by Vanessa Fox
She shakes her head in disbelief. "But this means..." her eyes light up. "You'll be seeing him again, right? I'm assuming you two hung out, right? Did you catch up? Is he as hot in person as he is on the field?"
I laugh. "Slow down. Yeah, we talked for a while. But nothing's gonna happen on that front. Believe me."
"What?! Why not? He must've come to the event just to see you."
"He did."
"Please, for the love of God, please please tell me you at least got his number."
"Um..." I give her a regretful look.
She puts her head in her hands dramatically. "Oh God, what an epic fuck up!"
"Who? Me?"
"Of course you!" She shoots me daggers with her eyes. "How could you fuck up this opportunity?!"
"Opportunity? What opportunity? He's my high school ex. We had a pleasant conversation... well, mostly pleasant. We parted ways and that was that."
"He clearly wants to be with you. Why did you let him slip away?"
"Who cares what he wants? What about what I want? Isn't that important?"
"Well, yeah... but why wouldn't you want to be with Kade Hughes?"
I hate the way she emphasizes his name. Like he's Jesus, or the Pope. God's gift to mankind. Incidentally, that's also how he views himself.
"Katie, unlike you, I don't care about fame or fortune," I explain. "I don't care if Kade goes down in history as the best football player to ever live. I don't care if he becomes the president. None of that matters. He's not right for me, and that's that."
Katie looks absolutely perplexed. "But... but why not?"
I shrug. "We had nothing in common back in high school, and we really have nothing in common now. I was a dumb, naive girl who was blinded by her hormones. Kade had so many red flags, and guess what? All my worst fears about him came true. He really hurt me."
"Yeah, but that was in high school! How do you know he hasn't changed?"
"Gaining fame and fortune doesn't fix bad behavior. It exacerbates it."
"But you haven't even given him a chance."
"I don't want to give him a chance. Because what if I fall for him and he hurts me again?"
Katie's mouth parts and she stares at me in shock. "Wow, did you really just freely admit to that?"
"Yeah, so?"
"You've been so tight-lipped about the whole thing. Now you're spilling the beans. I like it."
I roll my eyes. "Well, it's true. I didn't want to talk about Kade because he broke my heart. He tore me up and I've never been the same since. It's embarrassing and pathetic, but I still feel hurt over what happened. So that's why I don't want to talk or think about him at all. But now that he's everywhere in the media, it's kind of hard. Now that my best friend is dragging me to his games, it's hard. Now that he's suddenly reappearing in my life, it's hard."
"I'm sick of it," I huff. "I just want to live my life, free from his influence. Is that so much to ask?"
Katie stares at me in shock. "N-no... I guess not."
"I know you want to meet him. I know you want to take Instagram selfies to show off to all your friends. I don't blame you. But... I'd appreciate it if you'd just lay off the whole Kade thing."
She blinks. "Fine."
"Thank you," I sigh.
Katie tips back her wineglass and finishes off the rest of it in one long chug. "I'm going to bed," she says stiffly.
She gathers her things and walks to her bedroom without another word.
I've pissed her off.
I feel bad, but what does she want from me? I'm not going to date Kade just so she can gain a bit of fame and notoriety by association. I know that's what she wants. If Kade was some nobody, she wouldn't care whether or not we got back together. But since he's famous, I'm somehow obligated to give him another chance? Please.
Chapter 12
Kade
The next week passes by in a blur. My schedule is jam-packed and it's easy to throw myself into my work. Along with the grueling practices, I also have a photoshoot for Sports Illustrated, multiple press conferences, and a visit to Saint Jude's hospital to visit sick kids. Then, of course, our Thursday night football game.
I'm grateful I don't have a lot of free time to lay around thinking about Willow and moping about my missed opportunity. But that doesn't mean she's not in the back of my mind, practically every second of the day.
It's incredibly annoying.
I can't stop thinking about her. She's burrowed her way into my mind and won't get out.
