Page 22

Chapter 21

Lily

I knew we were going to be photographed.

There are always so many cameras in the friends-and-family area just waiting to capture something intimate or unexpected, and well, I guess Tyler stopping in front of me and holding up his pinky was definitely unexpected.

For the past couple of weeks, rumors have continued to swirl about Dean and me, and then speculated why I was at a Tarpons event. Of course, Dean released a statement saying that we had ended our eight-year relationship, which immediately set the internet on fire. Everyone wanted to know why, and then as the pictures of me at the barbecue went viral, the Dean Davis fan club hauled out their pitchforks.

You name it, I was called everything under the sun—a disgrace, a traitor, a whore, and a cleat chaser. As much as I’ve ignored the chatter, I didn’t foresee the way this picture would turn out. The picture that seems to have taken the sports world by storm.

I’ll admit, it’s a great photo of the two of us, but what people don’t seem to understand is that there isn’t a two of us. At least I don’t think so.

Flipping on my phone, I again glance down at the picture that Morgan sent me. There are hundreds of this exact photo of Dean and me pregame in the friends-and-family section, only those photos never looked like this one. Those looked disconnected and even rushed, and as the years passed, the kisses went from my lips to my forehead. At the time, I thought it was sweet, but now I’m not so sure. This picture looks intimate and, dare I even say, sexy.

Tilting my head, I twist the phone back and forth as if that’s going to change the angle or the image. Maybe it was where this particular photographer was positioned, but we look like we’re standing a lot closer than we were. At least I don’t remember being this close to him. We’re so close our stomachs are almost touching. His finger is wrapped around mine and sitting squarely between us, but his gaze as he stares down at me makes me want to fan myself. If I didn’t know any better, which I do, I would say it looks like his dark eyes are smoldering. His eyelids have dropped a little, the corner of his mouth on the side of his face that’s visible to the viewer is turned up, and he looks so freaking good with his bicep popping underneath that jersey that even I feel swayed from what this moment actually was.

Of course, Morgan was like, “OH MY GOD,” falling into the trap of clickbait and social media. I had to reassure her that nothing had happened between us and I wasn’t keeping secrets from her. Are we closer since I moved here? Yes, but that’s to be expected after living with someone for over two months. Do I feel more for him than I used to? Yes. How could I not? He’s been amazing to me and my situation, and if I’m reading him right, I don’t think he hates me being here. I don’t feel like an inconvenience to him. In fact, I feel quite the opposite.

Speaking of living, this is a conversation that he and I need to have sooner rather than later. People will come out of the woodwork, and once they find out that we’re living together too, it won’t even matter what we say. The world is going to believe what they want.

Which is why I waited for him in the living room to get home from his run and quickly shower.

Today is Tuesday and Tyler’s day off. I don’t know what I expected after the media went to town on him, but I thought he would want to be more low-key and stay in the house. Instead, he’s acted like nothing is different, and he couldn't care less what anyone says about him. He went to practice yesterday and came home happy, then he went out and got us donuts to go with coffee this morning. When he left for his run, he told me that he had somewhere for us to be after he got back. He wouldn’t tell me where, but I figure wherever we’re going, I’ll have time in the truck with him to talk about this. That’s where we are now.

“So you’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask. He’s been entirely too chipper this morning, and the dumb smile on his face definitely tells me he’s up to something.

“Nope.” He has one hand slung over the top of the steering wheel, while his other arm is propped up on the center console. He looks relaxed in a way that’s hot and unsettling at the same time.”

“How long will it take us to get there?” I ask, looking out the window as if I have any recollection of where we’re going. I don’t, as I haven’t been to many places.

“Maybe twenty to thirty minutes.” He pushes up his sunglasses and turns his hat around so it sits backward on his head. He didn’t shave today, and there’s scruff across his jaw. Not only does he look relaxed but he looks good too. Too good.

“Okay, then there’s something I want to talk to you about.” I angle to face him.

He glances over at me, and his brows pop up over his glasses. “All right.”

“You know I’ve started searching for a place to live. Tampa definitely feels like the place I’m meant to be for the foreseeable future, and it’s settling in nicely to my new plan. While you’ve been very generous, it’s been two months, and I think I’m well past the point of now needing to pay for rent and part of the utilities.”

His hand shifts to grip the wheel, and then it tightens. “No,” he says without even looking at me. The sun is bright today, and as we drive east, it’s streaming into the cab of the truck.

“Why not? That’s only fair,” I counter.

He shakes his head a little, pinches his lips together, and then says, “You cook for me. That’s good enough.”

“No, it’s not, and you know it.” While I do buy most of our groceries since I plan the meals, he still buys us takeout some nights and lets me live with him for free. For. Free.

“Lily.” His voice turns stern. “I’m not letting you pay for anything. If I came to stay with you, would you make me pay?”

Of course he has to throw out some reverse psychology on me. “Well, no, but I’m not just staying with you. I’m now pretty much living with you. Two months is a long time.”

“It doesn’t feel like it’s been two months, and honestly, I like having you there.”

My heart thumps in my chest. See, I was reading him correctly.

“Really?”

