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R OWAN

It’s been a crazy six weeks of ups and downs. More downs in the beginning, but I feel like my life is only going to go up from now on. Stepping away from Miles was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Harder than confronting my family, which felt freaking invigorating.

I wouldn’t have been able to stand up to them if it wasn’t for Raye Martinez. She’s a life saver. Literally.

Pulling away from my friends was hard too, but it was the only way I could work on myself and not use them as a crutch. Not that I ever did. Maybe if I leaned on them more, I wouldn’t have spiraled into the pit of despair.

But I needed to find my own happiness, and comparing myself to Kendall and Rylie wasn’t good for my mental well-being. I hadn’t even realized I’d been comparing myself until Raye mentioned it.

Taking one final look in the mirror, I fluff my hair and pull on the Revs winter hat I ordered online. I haven’t been to a football game in two months, and the final game in their regular season is going to be a cold one.

Kendall and Rylie think my absence has been because of my sister. It started that way, but that’s not why I’ve only seen them twice since Thanksgiving. One was for a quick Christmas gift exchange, and the other was the day after New Year’s. I kept the conversation focused on them and their families, and when they asked about mine, I answered with the usual generic responses.

My sister’s recovery is going well. Truth. My family is doing as well as usual. Truth. I miss my friends and spending time with them. So freaking true.

My phone vibrates on my bed, and I read Kendall’s text stating she’s idling at the curb. With the snowbanks, it makes parking challenging, so I told her to let me know when she’s here.

I’m wearing Miles’s jersey under the Revs sweatshirt and bundle up in my puffy winter coat. Making sure my hand warmers are in my pocket, I grab my crossbody purse and hustle out the door.

“Hope you’re layered up, girlfriend,” Kendall says as I buckle up in the backseat, “‘Cause our nipples are about to freeze.”

“My nipples are well covered. It’s my face I’m worried about.”

“Since you’re not driving, you can get a nice warm buzz going.” Riley turns around and offers me a spiked seltzer.

“That would require me taking off my mittens.” I hold up my knit-covered hands.

“You can wrap those puppies around this with no problem.”

“I’d rather have hot chocolate,” I say, taking the seltzer from her.

“That can be remedied. Want to stop at a convenience store for some Baileys?” Kendall flicks on the blinker and turns onto the highway.

“Pretty sure we’re not allowed to bring alcohol into the stadium.”

Kendall waves her hand in front of her and makes a silly noise. “Pssh. Easy to hide under all our layers.”

“It’s my first game in two months and I get kicked out for bringing in contraband.”

“I forgot what a rule follower you are. It’s been too long, Row. I miss you so fucking much, our little ray of sunshine.” Riley rests the side of her face on her seat and stares back at me.

“I miss you guys too. Promise I won’t be so distant anymore.”

“You? Row, you’re not to blame for our lack of girls’ nights. I’d be pissed as hell if the roles were reversed, but you’re too nice to say anything to us about it. New Year’s resolution is girl time at least once a month. Whether it be a night on the town or facials on the couch, we’re not letting so much time go without hanging out. Deal?”

“That sounds perfect.” My heart warms, even as the seltzer chills my insides.

They fill the twenty-minute ride with stories about the kids. I miss them too. I can’t believe Emmitt’s crawling around, and Paisley will be taking ski lessons when the football season is over. They’re growing up so fast.

Today isn’t the right time to tell them about everything—my family, Miles, my new bravado—but I promised myself I’d unload it all the next time we’re together without the distraction of a football game.

Kendall pulls into the VIP lot and we load our arms with blankets as we hurry through the gate. It’s not like we’re late. The team is still warming up, but it’s their favorite part of the game. Watching everyone smile, joke around, and stretch. Yeah, the stretching is worth the cost of admission.

Not that we’ve ever had to pay for a ticket.

Jackson and Taylor are already in the season ticket seats we’ve been sitting in for the past three years.

“Hey, girlfriends.” They give us hugs and move down to make room for us.

I hop on my feet to warm up and my gaze immediately finds number eighty-six. Usually, his smile lights up the field and, even from the stands, I can see him cracking jokes to his teammates.

I’ve been watching the games at home, and you’d have to live under a rock not to hear the commentary about Miles Buckingham having an off second half of the season. First, I push him away, then he struggles with his game.

I’m not vain enough to think he’s missing catches because of me. We hadn’t dated very long before things went sour. We’re friends, sure, but I imagine he’s moved on by now. I’ve given him no reason to hold on to the hope that we’d be a couple again.

He’s popular among the ladies, and before he started crushing on me, he’d go home with a different woman every time I saw him out after a game. I’m not na?ve enough to think he’s been waiting on the sidelines for me.

