Page 31

CALEB

Last night was such a blur. But one memory was clear as day, and it had everything to do with Amelia. The way she looked at me with those goddamn eyes, I get lost in. The way her mouth felt against mine. Her fingers clutching at my shirt like she wanted me.

It only took two words to shatter anything I thought was possibly real in that kiss. A mistake.

Today’s finally the day I’d sign the contract for Driftwear, and I couldn’t be happier. It’s been a long time coming.

I walk into the conference room, in my suit and tie, pulling out the rolling chair, taking a seat. Our team lawyer, Daryl, Coach and a few men from Driftwear stride in with their manila folders.

“Just to overview everything, this will be a three-year contract with the possibility of renewal if all goes well.” One of the men wearing a blue and white suit speaks up first.

“Caleb…” he gestures toward me. “… will be our global ambassador and front cover for Rookie of the Year. Also wearing the new pieces from our new athleisure collection coming this winter.”

Our lawyer nods, a firm smile spreading across her face. “It’s official then.”

They slide the contract down to me and I reach for the Driftwear pen they provided and etch my signature into the page.

It’s official.

“Congratulations, Caleb,” one of the Driftwear reps says. “We are so excited for this partnership.”

After signing, I step out into the quiet hall and head for the parking lot. My first thought was to call Amelia but, I want my father to hear the accomplishment from me first.

I dial his number, listening to the dial tone.

“Caleb.” He picks up, his tone flat.

“I, um, wanted to let you know that I signed the deal,” I say, pulling out my keys.

“That’s not something to be proud of. That was expected of you.”

I pause, the excitement draining from my chest. Not even a congratulations. I don’t know why I thought this time would be any different.

“You just better not fuck this up too.”

The line goes dead before I can even answer.

I lower the phone from my ear and stare at it. The pride I felt moments ago is gone, replaced by a hollow ache I’m way too familiar with.

This isn’t an accomplishment. It’s an expectation. My phone chimes and my mom’s name appears.

Mom

I’m so proud of you.

Thanks mom.

Mom

I’ll talk to your dad. He’s proud of you but you know how he can get and he only wants the best for you.

I snort. It’s always the same excuse. He can say whatever he wants, treat me however the hell he pleases, and it’s fine because he’s incapable of showing “emotions.”

To his own fucking son. Is it really that hard?

No need, it’s fine. I’ll see you soon. Love you.

Mom

Love you too.

Later that night, I put on my cologne, a black button-up with the sleeves cuffed, and black dress pants to get ready for the event tonight. I’m not as excited as I was earlier this morning but I get to see her, so that outweighs everything else.

I start the car, shifting the gear into drive, and head to her place.

I knock on her door a few times.

Silence.

Did she forget?

Knock.

Nothing .

Another knock, followed by three more.

The hallway was silent, the only sound coming from my knuckles tapping against the wooden door like a maniac.

Knock.

Okay, now she’s scaring me.

Knock.

What if she’s in the tub, and her goddamn Kindle fell in, and electrocuted her? Wait. Those are waterproof, right?

Kno—

“I’m so sorry!” The door swings open, and every single worry I just imagined vanishes in an instant. This woman will give me a heart attack one of these days.

“God,” I exhale, my pulse pounding like a damn drum. “I thought something happened to you.”

Instead of her laughing, I take a second to really take her in. She’s wearing a champagne-colored dress that pools at her ankles, paired with white heels, stunning as always. But, beneath all of that, she looks burnt out.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She grumbles, stepping aside to let me in. The moment I walk through the door, the state of her apartment speaks volumes…papers scattered across the kitchen table, her laptop overflowing with open tabs, and wired headphones dangling off the edge of the couch.

“Last minute work stuff.” She chuckles. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Let’s skip tonight.”

“Not a chance.” She shakes her head, adjusting my cuffs that came undone. “Work can wait.”

Loud music thrums around us as we step onto the rooftop deck and we’re immediately met with a giant Driftwear banner covering the entrance. As we move further inside, my teammates and I exchange nods and clap each other on the back.

“Our golden boy is here!” one of the guys calls out as he tips his wine in the air. “Congrats, man!”

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” The words being chanted over and over again as the team looks my way.

A laugh slips out as I shake my head, these guys are a mess. “Preciate you all for showing out.”

Marcus appears from the crowd, dancing his way over before his gaze flicks between Amelia and I. “You two want something to drink?”

“Not tonight.” Amelia waves her hand dismissing him with a small laugh. “Too much work to do.”

He tips an imaginary hat toward her. “Hard worker as always.”

“You know me.” She merely shrugs.

“Well, you two kids have fun.” He says before sauntering off to mingle with the rest of the team.

Holding Amelia’s hand, we make our way over to the bar, the shelves lined with the finest and most expensive liquor. They really went all out.

It feels strange to be celebrating…me.

“What can I get you two to drink?” A tall brunette approaches us with a small grin as we settle onto the stools.

Her eyes land on mine.

“Two waters please, thanks,” I reply, slipping two semi wrinkled fifty-dollar bills from my pocket, dropping them into the tip jar, and taking a seat.

“Coming right up,” she says with a suggestive tone. “You sure that’s all you want?”