The time I spent with her at the charity ball could've been interpreted as closure. But nothing about it felt complete or satisfying. Instead it just seemed to open up a whole new can of worms.
I no longer have to wonder, "What if?"
Instead I'm wondering, "Why not?"
And I just haven't come up with an answer.
I get it, I hurt her. Purely by accident— but it did happen.
But is that enough of a reason to completely shut me out? Am I not worth another chance?
And what about her? What about her lying to me about being accepted to Harvard? That hurt me. But it doesn't count?
Fuck that.
I'm Kade Fucking Hughes. I don't need validation from an old ex.
I know I'm hot shit, regardless of what she thinks.
I don't need her. Not at all.
But as I go through the motions of my daily life, as I run out onto the field to cameras flashing and thousands of fans chanting my name and cheering me on, I can't help but want her to be a part of it. I want her to be there, offering her support, celebrating with me during the good times, and wallowing with me during the bad. I want her to be the warm place I go to at the end of the day when I'm exhausted and my body is sore and all I want to do is collapse on to the bed next to her, wrapping her up in my embrace.
I want her there, and my life feels strangely empty without her in it.
I'm lucky enough to have everything in life I've ever wanted— fame, fortune, notoriety. I've got my dream job and I'm kicking ass at it. I'm being complimented by the same players I've looked up to my entire life. More than that— I'm beating them. The Alphas have a 10-0 record so far, one of only two still undefeated teams in the entire league.
I'm meeting and making friends with countless celebrities. I've paid off debts and I'm saving up my money to buy new houses for both sets of parents. I have a kick ass downtown condo. A motorcycle and a Ferrari.
All I have to do is glance at a woman and she'll melt to putty in my hands. I can have literally any woman I want.
…Except for the one woman I'd give anything to be with.
Even with all of this cool shit, what's the point if I can't have what I really want?
Who am I doing this for?
Every action I take, everything I do and say seems to ring hollow. As if it's all for nothing.
I know that isn't true.
But these lingering doubts are driving me crazy.
I have to talk to Willow again.
We have to hash it out, and truly get to the bottom of it. If, after that, she still turns me down, so be it.
But I can't give up yet.
Kade Hughes never gives up.
I've played football long enough to know that anything can happen. Miracles can happen at any moment, even when the situation looks hopeless. The game isn't over until the clock strikes zero.
Willow
It seems like everyone in my life is pissed off at me for turning down Kade Hughes.
Katie has been distant and aloof since I told her what happened.
Mrs. Cooper was so excited that I had indeed "tapped that". When I told her otherwise, her disappointment was palpable. She seemed to almost take personal offense to it. She hasn't been joking around with me at work nearly as much as usual.
Even my own dad couldn't resist sharing his disappointment when word got around to him. Yes, the same dad who hated Kade back in high school because he knew we weren't a good fit. Now all of a
sudden, Kade's the goldenboy that he wants around. Go figure.
It's like no one can mind their own fucking business.
My personal life is mine, and no one else's.
Nobody can force me to be with Kade. It's not going to happen.
To preserve my own sanity, I've taken a break from media. No television, no internet except checking emails as needed. For me it's just work, and books.
Still, it's impossible to ignore him completely.
Katie loves to put ESPN on at a high volume at our apartment.
Even Mrs. Cooper watches it in the office. I've heard enough to know that the Alphas are still undefeated. Good for them.
But I won't be going to any more of their games. I won't be reading news articles about them.
Kade's business is Kade's business.
I'm in my office now and Mrs. Cooper is ignoring me as usual. The phone rings and I pick it up.
"Cooper Foundation, how may I help you?" I greet.
"Willow?"
I freeze.
The voice is low, husky, and familiar, with a Southern drawl.
I would recognize that voice anywhere.
After a long silence, he repeats. "Willow Greene? Don't hang up."
"What do you want?" I ask breathlessly. I feel like all the air in my lungs has been sucked out and I feel dizzy.