I almost snort at my internal joke. Not a funny one. He’s been benched to the sidelines more than he’s had playing time. My heart hurts for him and I want him to have a successful season. Today is the last of the regular season, but the Revs are in the playoff berth. He has time to turn his game around.

“Earth to Row-row.” Jackson waves his hand in front of my face. “Zoning out at all the fine pieces of ass out there? Can’t say I blame you, even if I have the best ass in town.” He slaps Taylor on the butt with a chuckle.

“No frisky business in the stands,” Walker calls from below, then hops up to the railing to give Riley his ritual pregame kiss.

“Right back at ya, brother. You two can fuck like the bunnies you are after the game. Now go run your balls off.”

While Jackson knew nothing about football a few years ago, since he’s reconnected with his brother, he’s learned the ins and outs of the game. Does he still say ridiculous things to annoy Walker? Sure, but that’s what’s so adorable between the brothers.

If only my siblings and I could reconcile like Walker and Jackson did. But they both wanted to mend their relationship, while Natalie and Cameron couldn’t care less about having a relationship with me.

“Bankes. Get your ass back on the field,” the coach yells, as he typically does every time Walker pulls this stunt.

“See you after the game.” Walker gives Riley one more kiss and waves to us before hopping down.

I watch as he jogs back to his teammates. Miles says something to him then glances up at us with a wave, then returns his attention to his team. My heart sinks at the dismissal, but then his head snaps up again and we make eye contact.

Even with his helmet on, and from however many yards away, I can see his eyes widen. His smile follows suit and stretches from ear to ear. My insides warm and I curl my bottom lip between my teeth to tamp back my matching grin. Hell. Why am I hiding my smile?

I release my lip and grin back, offering him a quick wave. He taps his fingers to the front of his helmet then points them at me.

There’s commotion on the field and the captains herd the players back through the tunnel. Miles is one of the last to leave, his head continuously swiveling to the stands. When the field is clear and the cheerleaders begin their performance, I settle into my seat.

Thankfully, no one noticed the few minutes I was under Miles Buckingham’s trance. They were laughing, dancing to the music, and taking pictures of their men.

The game is intense. The Revs clinched a playoff berth, but a win will move them up in the standings, and Tampa Bay needs a win to make the wild card spot. The media have hyped today’s game up to be a battle of wills, and with the Revs not playing their best ball in November and December, they’re not favored to win, even though their ranking is higher.

Miles makes an amazing hail Mary catch at the end of the first half, and the stands go wild. We’re up by ten when the players go to the locker room.

“Drinks are on me, ladies. I think our boys are gonna pull this one off. What do you all want?” Jackson asks.

Kendall and Riley ask for water and order me another seltzer. “Fine. But this is my last one.”

“You’ve had two, cupcake. And I’m sure you’ve shivered and cheered the alcohol out of your bloodstream already.”

“Probably.”

“I could go for some chicken fingers,” Kendall calls to his retreating back.

“And popcorn,” Riley adds.

“I’ll go help him. Text me if you think of anything else.” Taylor follows Jackson up the steps.

The third quarter starts as they return, and I’m so nervous, I guzzle the seltzer. My eyes have been so focused on number eighty-six all afternoon, I hardly notice the cold. Miles turns around and winks at me—or at least in this direction—before shoving his helmet back on his head.

He’s light on his feet for such a big guy, and he’s fun to watch. Miles is on his A-game, and after every catch, the cameramen zoom in on him and his face fills the jumbotron. Pride fills my chest every time I see his smile.

The Miles I know and love—because I think I may be in love with him—is back.

We win the game by seventeen points and it’s nothing but loud cheers and celebrations as we slowly make our way to the friends and family waiting area.

Nerves hit me when the players start filtering out thirty minutes later. Brock and Darius come out together, and when Darius goes to his wife, Brock comes over to our small circle.

“There’s a beautiful face I haven’t seen in a long time.” He gives me a hug and keeps his arm draped over my shoulders as more players come out.

Declan joins us and pushes Brock away.

“There you are, gorgeous. Been way too fucking long since we’ve seen you around these parts.”

It’s nice to know I’ve been missed. I’ve gone longer than six weeks without seeing my family and they’ve never treated me so warmly.

I feel his presence before I see him. His tall frame fills my periphery, and I tilt my head to take him in.

“Hey.” The corner of his lip lifts and my heart flutters in my chest.

“Hey,” I repeat, sounding like an idiot.

“You coming out with us, gorgeous?” Dec asks.

Miles’s eyes drop to Dec’s arm around my waist and he clenches his jaw. Miles knows I would never have a relationship with any of his teammates, especially Dec.

“Sure.”

“Nice. You drive in?”

“No. I rode with Kendall and Riley.”

