Page 5 of Faking the Pass

Jessica whipped around to face the screen and clapped her hands.

“Oh I can’t wait to see the photos of her in the dress,” she squealed. “She is so beautiful. I got to meet her last night after the rehearsal dinner—Wilder was working it. The groom seems like a piece of work, but she was lovely.”

“Who is it?” Mom asked.

“Rosie James, the co-star in Randy Ryland’s next film.

He’s the groom, and he’s producing the movie.

It’s her first starring role. She’s a local, you know.

She went to Eastport Bay High. Older than me, but Wilder said he’d met her.

You probably knew her, Presley. I think she would have been in your grade. ”

I knew her alright.

In fact, Rosie James and I had gone out for a while during our senior year, and I’d liked her. A lot.

So much in fact that I’d broken things off with her before they could really get started.

She wasn’t the kind of girl you fooled around with and left behind, and back then I hadn’t been able to afford the distraction of a real relationship.

Not if I was going to make it to the NFL and become the greatest quarterback of all time.

Actually not much had changed in that department since I’d gone pro. I was still in pursuit of that goal, and I still kept my relationships with women pretty simple.

Maybe someday when my career was over I’d think about getting serious with someone.

Now was not that time. I needed full focus to recover and get back to work on breaking the all-time record for Superbowl wins.

“Yeah, I know her—knew her. Nice girl,” I said, though the word nice was inadequate to describe Rosie. “At least she was back then.”

It had been a long time. Who knew how much she’d changed? She could be a whole different person by now.

I was sorry to hear she was marrying a potential a-hole, though, even if he was a rich and famous actor and movie producer. And so good looking women worldwide swooned over him.

“What do you mean the groom was a ‘piece of work?’” I asked, surprised the question that had popped into my head had actually come out of my mouth.

Now that it was out there though, I wanted the answer.

Jessica turned back toward me and wrinkled her nose.

“You know how guys act when they’re really in love? He didn’t act like that,” she said. “And it was his rehearsal dinner, you know? The night before he’s supposed to marry the love of his life.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe he was just being guarded—he is a big star after all. But she seemed so genuine and sweet.”

Jessica walked over to the vegetable plate on the counter and popped a baby carrot into her mouth.

“I hope I’m wrong,” she said, “but some of the catering staff were commenting about how arrogant and entitled he acted. He apparently really undertipped as well. And they said he sort of ignored Rosie all night while he chummed up with his director and producer friends. He toasted just about everyone but her.”

A bitter wave of something that felt like anger swelled up inside me.

What the hell was that about?

I hadn’t seen the girl in fifteen years. I’d never even met the guy. And their relationship was none of my business.

So why did I feel so protective suddenly?

Randy Ryland was probably just a highly focused guy who didn’t have time to spare for pleasantries. Several of my own former girlfriends would probably say I was an a-hole because I hadn’t given them the kind of time and attention they’d wanted from me.

But then I hadn’t proposed to any of them, had I?

Not even close.

And Rosie deserved the best. She was one of the sweetest girls I’d ever met. Crazy talented too.

I’d kept up with her career from afar, seen her in a couple of commercials, and sure, I’d admired her beauty. Who hadn’t?

And of course I’d been happy for her when the news came out about her big break, that she’d be co-starring with the great Randy Ryland in his upcoming romantic comedy film.

Like me, Rosie was going for it and achieving her dreams. Until this minute, I’d assumed she was getting everything she’d ever wanted, including true love.

Now I wasn’t too sure.

“How long have they been together?” I asked Jessica.

“I don’t really know any details, just what I read online,” she said. “Apparently it’s a whirlwind romance kind of thing. They pulled this massive wedding together really fast. He proposed on Oscar night. On TV. In front of nineteen million people.”

Dylan, who was walking around with Theo on his shoulders, snorted. “How romantic. No pressure there, right?”

“Well she’s a lovely girl from what I remember, and I’m happy for her,” Mom said.

She picked up my empty plate and carried it to the sink.

“Now we need to work on you two,” she said, eyeing me and Dylan. “I bought several mother-of-the-groom dresses for Wilder and Jessica’s wedding, and I want a chance to wear the others before they go out of style—or the menopause spread turns them into scarves.”

“Oh yeah, I’d be a great marriage candidate.” Dylan snickered. “Barely hanging onto my job with the Nauticals, making NFL minimum wage, oh—and with a sassy six year old as part of the package deal.”

Mom patted his shoulder. “You’re an excellent catch, and Lily is the most adorable little girl who ever lived. Any woman would consider herself lucky to have you both .”

My brother rolled his eyes and bobbed his head, using a silly tone. “Thanks Mom.”

“Sanks Mom!” Theo echoed in his high baby-voice.

We all laughed, my nephew most of all.

“Have you ever considered that a wife might actually help with your career? Not to mention be good for Lily,” Mom said.

She gestured toward the TV. “Take Rosie for instance. The fact that she and her co-star fell in love during filming and are now getting married is going to make that movie so much bigger than it would have been. It’s already making her a household name.

Marriage can double your happiness and success, not halve it— if it’s the right person. ”

“Hear that, Pres?” Dylan called out. “Maybe that’s what you need to win that eighth Super Bowl and be the G.O.A.T.—a wife.”

“I won’t be winning anything ever again unless I focus on rehabbing my shoulder.”

My tone sounded grouchier than I’d intended.

Yep, it was high time I got back to my own house where I could be alone and focus—away from other humans who required actual civility.

“Who are we kidding? You had no time for a relationship even before you were injured,” Dylan teased. “What Presley really needs is a dog… unless he can find a girlfriend who’s happy with a relationship consisting of being fed once a day and getting an occasional walk around the block.”

“Haha.” I shot him a death glare before we both cracked up. My brother could always manage to make me laugh—even with throbbing surgical pain.

And he wasn’t wrong. Which was why I’d never pursued things with Rosie or any other woman who’d require actual effort.

My eyes drifted back to the screen where a reporter delivered breathless commentary on the upcoming nuptials of my high school dream girl.

No, a woman like Rosie would be far too much of a distraction—something I never allowed.