by Kim Carmody
Hey, just wanted to make sure you’ll be at the press conference this morning. Can’t believe how busy you’ve been.
I cringed as I read his message, feeling sick about the lies I’d fed him for two days to buy myself some time.
Me: Of course I’ll be there. Don’t be offended if I steer clear of you in front of everyone. I’d rather not set the rumor mill alight two weeks running. Speak to you after?
Will: Got it, can’t wait x
God I felt like the worst kind of person. I knew he’d understand my need to be out of the spotlight given his own preference for keeping his personal life private. He just didn’t know I had no intentions of seeing him afterward. As soon as the last question was asked, I was out of there—no way was I having the conversation we needed to have with anyone even remotely close to us.
My nerves were all over the shop by the time the press had gathered, waiting for coach and quarterback to take to the stage. I’d been so focused on ensuring Will and I weren’t seen together in public that I hadn’t given any thought to what it would actually feel like to lay eyes on him again. Mark had allocated James to manage the team, no doubt to ensure the two of us were kept well apart, particularly with Hayes sitting in the front row. I stood to the back of the room, partially covered by the rows of cameras focused in on the media wall.
The hushed murmur of the waiting press was replaced by the familiar sounds of cameras clicking and shuffling in seats as the side door opened. My breath caught as Will stepped out, his big frame moving with ease toward the table. He wore the official club uniform, long limbs encased by gray sweat pants and a blue Warriors t-shirt stretched tight over his chest. Wet hair and a half smile peeked out from under his cap, pulled low enough to cast a shadow across his jaw. A thrill coursed through me just at seeing him, my fingers itching to touch him.
I stiffened as his eyes roamed the room, knowing what he was looking for. When they landed on me his face lit up momentarily and I felt my own features give way under his gaze, part happiness and part panic gripping my chest. He held eye contact with me, a flicker of uncertainty marring his face as I fought to control any emotion on my own.
Dana’s shoulder brushed mine. “You all right?”
I nodded, dropping my eyes but latching on firmly when she gave my hand a squeeze. I’d revealed nothing after my run-in with Hayes and as much as I’m sure it was killing them not knowing, the team hadn’t pushed me on it. I was confident they sensed it hadn’t gone well, given my overtly false enthusiasm in the office. I was a mess and they knew it, but I was grateful that they played along as if everything was fine.
I let the press conference wash over me, enjoying the sound of Will’s voice without taking in his words. Twenty minutes went by in a flash and before I realized it, the last question was asked and answered, the swarm of press rising to their feet to exit.
Desperate to avoid any run-ins with the media and keen to put as much distance between Will and me as possible, I turned to Dana with pleading eyes. “Are you good to wrap this up on your own?”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Sure, you get out of here.”
Squeezing her hand, I turned and ducked out of the room, down a corridor that lead underground, a short cut so I could beat the press to the cab rank.
My phone rang and seeing it was Will I silenced it, focusing instead on the click, click of my heels on the concrete floor of the tunnel. I had almost rounded the corner when I heard him.
“Hey!”
Shit. How had he gotten away from everyone so quickly?
“Emma.”
I swivelled, giving him a small wave as I started back towards him on shaky legs. He stepped out into the hallway and it was only then I realized I’d been walking past the back entrance to the locker room. So much for a stealthy exit.
“Hey yourself.” I smiled, unable to ignore my natural happiness at seeing him.
His face softened, long arms crossing his chest as he leaned against the wall and watched me approach.
“Where’ve you been all my life, Bambi?” He grinned and my heart did a backflip in my chest. I didn’t really have to give him up, did I?
“Sorry, work’s been a bit crazy this week.” I shrugged, tearing my gaze from his face at the lie.
He stepped closer, his familiar scent engulfing me. “And here I thought you were avoiding me.” I shivered at the way his voice lowered. That was my voice. He only spoke that way to me.
Keeping my tone light, I said, “Of course not. Don’t be silly.” God he was so close it was hard to breathe. “I actually have to go now though.” I signalled with a nod of my head to the exit.
“What? Why the rush?” He cocked his head in question, brows drawing together.
“I…I just have to get back to the office.” I took a deep breath. “I have a meeting.”
“What happened to us catching up?”
“I know, I’m sorry. It just came up this morning.”
Really, what was one more lie?
Will shook his head. “Hang on a minute. You are avoiding me.”
“No! Of course I’m not. I really do have to go.”
He stared at me a beat. “Anyone ever tell you, you’re a terrible liar?”
“Will…I’m not—”
“Who’s your meeting with?”
“What?”
“Who’s your meeting with Emma? It’s a simple question.”
“It’s…I…you don’t know them.”
He held my gaze, stubborn in his anger. God, there was no way I was going to win this staring contest.
“Will.” I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Let’s catch up tonight. We’ll talk then.”
His eyes bulged. “Jesus, we’ll talk?” His hands mimicked quotation marks at the word talk. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Nothing, it means nothing…let’s just catch up tonight, not here. Please?”
“No. This is bullshit. If there’s something we need to talk about, then let’s talk about it now.”
