, and it was as if I was searching for changes. Did he stand differently? Would his sideways grin adjust to his new status? And then there was my most hated worry, the one that haunted me only at night just before my thoughts wandered into dreams. Would he forget me?
His sandy blond hair was unkempt as always, lightly sticking to his temples because of a recent shower. His face was scruffy, a day-old shadow on his jaw, and my lips still tingled from his scratchy cheeks. His skin was more golden, probably tanned from spending so many days out training on the field. His back muscles tensed and flexed underneath my hand, the lithe body of a newly professional athlete moving underneath me.
My anxious silence didn’t go on for long, because Lara could always be relied upon to fill it. “I’m sure you missed more than that. Can you even have chocolate?” Lara raised the champagne bottle. “Booze?”
He shook his head, giving me one last squeeze before trailing his hand down my arm. Taking my hand, he led us to the couch. “Nada.”
“He’s QB-one now,” I said, finally finding my voice. And it was proud. “He’s serious business these days.”
“I didn’t even know there was more than one quarterback,” Lara said, shrugging and plopping down next to us.
Slade laughed, both forlorn and amused. “Oh, you have so much to learn.”
“Despair not, old pal. I’m currently in the midst of compiling my fantasy team.”
Slade held a hand to his heart. “Don’t tease me so.”
“Drafting your fantasy team, Lar,” I said, tucking my head under Slade’s chin. “It’s ‘drafting.’”
“Exactly,” Lara said before lifting her feet onto the coffee table and crossing them. Her heels were black spears reflected in the glass. “And oh, the fantasy of it all.”
She took another swig before passing it to me. “Let’s celebrate for him.” She gave me a knowing smile before saying, “You’re so Brainy, dude.”
I lifted my head from Slade’s chest and took the bottle from her and swigged. Slade’s chest rumbled with amusement. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and handed the bottle back to Lara. “And you’re always Batty, darling.”
“You know, I'd love my kid nickname all the better if you didn’t derive it from the term ‘batshit crazy.’ Even at ten you were a brainiac bitch,” she said.
I meant to give her a playful shove, but she moved back and I hit her hand holding the bottle. It fell with a flinch-worthy crack and shattered against the floor.
“Sorry!” I said and jumped up to retrieve a broom, even though I had no idea where said broom would be.
I looked at Slade.
He responded with a dubious, “Ah…paper towel?”
Lara stood up and pushed the shards into a sopping pile with her foot. “Don’t worry! It’s a good omen, guys. I swear.”
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