Amelia shifts on the metal stool as she snatches a cocktail napkin off the table. “Yup.”

The bartender throws a glance her way before nodding and moving down the bar.

“You look upset.”

“Nope.” She shakes her head, crumpling the napkin in her hand. “I just think it’s distasteful of her to flirt with you right in front of me.”

“Flirting?”

We’re plastered all over socials, so it’s impossible for her to be working this event and not know I’m “taken.”

Either she’s been living under a rock or she simply doesn’t care.

Amelia gives me an unamused look. “Don’t play dumb.”

I hold in a smirk, rubbing my jaw. “She was being friendly.”

She lets out a dry laugh. “That wasn’t friendly . That was ‘if I wasn’t working right now I’d be asking you to take me right on the table’ friendly,” she says, adding air quotes to emphasize her point.

“Didn’t know you were paying that close attention.”

Her fingers pause, still gripping the napkin. “It was an observation.”

The bartender returns, setting down Amelia’s water first. A few buttons on her shirt now magically undone. “Here you go,” she purrs, leaning over the bar enough to make sure I notice her cleavage.

Her gaze locks with mine again, as she lowers her voice. “Let me know if you need anything else. And I mean anything.”

Amelia picks up her glass, taking a sharp sip, rolling her eyes. “We’re fine. That’s all.”

The woman hesitates leaving for a second, maybe waiting for me to flirt back.

“My girlfriend and I are good,” I say, reaching over to hold Amelia’s hand that’s resting on the table.

The woman’s smile fades, but she recovers quickly with a tight nod. “Of course.” She hurries off to serve the rest of the team.

The second she’s out of our earshot, Amelia sets down her drink with a sharp clink. Then, with a dramatic flutter of her lashes, she mimics. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“It didn’t sound like that.”

“Then you need to get your ears checked,” she mutters, tightening her hand around mine.

Is she…jealous? No. Impossible. She’s my “girlfriend.” Of course she’d be annoyed.

I trace my thumb over her knuckles, feeling the warmth of her hands. Strange heat creeps up my spine. I shift my gaze, desperate to find something else to focus on.

“Yo, what’s up.” Daren, one of the wide receivers, comes stumbling over draping an arm around my shoulder. I wasn’t even aware he was behind me. “That bartender is hot as hell.”

Amelia forces a smile, but it’s so tight I swear I can hear her teeth grinding.

Daren turns back to me with a long groan. “Man, maybe I should go ask for her number,” He nudges my arm before leaning down and whispering in my ear. “If you were single, would you?”

My body tenses and I feel Amelia’s eyes on me, wondering what the hell our conversation is about before she glances away, checking out the event.

“No,” I say cooly.

He snorts. “Why? She’s not your type?”

My eyes land on Amelia, who’s very much my type. My only type.

“I get it though, I wouldn’t be looking either if Amelia was mine. She’s looking sexy tonight,” Daren slurs. “Maybe we can share?—”

I clench my fists, shooting upright, looking straight into his eyes. “Lay off the fucking beer.”

This guy’s an idiot and drunk as hell tonight. Normally he’s a chill dude, but right now, all I want to do is smash my fist into his jaw.

Amelia stands up, confusion written all over her precious face.

Daren stumbles away, going over to Carter and Nico, before calling out behind him. “Joking dude reeeelax.”

“Hey, what happened?” she questions, looking up at me.

A few sharp clinks against glass draw our attention, over to Jackson Mitchell, CEO of Driftwear. He stands on the mini stage with a knife in hand. “May I have everyone’s attention, please?”

We all gather, our eyes fixed on the stage. I reach for Amelia’s hand, holding it as we shift closer.

“Partnering with Caleb Hayes is something we’re incredibly proud of,” Jackson says, gratitude and excitement lacing his words. “It’s truly a pleasure.”

Everyone claps and cheers, lifting their drinks in the air.

“Here’s to a great long-term partnership,” he adds, raising his wine glass. “Cheers.”

“Cheers!” I shout with a smile.

Jackson steps off the stage and makes a beeline toward Amelia and I. “Caleb and Amelia it’s nice to finally meet you both.” He offers a hand.

“You too, sir.” I say with a slight nod, meeting his handshake.

“Nice to meet you,” her voice soft beside me.

“I’m glad that this worked out for us.” Jackson says, taking a swig of his drink. “It was a tough decision and I don’t want to dwell on it but that situation wasn’t a good look for our brand.” He pauses for a beat. “We wanted you as an ambassador but you know we have a zero- scandal policy.”

“I understand,” I say. “Thank you for giving me a chance anyway.”

“Me too. It was nothing personal.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Anyway, I won’t take too much of your time. Congrats again and welcome to Driftwear.”

He walks off, and the moment his back is turned, Amelia tugs my arm letting out the smallest squeal. “You did it!”

It wouldn’t have been possible without her.

“We,” I correct her, my fingers brushing the side of her jaw as I gently pinch her chin. “We did it.”

Her eyes soften and a fire ignites in my chest. For the briefest moment I wonder if she’s thinking the same as I am. If maybe, this is more than we’ve let on.

Or maybe I’m imagining it.