Oh my God. This was the definition of hell.
I opened and shut my mouth about a thousand times, trying to get out what I needed to say. For all the endless minutes and hours I’d thought about how this would go, I realized I’d never actually planned the words I wanted to say in my head.
“Fine. I think it would be a mistake for us to keep seeing each other.”
Way to just…put it out there Emma.
Will looked at me blankly, confusion marring his beautiful face.
“Why?”
“I just think it’s for the best.”
“Best for who?”
“For both of us.”
A choked sound came out of his throat. “I don’t recall asking your opinion on what was best for me.” Shaking his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose and met my eyes again. “After the weekend we’ve just had, are you fucking serious?”
I flinched at his words. “I thought it was ‘no biggie.’”
I watched in horror as he turned and slammed his palm into the door. He turned back, taking a deep breath before speaking.
“What’s really going on here Emma? Tell me the truth.”
I closed my eyes and squared my shoulders before looking at him again.
“It’s hard, people are different around me in the office now. I just think we’re better off leaving things before they get any more complicated.”
His laugh was humourless. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Will, come on. This was only ever supposed to be a bit of fun, you know that.” The words felt like razor blades coming out of my throat.
“Fun. Is that what you call it?” His face was only inches from my own. “You call meeting my whole fucking family ‘just a bit of fun?’”
“No, that’s not what I meant…meeting your family was great. I loved it…I just, my career is important to me and I don’t want to jeopardize it.” I reached out to touch his arm but he flinched away, turning to pace t
he corridor.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!” His voice echoed in the empty hallway. “I can’t fucking believe this. Finally, I finally get through to you and now this.”
God it hurt, it hurt everywhere. Pain for me, pain for him. I couldn’t believe how fiercely he was reacting, and every part of me wanted to go to him, tell him I didn’t mean it, that I loved him. “Will please, be reasonable.”
“Reasonable? How am I the one being unreasonable?”
I shook my head, frustration bubbling just below the surface at his naivety. “Put yourself in my shoes for a second. It’s hard, all right? People are judging me, and no one’s particularly impressed with my behavior.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, don’t be so damn dramatic. The club will get over it. Besides, no one’s said anything to me.”
Anger flared as I thought of Sarah, thousands of miles away. “Don’t be so dramatic? Will, you walk around in this ridiculous little bubble with no idea what’s going on around you. Of course no one’s said anything to you…you’re the bloody quarterback. No one says anything to you as long as you’re making the ball land where it needs to. God, you’re so…uggghhh!”
I turned my back to him, pinching the bridge of my nose as I tried to regain some control. Turning around I looked up at him, stepping close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. “Answer me this. If the roles were reversed, would you give up football for me? If you had to, if that’s what it took, would you walk away?”
I searched his eyes as a frown crossed his face. “Why even ask me that? It’s irrelevant.”
“Humor me then. If you had to pick, would it be me or football?”
“I…that’s, it’s different. It’s not the same thing.”
I nodded, knowing that would be his answer. It didn’t make it hurt any less. “So your career is more important than mine then. Hmm?”
“No, I—”
“Well you said it was different, so what does that mean? How is my career any different than yours, any less important?”
“It’s not less important, of course it isn’t.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, my voice strangely calm. “Then answer me, yes or no?”
“No! Are you happy? I wouldn’t, but it’s a fucking stupid question.” Both hands went to his hair, pulling in frustration. “You know what, if you’re so caught up in what people think of you, then maybe you’re right, maybe it is best we don’t see each other.” I flattened my back against the wall as he stepped into me, hands planted on the concrete on either side of my face. “I don’t fucking need this. I’m done.”
He pushed off, not giving me a second glance as he wrenched open the locker room door. I watched him go, barely registering the many pairs of shocked eyes that looked back at me as the door swung shut.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Three weeks.
It had been three weeks since Will had ripped my heart out and walked away. No scrap that, three weeks since I’d ripped out my own heart. Will had done nothing wrong. I hated letting him think I was walking away because I was worried about what people thought of me, but I couldn’t tell him of Hayes’ threat. I’d already done enough damage without ignoring his orders on that front too.
If I thought I’d experienced any sort of heartache before this, I was sorely mistaken. Oh how mistaken I was. My body felt like it had gone ten rounds in a boxing ring, my limbs ached and a lead weight sat in the pit of my stomach. But the physical pain was no match for the knife lodged in my chest, for the nightmare scenes of the last time we’d spoken that replayed in my mind every waking hour. The only solace I found was in sleep, which I did often.
I hadn’t spoken to, or been in close proximity to Will since we’d had it out after the press conference. The club made very sure of that. To add to my heartache, I had to deal with the daily mortification of everyone knowing my business. Whoever said men didn’t gossip was lying, because the players on the other side of the door that day had heard every word we’d exchanged, and they hadn’t held back in spreading the news.
Those who didn’t have the full story just made stuff up, one of my personal favorites was that Will had blown up at me because I wouldn’t stop stalking him after our weekend love fest. So much for my excuse about ending things to protect my professional reputation. Half the office looked at me like I was a bunny boiler and the scariest part was, I didn’t care enough to correct them.
