Page 63

I said it as a joke—a way to lighten the mood after she let me in on some heavier shit, but I’m pretty sure I won’t want to let her go, either.

Attending a wedding in the Bahamas together where we’re going to be forced to act like we’re in love doesn’t seem like it’s going to be the thing that pushes us apart.

It’s only going to draw us closer together.

And for the first time in my life, I want that.

Harper and I have formed our own little family unit over the last month, and the way Victoria fits right in like the missing piece is both terrifying and electric.

“We still have nearly two months before we need to worry about all that,” she says.

I know she’s right, but I also know time is going to speed by. OTAs are in early June, but I’ll find a way to make it work. The Organized Team Activities are usually midweek, and even though they’re voluntary, with this new playbook and new offensive coordinator, I think it’s essential I’m there.

“What’s your family like?” I ask. We’re still holding hands, both of us holding a can in the hand that isn’t locked into each other, and I turn and gulp down some beer.

“Well, my parents are amazing. They’re both from Texas but moved to Vegas when my dad was transferred here, and they raised my sister and me here. They’ve been married twenty-nine years, and they’re still best friends to this day. My sister is one of my closest friends. She and her fiancé have been together since their freshman year of high school. They had their first kid when she turned twenty-two, and she had another two months ago. They’re staying with my parents while they have some work done on their house, so that’s why I’ve been at Mandy’s.”

“You would’ve stayed with them otherwise?” I ask.

She chews her bottom lip a little and nods. “We still each have a bedroom there, but Vanessa and Jake are in hers and they put the boys in mine.”

“You could stay here,” I say softly.

Her eyes dart to mine, and she looks confused for a beat—like she wants to say yes, but she thinks she shouldn’t. Like she’s still going to resist whatever this is even after everything we’ve been through tonight. “You don’t have room for me here…”

I shrug. “Then I’ll move.”

She laughs. “You say that so simply, like it’s just no big deal.”

“It’s not,” I say. “I’m renting this place until I know if the Aces are keeping me here in Vegas. But I’m starting to think I want to set down roots for Harper somewhere, anyway. I don’t want to take her away from Bella and the other kids she’s meeting. I don’t want to pull her out of her school just because I’m working somewhere else half the year. There are ways to manage all that. I just have to figure it out. You liked growing up here?”

She nods. “Away from the excitement of the Strip, this area was a great place to grow up. There’s no shortage of things to do, the cost of living is decent, and there’s no state income tax, which I’m sure you’ve noticed on your paychecks. But the best thing is the weather. It gets hot in the dead of summer, but the rest of the year is nearly perfect.” It feels a little like she’s selling me on it, but I don’t think I need to be sold.

I just need to know if she’s selling me on it because she wants us to stay.

And I say us because we’re a package deal. It’s Harper and me now, and whoever I eventually find, whether it’s Victoria or somebody else, will need to want that, too.

“What about your family? Where did you grow up?” she asks, and the question throws me.

She’s not meeting my family, but I guess the reason I asked about hers had less to do with the fact that I’m meeting them soon and more to do with the fact that I wanted to know more about her.

I’ve never cared about a woman’s family before. But with Victoria? I want to know every goddamn thing there is to know about her.

“Uh, I grew up in Los Angeles. I’m the product of two high-powered attorneys who really didn’t know how to deal with a kid who was smoking and drinking at the tender age of twelve, so they sent me away to boarding school.”

Her brows draw together. “What was that like?”

I shrug. “Not great.”

She squeezes my fingers with hers. “How bad?”

“I was lonely. If I thought I had it bad with Richard and Liliana, they had nothing on boarding school. That first year was devastating, but I got through it. I learned nobody really gave a fuck about me, and then I went to high school, also a boarding school, and I tried out for the football team. I had to stay clean, no drinking or smoking or drugs, and I often think football is what saved my life. The field feels like the only place I can truly be myself.”

At least it did …until this conversation right here, right now, with Victoria Hartley.

I don’t say that part out loud. Instead, I keep talking, keep sharing, keep confessing things I’ve told very few people before.

“The offensive coordinator ended up being more of a father than my own father ever was. Well, at least until my own father called to let me know I was given custody of a ten-year-old girl. Things have been…different between us since then. Better, I guess.” I lift a shoulder at the end.

“This offensive coordinator,” she says, her brows knit together. “What was his name?”

“Coach Barrett. He’d tell us to hustle.” I let go of her hand to show her the word on my arm, and then I point to the one that says be the victor, not the victim. “This was his phrase, too.”

“Was?”

I nod. “He passed my senior year during playoffs. We won the state championship for him.” I hear the emotion choking my voice just like it always does when I talk about him.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmurs. She takes my hand back in hers, and she kisses my knuckles again.

“He never got to see me make it all the way, but he was the first person who ever believed I could. I still play every game for him. Or I did, anyway. Now I have a little girl I’ll be playing for, too.” I sniffle as I glance away from her toward the television that’s currently off. I’m not used to letting it all out like this since there have been very few people who’ve ever cared enough to ask. It feels…strange.

It feels like it’s drawing me closer to her.

It feels like it’s putting me in a situation I won’t be able to climb back out of…in a situation I’m not sure I want to climb back out of.

“That might be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” she says softly, and when I look back at her, she’s brushing away a tear.

My chest tightens at the raw emotion we’re sharing here tonight.

It was a terrifying night, and I called on her to be there for us.

She came to stand by my side through the scariest hour of my life.

She came home with us to make sure Harper was okay. To make sure I was okay.

She stayed.

She cares.

For the first time in my life, I feel like someone cares about me . Not because I’m good at football. Not because I have money in the bank. Not because I’m a decent lay or because I’m some conquest to be bragged about.

I feel it. She’s falling for me—for us —as much as I— we— are falling for her.

She’s the missing piece in our little family. I just need to help her see that. I get her reticence after what she just went through with her ex. He sounds like a real douchebag, and my reputation has preceded me. I’m sure to her, I look like a douchebag, too—or at least I did until tonight, maybe.

I want to show her not all men will treat her the way her ex did.

I want to prove to her that I’m not the guy she thinks I am.

I want to show her how perfect we could be together.

I want to let myself fall in love with her. I’m halfway there already—maybe even more than that, really—and as scary as it is, I have faith that it will work for us. I just don’t know that she’s in the same place as me. I don’t know if she’s ready to take the risk so soon after she ended things with her ex.

I let go of her hand and slide my hand around her neck, pulling her a little closer to me. My thumb is on the smooth skin of her cheek, and I can’t help but stare into her blue eyes for a beat before I lean down and tenderly take her lips with mine.

The other kisses we’ve had were filled with passion and heat, but it wasn’t a passion like this one. This is slow. It’s soft. It’s gentle, and it’s filled with the sort of warmth and adoration I don’t know I’ve ever experienced before.

Our tongues tango together in a kind of sensual dance, the kind of dance I never want to stop. My dick rises to the occasion as he tells me to take it to the next level, but my brain wants to stay right here with her, allowing the two of us to express what we’re feeling in this brand-new way after we’ve shared so much with each other tonight.

And that’s when we both hear it.

“Travis? And Ms. Hartley?”

Ah shit.