Page 11

He Remembers Everything

What exactly is one supposed to wear ring shopping?

This feels sort of pivotal. I know we went out to dinner last night, but this feels like our first outing as a couple—or at least the first that might garner some attention.

Miller isn’t just some average dude. He’s Miller Freaking Banks, star running back for the San Diego Storm, number twenty-three, heartbreaker extraordinaire.

He’s made People Magazine ’s list of sexiest athletes more than once.

He’s been approached to appear on dating shows.

He’s frequently featured on celebrity gossip sites and channels because people are curious about the hot bachelor twin brothers who’ve played together their entire careers.

And now?

He’s my fiancé.

I, on the other hand…well, I am just an average girl. I’m a former teacher who likes to spend time with the characters I create rather than most people. I love animals and want to get a dog, but, as a teacher, I was always worried I’d never be home long enough to care for it .

I still dress up for Halloween, I prefer sour gummy candy over chocolate, I can’t hide what I’m thinking, I love sparkly things, I burn popcorn every time I make it, and I adore boy bands to this day.

That’s it. That’s me in a nutshell.

Miller shares a lot of those same things in common with me, but there’s a huge difference.

He’s a professional athlete for arguably the biggest sport in the US, and since he’s a star on his team and an attractive guy, that elevates him into a different stratosphere entirely.

Which means that I’m engaged to a celebrity.

I don’t have any training on this. I don’t know how to handle the media or people firing questions at me. I don’t know how to smile on command for hours at a time or how to act like I’m happy if I’m not.

And I don’t know what to wear when I go ring shopping.

I don’t have enough clothes to play the part of a celebrity’s girlfriend. Maybe I can go shopping this weekend and dig into some of my savings since I’m not paying rent right now.

I also need to learn how to cook, but I can only tackle one issue at a time here.

I settle on a long, flowing dress with flowers on it, and I pair it with a denim jacket. It’s casual but trendy at the same time, and I slip on a pair of white sandals.

This will have to do.

Just before I head downstairs, my phone rings. I check it, and it’s Brooke, one of the teachers in my department and my closest female friend.

Or…my former department. Maybe my former friend. God, this is complicated.

When I graduated from Arizona State University, most of my friends scattered. Over the eight years since we graduated, life moved on. Some of my friends got married and started having kids, and others moved on to one failed relationship after another. And by “others,” I mean me .

Regardless, we grew apart, and we made new friends wherever we landed. For me, it was Cactus Valley High School, the place where I’ve spent my entire career teaching.

I made friends. Teachers came and went, but Brooke started the same year as me, and we’ve been through all the ups and downs of this career together.

Until now.

I glance at the clock. She’s on her prep hour, and that’s why she’s calling me now.

I should’ve called her when it all went down, but I didn’t. I called Miller instead.

“Hey,” I answer a little weakly.

“What the hell is going on?” she demands. “Where are you?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Spill it, Summers.”

I blow out a breath. The truth is, well…I haven’t even told her about my secret pen name. Literally only Tyler and Miller knew.

I guess I’m good at keeping secrets.

“I broke up with Tyler.” Best to start at the beginning. I’m not sure whether I want to admit the rest.

“So you took the day off? I gotta tell you, babe, rumors are flying about what’s going on with you.”

“I’m, uh…” I trail off, not sure where to go next, but ultimately I settle on the truth. “Can you promise you won’t tell this to anyone?”

I have a feeling she’ll say she promises but won’t follow through, and I’m not even sure how much it matters at this point.

She’s probably my closest girlfriend, but between my job and my hobby, I haven’t exactly nurtured friendships the way I should have. But maybe she deserves the truth even if we aren’t working together anymore.

“I’ve been secretly publishing romance books under a pen name for a few years, and Tyler knew.

He posted about it on my student message board after I broke up with him.

Elizabeth called me to let me know I was on administrative leave until they could investigate, and rather than sit through a lengthy investigation that would only out my pen name in one of the most conservative communities in the state… I resigned.”

“Jesus, that’s a lot to unpack.” She’s silent a few beats before she murmurs, “You resigned?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God, Sophie. Are you okay?”

I feel the heat of tears pinch behind my eyes, but the truth is…yes. I am okay. And even if I’m not, I have Miller to be okay for me, just like he told me yesterday. "I’m okay.”

“Where are you now?” she asks. “Can we grab lunch and talk this weekend?”

“I’m actually in San Diego right now. I called a friend, and he invited me to stay with him while all this blows over.”

“He?”

I clear my throat. “My friend Miller.”