"I want to talk to you," he says simply.
"About what?"
"About..." He pauses, flustered by my question. "Anything, I guess."
"Is this regarding the foundation? Did Mrs. Cooper give you an invoice for your donation? I'm sure you're gonna want a copy for your records, it really comes in handy during tax season."
He sighs. "You know that's not what I want."
"Well, I'm at work, so, if this isn't work related, I should be going."
"Meet me after work, then. I'll pick you up. When do you get off?"
"I..." my voice trails off. "Kade."
"Five o clock? All right, I'll be there at five."
I notice Mrs. Cooper is craning her neck, staring at me curiously through the small window in her office, as if she can instinctively tell there's some funny business going on.
"Listen, I really don't think it's a good idea—"
I hear a dialtone. He hung up on me!
I grit my teeth, seething. I hate his boldness. He just does whatever he wants, whenever he feels like it. To hell with what others want.
Mrs. Cooper steps out of the office. "Who was that?"
"Oh, nobody. Wrong number."
She raises an eyebrow. "Uh huh," she eyes me suspiciously.
I just give a fake smile and return my focus to the spreadsheets on the computer, trying my best to act like nothing is amiss.
—
It's ten past five and I'm still sitting at my desk, stewing. Mrs. Cooper is packing up her things and about to head out the door.
"Come on now, what's taking so long?" she asks.
I sigh. "Nothing."
I reluctantly grab my purse and get up. I follow her out the door. She locks it behind us and we head down stairs that lead onto the street.
I'm praying that I can slip away without being seen. To my left there's a bus stop with a crowd of people waiting. I usually take this bus a few blocks to the subway that leads me straight home.
I say goodbye to Mrs. Cooper and make a beeline for the crowd, hoping I can blend in. As I walk I hear the guttural roar of a motorcycle approaching, and out of the corner of my eye, I see a bright red bike pull up next to me on the street. The man's face is covered by his black helmet, but I already know instinctively who it is, and he's spotted me like a hawk.
"Willow!" he calls out.
I want to pretend not to hear him and just keep walking, but I know I can't.
"Hop on!" he waves me towards him.
I step close to the curb and cock my head. "There's no way I'm getting on that thing."
"It's all right, I've got protection," he grins as he reaches behind him and pulls out another black helmet. He tosses it to me and I almost fumble catching it.
"Go on," he urges.
I glare at him as I pull the helmet over my head. It's hot and dark, and tinted like the windows in a limousine.
I'm utterly annoyed and frustrated right now. I don't want to spend time with Kade, especially not on a mechanical death machine. I just know he's gonna speed around like a maniac.
Yet, it's like there's an unstoppable force drawing me to him like a magnet.
Most women can easily tell an obnoxious ex to buzz off and go away. It happens all the time.
So why can't I do it?
I gingerly slide on to the seat in the rear. Kade reaches back and pulls my arms forward, locking them around his... very hard torso.
Of course, riding this motorcycle requires my arms wrapped tightly around him. How convenient. I couldn't imagine Kade would choose this method of transportation for any other reason.
Kade asks me if I'm settled and I nod. He revs the engine with his right hand before speeding off. The rapid acceleration catches me off guard. Within seconds we're speeding down the street— and we're not just speeding. He's zigzagging in between cars stuck in traffic, taking advantage of tight spots he can squeeze through. He takes a left turn down a relatively empty street and speeds up even more. Buildings and cars whiz by so quickly, it's disorienting.
"Kade! Slow down!" I cry, but I feel like my voice is lost in the whipping wind and roar of the engine.
"Don't worry, I do this every day!" he shouts.
My pulse is sky high, but not necessarily because of the danger alone. Part of it, I regretfully admit, comes from my proximity to Kade's body. I'm acutely aware of being smooshed up so close against him. My boobs are pressed against his back, which I'm sure he's enjoying. And I'm getting first hand experience (no pun intended) of his epic six-pack abs through his thin blue t-shirt.
