Page 122 of Only Between Us

The nerves hit the moment our plane touches down on the tarmac.

After months of training, running my body into the ground, sucking up two of my best friends’ free time, faking a relationship with the woman who’d go on to steal my heart in a very real way…

It all comes down to this. Tomorrow is my first scrimmage with the Rebels since I retired.

It would have been pressure enough without knowing it also means laying eyes on Naomi for the first time since the front door of my house shut behind her. And competing against her affair partner for a contract with the only team I’ve ever wanted to sign with.

The sky outside the terminal is pitch-black. We took the last flight out to LAX, but the airport is still an obstacle course of people and suitcases that Siena and I weave through on the way to the car service the Rebels set up for us.

My girl is just about the only reason I’m not having to tackle unsuspecting travelers standing between me and safely throwing up in passing garbage bins.

Her soft hand in mine tethers my sanity. She’s so damn cute, marching us through this crowd with authority, ponytail bouncing,suitcase trailing behind her. Siena glances over, checking on me like she has multiple times over the course of our six-and-a-half-hour flight. She gives me a smile that feels a lot like the conspiratorial ones we’d exchange during appearances, when this thing between us was pure pretend.

You with me?

And fuck, am I glad she’s with me.

I know, unequivocally, that I couldn’t handle the next few days without her.

She’s my person, my sounding board. Always in my corner, looking out for me. Wanting the best for me. Making me feel worthy of every single thing I want in life.

The contract, the championship. The wife, the kids. The growing old together.

We round a corner on the way to the escalators when Siena hits the brakes with a gasp.

“It’s you.” She drags me through the crowd to a newsstand, stopping at a magazine rack to pluck a copy ofAround the Leagueoff the stand. “Is this our issue? I didn’t know it was coming out this week!”

I grimace at the sight of my own face on the cover. That stupid shirtless, football pants and padding ensemble they put me in.

I look like an absolute tool.

“I mean, come on. The audacity of this cover.” She flips it around against her chest, exposing it to anyone walking past. She’s beaming, the picture of pride. “You’re so hot it’s just rude to other men.”

A woman pauses at Siena’s proclamation. I shuffle a couple of steps to block her view of the magazine, hoping she moves on.

“A little subtlety, babe.” I take Siena’s wrist, trying to get her to hold the damn thing less prominently. I wonder how I can go about buying every copy of the magazine in this airport without looking self-absorbed.

“Subtle for what? You look unbelievable. Do you think our shots together made the cut?”

Siena flips through the magazine until she finds my spread: four back-to-back pages of whatever words vomited out of me when they interviewed me that day, along with various photos. Including a full-page shot of me and Siena.

We’re in the living room, huddled on the couch. Me in just a pair of jeans, her in the Rebels jersey she’d dug out of my closet. It’s so reminiscent of the picture that started all of this. The one up in the coaches’ booth at UOB.

She’s tucked under my arm, hand splayed over my chest, and I’m looking down at her exactly the same way I had that first day. A perfect storm of awed and stunned. Like a guy who isn’t quite sure how he ended up there, but it would take an act of God to tear him away.

Except, this time, Siena’s looking right back at me.

Her mouth is tilted in a way that’s a little perplexed, as though she’s trying to figure me out. But her eyes tell the rest of the story. They’re crinkled in a bright smile, sparkling with pure… adoration. If we don’t look the picture of head over heels in love, I don’t know who would.

Siena stares down at the magazine for several seconds. I can tell she senses exactly what I do through this picture. That even though neither of us have said the words, this picture shoutsI love youthrough the page.

“We look really good together,” she says at last.

“We are really good together.”And I love you.

“I’m going to buy it.” She hesitates, then lifts every copy off the rack, giving me a sheepish look. “Just in case your mom wants a couple when we see her.”

“You’re fidgeting.”