“Banks?” she asks. She knows exactly who I mean when I say Miller . For as much as I’ve kept my pen name a secret, I never kept my friendship with the pro football player a secret.

“Yes.”

“So have you gotten naked with him yet, or are you still waiting?”

“Oh my God, Brooke!” I yell.

She laughs. “Sorry. I have to keep things light. But really. Have you admitted you’re in love with him? ”

I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. We’re just friends, and it’s a conversation we’ve had a million times. “I need to go. I’m meeting Miller in a few minutes.”

She sighs. “Give that dreamy butt a squeeze for me. And really, babe, I’m going to miss having you next door. Maybe you can un-resign and come back when all this blows over?” she asks.

“I miss you already, too,” I say. “And we never know what the future holds. Maybe I’ll be back after all.”

“What’s this secret pen name?” she asks.

“Ask the students. I’m sure someone caught it before I took it down.”

She huffs out a breath. “Fine. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will.” I hang up, feeling a bit of nostalgia as I think about how even though I just told her that maybe I’ll be back…something tells me I won’t be.

I fluff my hair, put on a little more lip gloss, and head down to the kitchen to meet my fiancé for this outing.

He’s standing in the kitchen wearing khaki shorts and a black shirt, and what is it about khaki and black that makes him look so hot?

No, Sophie. No. I need somebody to snap me out of this.

I blow out a breath, and his jaw slackens a little when he sees me. “You, uh…you look great, Soph. Really leaning into the part.”

My brows crinkle together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He lifts a shoulder. “Nothing. Ready?”

“Let’s do this.”

He navigates us toward downtown San Diego, and it’s a tour of the town I wasn’t expecting. We drive near the water, and then he cuts up a side street and slides into a parking spot. We walk a block until we find ourselves in front of a jewelry store .

“My brother recommended this place,” he says, and I glance over at him.

“Your brother has a jeweler?”

“Didn’t I tell you? He just got engaged.”

My jaw drops. “What?”

He nods. “Yeah. He proposed the night of our birthday, actually.”

I touch my forehead in embarrassment. “Two nights ago? As in the night I called you and you came running for me?”

He slings his arm around my shoulders and squeezes me in a side hug. “Trust me, he didn’t need me there for whatever came after she said yes.”

“I can’t believe Tanner is engaged.” I guess I didn’t see him settling down first.

“Get this. She’s seven years older than him and has two kids.”

My eyes widen. Holy hell. Good for him. And her.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

“She’s amazing. She’s a physical therapist. She helped him recover from his ACL injury last year. She’s a great mom, too, and she and I have gotten close. Her name’s Cassie. I’ll ask Tanner when they’re free, and maybe we can get together for dinner.”

“I would love that. I haven’t seen Tanner in years.”

“You haven’t missed much,” he says dryly, and I laugh.

We walk into the jewelry store, and we’re greeted by a salesperson who introduces herself as Charlene. “What can I help you with today?”

“We’re looking at engagement rings,” Miller says.

“Congratulations,” she says warmly. “Did you have something in mind?”

We glance at each other and shrug, and Miller takes the lead.

“Can we see what you have? This is our first time doing this.” He glances at me.

“When we were in college, she and her friends all designed their dream engagement rings. She wanted a princess cut back then, one with diamonds all around the center stone and down the band.”

“A fine choice. We have something like that over here,” Charlene says, but I barely hear her because… what ?!?

He remembers that? I hardly remember doing it, but he remembers everything down to the cut I liked.

Princess cut is classic. It’s square and sparkly and lovely, and part of me wants to tell him that no…I want the princess cut for my real engagement. I want that to be the ring I wear forever, not for whatever it is we’re doing here.

But I can’t make myself stop this train.

“We have this gorgeous ring here with a three-carat princess cut diamond in the center. It has an additional two carats of diamonds down the shank and around the halo,” Charlene tells us.

That’s it. That’s the ring.

My eyes widen and get a little misty as they fall on it.

It’s the dream one, the one I created on a website all those years ago. It’s the one I dreamed I’d wear forever when the man of my dreams slid it onto my finger one day.

But I haven’t really met any dreamy men worthy of slipping a ring onto my finger. The only guy worthy of sticking a ring on my finger is doing it purely for show.

Is this just kicking my goals of being a wife and a mother down the road? We haven’t talked about what this fake engagement really means. We haven’t discussed how long we’re going to keep up the act.

Hell, I don’t even know how long I’m going to stay here in San Diego playing house with Miller.

He glances over at me, sees that I’m overwhelmed with emotion, and turns back to Charlene. “We’ll take it.”