Page 17

It's Just a Story

We picked up her ring last weekend. I always sort of figured I’d only pop the question once in my life, and I didn’t have the nerve to get down on a knee and ask her to marry me. Instead, I simply handed her the ring when we got into the car, and she slipped it onto her finger.

It’s not exactly how I imagined proposing to Sophie Summers, and believe me…I’ve imagined it.

“Holy shit,” she’d breathed as she held her hand up. The rock practically blinded me in the driver’s seat, and it’s gorgeous on her finger. It just looks right…which is why it’s such a fucking punch to the gut that it’s fake.

I locked that into a box in my mind as I plowed through the next couple of weeks, meeting with my publicist about the ideas Sophie and I have drafted about a summer camp and getting a move on with plans.

Tara thinks if we plan it right, we could even launch the first camp mid-June.

It’s three months away, but she has an entire team ready to help plan this thing.

With Sophie helping me on the curriculum, I think we have a shot at really launching it .

I put my all into planning it over the next couple of weeks with the help of Sophie, Tara, and some of the people on her team, and I find myself standing in my kitchen in my tux with a glass of whiskey while I wait for her on the night of the SDSYS charity event.

When she walks into the room, it feels like the wind is knocked clean from my lungs. It’s a harder hit than the last time I was tackled by a linebacker when I tried carrying the ball into the red zone.

She’s wearing a black dress that’s sort of shaped like a heart over her tits.

It has tiny straps over her shoulders and a ruffly skirt with a sky-high slit that nearly shows me all the goods but still manages to keep them hidden.

Her dark hair is curled into waves that cascade down her delicate shoulders, and her big, brown eyes are lined with darker makeup than usual.

Fuck, she’s hot.

And tonight, she’s my date.

My fiancée.

And I will make damn sure everyone at the event knows it—especially with that ring on her finger.

“You look so handsome,” she says softly when she spots me. She walks up to me and adjusts my tie, and I was pretty sure it looked fine before. I can’t help but wonder if she’s making up an excuse to touch me. Surely it’s just my overactive imagination at play.

“You’re gorgeous, Soph,” I say. My eyes fall to hers, and that searing heat between us appears to be back.

Fuck, I have got to get control over myself. I grab my whiskey and chug what’s left—probably a mistake given that I have to spend the night with her, but a little dulling of the nervous system seems to be exactly what I need right now.

“Thanks,” she says.

“Can I get you a drink before we go? ”

She nods. “I’d love maybe just a quick shot of your whiskey or something. I’m nervous to meet all these football players.”

I laugh. “They’re really just a bunch of disgusting overgrown boys.”

She raises a brow. “Including yourself?”

I shake my head. “Of course not. But Tanner? Definitely.”

She giggles. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.”

“Go for it. He’ll agree.” I slide a glass over to her, and I tip the bottle of whiskey over both our glasses. I hold mine up. “To another fun night.”

“To all the football players,” she counters.

I narrow my eyes at her. “To the only football player you’ll be going home with.”

She looks taken aback for a beat, so I backpedal.

“Because we live together. And, you know…because we’re engaged.”

She clinks her glass to mine, and her eyes meet mine. “Yeah. Because of that.” Her voice is sort of an echo, but there’s something in her eyes I can’t quite read.

A limo takes us to the event, and a half hour later, we’re pulling in. I get out of the car and rush around to her door to open it, and then we walk the red carpet. Her cold hand slips into mine as photos are taken and questions are fired.

“Miller, is it true you’re engaged? Is this your fiancée?” someone asks, and I turn toward him.

“Yes and yes. Her name is Sophie Summers, and I’m the luckiest man in the world that she said yes.” Even though I never asked. Technicalities.

“When’s the wedding?” someone else asks.

“Soon,” Sophie says, and there’s more warmth and confidence in her voice than I was expecting.

We head inside, take some more photos, and get into the ballroom, where I spot Tanner near the bar talking to Spencer Nash, our teammate and one of the four half-brothers we only learned about a little over a year ago when we learned Eddie Nash was our birth father.

Eddie passed away at the end of last year before Tanner and I got the chance to get to know him, and it’s something I’ve struggled with over the last few months, to be honest.

But having Sophie here has helped. I’ve barely thought of those struggles at all since she’s been here. All I’ve thought about is her, and tonight is no different as I watch her walk, my eyes falling to the dangerous slit in her dress.

All I can do is imagine my palm sliding along that thigh until I get to where the slit ends, but my hand won’t stop there. It’ll keep going as I pull the heart-shaped neckline down with my other hand and suck one of her tits into my mouth.

I need to get a handle on these thoughts. I beeline toward my brothers at the bar, and Tanner and I share our typical secret handshake greeting. I turn to Spencer next, who bro-hugs me, and then I introduce Sophie.

“This is my fiancée, Sophie Summers,” I say. “Sophie, my secret half-brother, Spencer Nash.”

Spencer chuckles at my introduction as he shakes Sophie’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She looks a bit awestruck as she says, “I’m such a huge fan of you and your brothers.” Her cheeks are flushed, and I strike that feeling of jealousy right out of my chest as I wonder how I can make her cheeks flush like that.