“I’ll let you have shotgun.” Without waiting for a response, Brock tugs me away from Dec’s arm and Miles’s intense stare.

A few minutes later, I’m seated in the front seat of Brock’s low-slung sports car.

“Great win tonight.” I twist my hands in my lap, unsure what to say. I’ve hung out with Brock plenty of times before, but always in a big group. We’ve never been one-on-one. And while I don’t think he’s interested in me romantically, it’s still a little awkward.

“Thanks, babe.” Brock cranks up the music and peels out of the parking lot.

Babe ? Yeah, something weird is going on.

I shift in my seat, and when we’re cruising down the highway, Brock finally turns down the music.

“So. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Yikes. Now it’s really awkward. Brock is great, but he’s not my type.

“Um, Brock, so, you’re a really nice guy but—”

“Oh, shit, Row.” Brock starts coughing or laughing. It’s hard to tell, and he thumps his chest with his fist. “Fuck. That’s not...” He clears his throat. “I have a favor to ask. That’s it. A platonic one.”

Heat rushes to my face. Of course he’s not hitting on me. It’s not like I’m some sex goddess or anything.

“Um. Okay. What is it?”

“So, I’ve got this fancy post-holiday party on Friday and I need a date.”

“I can’t imagine it’s hard for you to find one, Brock.”

“Ah, sugar. Are you calling me a hottie?”

I snort. “I didn’t call you a hottie.”

“But you wanted to. Admit it, Row. You think I’m hot.”

“You’re not bad to look at, but you already know that.” With his tanned skin, light-blue eyes, and muscles for days, his face—and body—is often plastered all over social media. And all over the Boston news coverage.

“And with you on my arm, we’ll be the best-looking couple there.”

He could easily find another woman who is leaner and curvier in all the right places. He’s usually photographed with a blonde who has legs for days. There’s another reason he wants me to attend, and I wait him out until he confesses.

“Mhm.” I wait for him to continue.

“Okay. Fine. Busted. So, the guys have a wager going.”

“This sounds like trouble.”

“But the best kind.” Brock gives me his signature grin then returns his attention to the road. “The guy with the hottest date wins the pool. At a hundred bucks to enter, it’s a pretty pot. And if we win— when we win, I’ll split it with you.”

“Confident, are you?” I laugh.

Brock stops at the red light and drops his gaze to my chest, then my legs, and returns it to my face. He has a way of checking out women without coming across as a sleazebag. Granted, I look like a puffball in all these layers, and the only part of me that's exposed is my face. Even after the eye perusal, I know he’s not hitting on me.

“No doubt.”

I tap my finger to my chin and respond. “Sixty-forty.”

“What?” He chuckles. “You only want forty percent of the cut?”

“Funny. And just for that, I’m upping it to seventy-thirty.”

“Damn. You’re vicious.”

I laugh. No one has ever referred to me as vicious before. “Do I need to go up to seventy-five?”

“Woman!” He clutches at his chest. “I should have known the girl next door’s got an evil streak.”

If only. Then my family wouldn’t have walked all over me my entire life.

“Fine. Seventy-thirty. We’re a sure-fire win.”

“We?” I tease. “I thought it was about the hot date, not the couple.”

“Smart ass. No wonder Bu—” He clamps his mouth shut. “We’ll have a good time.”

“Will I know anyone else there?”

Brock shifts in his seat and glances over his shoulder really quick. “Most of the guys from the team will be there. With dates.”

“Oh.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Riley and Kendall didn’t mention it to me.”

“I think Bankes and Hump got out of it. Mostly the single guys. Dec, Calves, Buck...”

My stomach tightens and I take three calming breaths before asking, “Do they all have dates.”

Brock tugs at the collar of his shirt. “Yeah.”

I fold my arms over my stomach and hunch forward. The anchor in my stomach hits rock bottom. “Brock, I, um, I don’t feel very well. Do you mind bringing me home instead of to the bar?”

“Shit, Row. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Thinking? Thinking about what? He has no idea about Miles and me unless...unless Miles said something to him. But if he did, Brock wouldn’t have so casually mentioned Miles having a date to the party.

We’re quiet as he turns his car around and heads toward my apartment. When he pulls up to the curb, he shifts in his seat and pierces me with those blue eyes. I had no idea who Frank Sinatra was until I Googled him after hearing the guys call Brock Sinatra time and time again.

He’s from New York, loves to sing, and has those sparkling iconic eyes that Frank Sinatra has. Brock is a beautiful man, but my heart doesn’t beat erratically for him like it does for Miles.

“Every man who sees you Friday night is going to wish they had you on their arm. Guaranteed.”

I lift my shoulder and force a smile. “I’m not interested in catching the eye of every man.”