It's doing something to me and I hate myself for it.
But sexual attraction doesn't mean much if you die before you can decide whether or not to act on it.
And right now that seems like a distinct possibility.
Fortunately, a few moments later Kade pulls to a stop and parks next to the curb. We both climb off and take off our helmets. I see him for the first time as he grins and flashes his pearly whites at me, an endearing dimple forming in the angular chisel of his face. Once again those brilliant green eyes have me captivated. His blond hair is tussled and matted from being under his helmet, until he runs a hand through it and shakes his head like a model in a shampoo commercial.
He cocks his head, reaches over and does the same to my hair.
I realize with embarrassment that my hair probably looks like a crow's nest.
"See? I told you we'd be fine," he chuckles.
"I saw my life flashing before my eyes," I say truthfully. "Doesn't your coach warn you not to drive like that? I can't imagine he'd be happy having his star quarterback go splat on the pavement."
"What, you think I don't know what I'm doing out there? I've been riding since I started at Georgia U. Every day for years."
"Well, you must have someone looking out for you then," I shake my head in disbelief.
Kade points his finger to the sky. "It's the big guy upstairs. He won't let me go until I fulfill my destiny: carrying the Alphas to their first Gridiron Bowl title."
I roll my eyes. "Uh huh. That's your destiny?"
"Yup."
He slings his arm around my shoulders and guides me down the sidewalk.
"Where are we going?" I'm looking around, assuming we'll be stepping into a restaurant or a pub.
Instead he leads me to the entrance to a tall skyscraper. I read the decal on the window: Highrise Condominiums, and grind to a halt.
"Hey, I'm not going up there," I say.
"Why not?"
"You wanted to meet. I thought you meant at a bar or something. I'm not going straight to your bedroom, Kade. Come on."
&n
bsp; "You think that's what this is about?" Kade laughs like it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "Ah, darlin'. I thought you gave me more credit than that."
"I don't," I say, my voice deadpan. I'm totally serious.
"Look, I'm not gonna try anything, I promise. I just really like hanging out at my pad. It's got everything. An amazing view of the city, a fully stocked bar, a fridge full of food. Besides, if we go to some popular place, I'm gonna get recognized, and before you know it, people are gonna start whispering about Kade Hughes being out with some new girl. You really want to be the top story on TMZ tomorrow?"
I cringe. He has a point. "All right. But I'll only stay a few minutes. And I swear to God, if you try anything, Kade..."
I shake my fist at him playfully, but my glare is serious. At least I hope he's taking me seriously.
He leads me inside and we take an elevator to the top floor. A moment later we're stepping into his apartment, and everything he said was true.
I can't help but gasp audibly as soon as I rest my eyes on it. It's huge, with an open floor concept, dark hardwood floors and white walls, decorated with sleek modern furniture, the walls adorned with giant canvasses showcasing beautiful abstract art. The kitchen looks like a chef's dream come true, with stainless steel appliances, granite counter-tops, and a gas stove. The far wall is nothing but floor to ceiling window panes offering a breathtaking view of downtown Atlanta.
"Not bad, huh?" He smirks as he takes off his leather jacket and hangs it up.
"Wow..." I mumble.
He walks into the kitchen and opens up a wine cooler. "I decorated it myself."
"You did?"
He gives me a knowing smile. "All right, no I didn't. I hired a decorator."
He rifles through the fridge. "So what'll it be? Beer? Wine? Straight gin?"
"I'll take a beer, I guess."
"Good choice."
He cracks the top off a couple bottles and hands me one. I take a sip and immediately feel like chugging the entire bottle in one go, but I know I can't. There's no way I'm getting tipsy in front of Kade.
He leads me down into the sunken living room and we sit on a cream-colored couch. I notice several framed black and white photographs on the wall. There's one for each set of parents, one with him holding a football in high school, and one with him and some of his teammates posing in the front yard of his dad's house. It immediately brings back memories of high school.