“This is my wife, Grace,” he says, and the women shake hands and exchange pleasantries while I greet Cassie.

“You doing okay?” Tanner murmurs only loud enough for me to hear him.

I nod. “Fine. ”

“You two look good together,” he says, leaving a hint of suggestion in his tone. My eyes meet his, and I give him a what-the-fuck-am-I-supposed-to-do-about-it kind of look.

“We’re just friends,” I insist.

“‘Just friends’ don’t look at each other the way you two do.”

I roll my eyes, and I’m about to pop off about how she got all embarrassed when she started talking to Spencer, but we lose the moment as she returns to my side.

I glance down at her, and she’s looking up at me, and is Tanner right?

Is she looking at me like that?

Because I know I’m certainly looking at her like that.

“Drink?” I ask, and she nods.

“Just a glass of wine. Something sweet.”

“Oh, I know all about wine,” Grace says, and she links her arm through Sophie’s as she escorts her over to the bar. “I’ll take a whiskey,” I say after them, and Sophie turns and winks at me.

“She’s not looking at me like that,” I mutter to Tanner.

“You want to bet?” he challenges. “If only you could see it how I do.”

“We keep having these moments. A couple of kisses, always for someone else’s benefit. But it always seems like it’s just the feelings I’ve always had for her at play,” I admit.

“Have you ever thought that maybe she’s got those same feelings?”

I shake my head because the truth is no. Until the last few days, I never once thought that.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” he asks.

“I could lose her forever.” I shrug, the motion minimizing the actual pain that slices through my chest at the mere thought of it.

“Or you could have everything you’ve ever wanted forever.” He also shrugs at the end as he gives me a pointed look. He’s not wrong, I guess. It’s just two very extreme options, and right now, the middle, where I am, feels the most comfortable.

Because what if he’s right, and we try, and I get to hold onto what I’ve wanted for half my life…and then it doesn’t work out?

“Sophie’s a good one, Miller. Don’t you think she wouldn’t let this come between you either way? Take the leap, man. Get over those fears in your head.”

I glance at Cassie. “Like you did?” It’s my turn to raise a pointed brow.

“Hey, it all worked out in the end.” He sips his tequila, and then Sophie returns and presses a glass of whiskey into my palm.

I drink it faster than I should.

She walks with me as I introduce her to different teammates, and we take our seats for dinner.

There’s one player at every table, and this is part of the VIP experience.

Fans bid on the chance to sit at their favorite player’s table, and I’m thrilled that there are eight fans waiting for me as I pull out Sophie’s chair first, then take my own seat.

A hush falls over the table as we sit, and I break the silence with my announcement. “Hey everyone, I’m Miller, and this is my fiancée, Sophie. Thanks for choosing to sit with us.”

“Oh, congratulations!” one woman at the table says to us, and then we dive into a conversation about how Sophie and I met.

I’m dreading the moment someone asks how I proposed because I realize only now we never drafted a story for that.

I should really have more faith in my fiancée, the storyteller.

“So how’d he propose?” that same woman asks Sophie.

Without missing a beat, she starts to gush .

“Oh my God, I was just waiting for someone to ask so I could share the amazing story,” Sophie says.

“I was back home in Phoenix, and I’d just broken up with this guy who it had been over with for a long, long time.

I called Miller because he’s just always who I turn to, and he flew in immediately to just be there for me.

The next morning, he took me to the high school where we met, and he held my hand as he pulled me into the classroom where we first met.

It was empty, and we sat in the desks we sat in sixteen years ago when we were in that freshman English class, and he said the sweetest, kindest words to me. ”

She glances over at me, and I see the hearts in her eyes. Either she’s a really, really good actress…or Tanner is right.

She reaches over and squeezes my hand.

Kiss her .

I do it. I lean down and press a gentle kiss to her lips before she continues, and she looks just the slightest bit dazed as she pulls back to finish the story.

“Then he said, ‘I don’t have a ring, but it’s always been you, Soph.

Will you marry me?’” She lifts both shoulders.

“How could I say no to that when I realized it had always been him for me, too?”

Jesus Christ.

I know it’s just a story. It’s just words for the benefit of these people at this table.

But she still said it. It’s always been me for her, just the way it’s always been her for me.

It’s fake. It’s a lie. It’s pretend.

And yet…it’s also the purest truth she’s spoken tonight.

I blow out a breath as I slide an arm around her shoulders. “She said yes.” I grin my goofy grin at the people at the table, and she leans in and lays her head on my shoulder.

“You two are so perfect together,” the woman says. “You can just see the love you have for each other.”

Really? Can you ?

I mean, of course you can. It’s true—we love each other. But there are different categories of love, and I fear mine falls into a different one than hers does.

I respond by kissing her again, and she slides her chilly hand along my jawline. I think about deepening the kiss. I want to feel her tongue against mine again.

But it’s getting hot enough in here, and I can’t exactly get indecent with her in front of a bunch of fans.

A little more whiskey and a little more time, though, and maybe I can tonight when we’re back at home together.

Maybe tonight’s the night I finally admit the truth after sixteen long years.