Thankfully those nearest to me were forever watching my back. Carrie, Dana and James had formed a protective bubble around me, the team’s schedule silently shuffled to ensure I wouldn’t need to attend anything that Will was at.
Until tonight that was. Tonight it was all hands on deck, and because the initial hype following our very well publicized blow-up was now just a distant memory—except to yours truly of course—all hands on deck included me too.
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, smoothing my dress down for the hundredth time. It was the same one I’d worn the night I’d met Will at the draft party. I knew he liked me in it…he’d told me as much in the Hamptons, describing the memory of the first time he’d laid eyes on me in it down to the very last detail as he’d kissed a trail along my spine.
Did I feel petty wearing it now? Absolutely. But was that going to stop me from letting Will see me in it? Absolutely not. Because I wanted a reaction. Something to show me he hadn’t moved on as quickly as it seemed to the outside world.
Over the past weeks my memories of that awful scene in the corridor, while still vividly etched in my brain, were slowly merging with the reality of Will now. Because Will now was firing on all cylinders, the man could do no wrong. Those first few days I’d spent wallowing away, devastated but at the same time heartened in some perverted way by how upset Will had seemed. I hated that he was hurting, but a small part of me hoped that the depth of his hurt translated into the magnitude of his feelings for me. But as the days wore on, it became apparent that aside from his initial outburst, he’d moved on just fine.
I couldn’t get away from talk in the office or reports in the media of how good his form was. One particularly hideous morning, I even got stuck between two guys on the crowded subway singing his praises. Apparently they’d never seen him have a pre-season like it. He was stronger, faster, more focused than he’d ever been—and unbeknownst to them, all since he’d walked away from me.
I tried lying, tried convincing myself that I was happy for him, happy that he was on fire in his year, the year he was tipped to lead the Warriors to Super Bowl victory. In reality it hurt like hell. Every successful pass, every touchdown, every press conference where he smiled straight down the barrel of the camera and told the world how fantastic he felt was like a stab to the heart.
So I was wearing the goddamn dress tonight and I didn’t give a crap if it was a low blow.
“There you are.” Carrie walked in with a grin stretching from ear to ear. “We couldn’t find you, and the first guests are arriving.”
“Oh, sorry, I’m coming out now.” I grabbed my clutch, following her back into the foyer.
Tonight’s event was the premier screening of a documentary on the history of the Warriors, and had been in the making for eighteen months. Had it not been for the fact that I’d be spending ninety minutes sitting in the same movie theatre as Will, I would actually be looking forward to seeing it.
“You look great, by the way.” Carrie nudged my shoulder. “You’ll be hard to miss,” she said, giving my side a friendly pinch.
I smiled. “Thanks.” And in a rare moment of honesty, I added, “Is it wrong that I don’t want to be missed…by him?”
“Not at all, I totally get it.” Squeezing my shoulder, she headed off to the cinema entrance.
Half an hour later, the red carpet was packed, current and past greats making their way down through the throng of media, some pausing for interviews, others just stopping for photos. I was so busy managing the demands of the media, I didn’t even noti
ce his arrival until he was only a few feet away.
Will stared at me, eyes raking over my body in exactly the way I’d envisioned, but I was too busy noticing his arm, and the arm that was looped through it to feel any sense of satisfaction. My eyes followed the arm candy up to her neck and across her perfectly formed facial features, before making their way down her equally perfect body. It was her, Elena, the woman that was no less than the fifth most beautiful woman on the planet.
She was oblivious to me, far too concerned with looking perfect for the waiting press, and why shouldn’t she be? Tomorrow morning she’d feature on every news site in the city.
My gaze moved back over to Will, whose eyes hadn’t left me. Suddenly I felt ridiculous in my dress, a flush of heat ran through me at how wasted my efforts had been. At best he’d brought her along to taunt me, at worst—and the most likely scenario—he hadn’t given me a second thought when inviting her. He was simply back on the dating scene.
Sucking in some much needed air, I stepped towards them, a small voice of reason telling me to just do my job and get it over with.
“Will, hi.”
“Hey, it’s good to see you.” His smile was polite, nothing more, nothing less. It was the one I knew he’d give to every journalist in the line of waiting media and it killed me.
“You too. How are you?”
“Good. How are things with you?”
“Also good.” I smiled awkwardly, just wanting to get away from him. “If you’d like to–”
“How’s your job going?” If it wasn’t for the slight tic in his jaw, I would have thought his question genuine.
“It’s good, thanks for asking. I’m enjoying it.”
He nodded once. “Glad to hear it, wouldn’t want anything to be amiss. I know how important it is to you.”
I glared at him, shocked by the bitterness in his voice. “A reporter from The Times is waiting to speak to you.” Catching Dana by the tips of her fingers I pulled her to me. “Dana will help you get through the press line.”
I turned then, not waiting to check that Dana could in fact spare the time to get them past the waiting press. Making it to the relative privacy of the hallway that led to the restrooms, I slumped against the wall, willing myself to keep it together.