His right shoulder shrugs. “Yeah. I’m pleasantly surprised. Turns out, I don’t hate having a roommate after all.” He glances at me again and gives me a small grin.

This. This is coming from the guy who I know without a doubt hates roommates and was pretty much placed under duress by guilt from his best friend into this scenario. Maybe it’s that he still hates roommates, but he doesn’t hate me.

“Roommates pay for their half.”

He thinks about this and then shocks me when he says, “Speaking of roommates. You know you don’t have to leave, right? I feel like we had a trial period, and things are going well, so you should just stay and not move out.”

He wants me to stay.

My heart thumps again, and butterflies awaken in my stomach.

When Dean and I were preparing to move to DC, he said, “I guess it makes more sense for us to just live together. I don’t want to have to worry about being photographed every time I try to go to your place or when you come to mine.” It wasn’t a grand gesture of love or taking our relationship to the next level—it was a convenience thing. Not that I’m saying Tyler asking me to stay is because he loves me, but I feel it’s more like he wants me there, and that’s a really nice feeling.

“I do like your house, but I don’t want to be in your way.”

His house with his gorgeous fish tank, the homey feel, his dock for yoga and, well, him. I like seeing him every day.

“Do you feel like you’re in my way?” he asks.

“Not yet, but you never know,” I tell him, not wanting to voice how he hasn’t brought anyone home since I’ve been there, and I’m not sure I could stomach it if he did.

“You’re fine. I like having you there. I like being able to watch over you . . . not that you need it,” he tosses out. “It’s just nice to have you around.”

Those dancing butterflies begin to flap their wings in giant sweeping movements.

“I like being around you, too,” I tell him, and he rolls his lips between his teeth as he’s watching the road, then pops them free.

“Then it’s settled. You’re staying.”

“I guess I’m staying.”

At least for now.

About ten minutes later, we exit the expressway into the middle of nowhere. My eyes are wide open, as I have no idea where he’s taking us until he slows down to turn and pull through the gate of a farm titled: Happiness at the Lake.

“What are we doing here?” I ask as I look around. There are large old oak trees, an old Southern house with a wraparound porch and rocking chairs, two barns in front of us, a pavilion, and a lake behind all of that. There aren’t any other cars here, so I don’t know what’s going on.

“I did a thing,” he says, almost sheepishly.

I turn to face him better. “Elaborate.”

“After the team barbecue, you were a little down. I was worried about how you would be after the media blowup over the weekend. So I found this farm and they have a thing where you can rent a baby goat for the day or overnight, and well, I rented you a baby goat.”

His cheeks blot pink.

“You what?” I’m so shocked. My jaw drops open, and I could totally catch flies.

“Obviously, you can’t keep it, but I saw how you were yesterday, and although you’re doing better than I thought, this might reset your mind and cheer you up.”

I should be taking a moment to think about how thoughtful he was to come up with this because he was worried about me, but instead, I’m totally stuck on baby goats.

“You can rent baby goats?” I tear my eyes away from him and look back out over the property. Off in the distance is a fenced area with a few full-sized goats grazing.

“Yes. At this place at least. I was going to go pick one up and just bring it home to surprise you, but then I thought you’d probably like to pick out which goat you wanted instead.”

“I get to pick one out?” I ask in awe.

“Yes.” A smile tips up one side of his mouth. “But not keep it,” he reminds me.

“Tyler,” I say breathlessly, “I’m so excited, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“When you first moved in, I found you watching videos of baby goats, and when I asked you why, you said it’s because they make you happy. Well, I was thinking a real baby goat might make you even happier. I like making you happy.”

Not being able to help myself, I lean over and reach for him. He willingly lets me hug him. He’s warm and smells like soap, and my eyes prick with grateful and thankful tears.

“You’re a good man, Tyler Quinn.”

“I try to be,” he says quietly.

Pulling back, I look at him as seriously as I can. “Chickens make me happy, too.”

His laughter fills the cab of the truck.

Eventually, we get out, and he leads us in the direction of the large barn. Inside are all kinds of animals—horses, cows, a donkey, chickens running around, and of course goats. Big standard goats, and then in the middle is a pen set up to hold the baby goats.

“Baaaa,” they bleat at us as we approach, and my heart races. There are six baby goats, and I’m over the moon by their cuteness.

“Welcome,” a woman says, entering the barn from the opposite side. “You all made good time getting here this morning.”

“Traffic was light,” Tyler tells her.

“Would you like to hold them?” the woman asks, smiling in a way that a grandmother smiles at someone they love, and then I feel my hand being squeezed. Looking down, I see I’m holding Tyler’s hand, or he’s holding mine, as I’m not sure when or why this happened. My eyes climb to find his, and they’re wide and pleased. He knows I’m loving every minute of this and not even allowing myself the time to freak out over what his holding my hand might mean.

“Go ahead,” he says. “Pick which one you want.”

Which one I want. I want them all. I want to beg him to let me keep them forever, even though we aren’t together, and he and I are not for forever, but still, at this moment, I feel like he’s the person I should be asking.

“Baaaa.”

“I think I want to hold that one,” I tell her. It’s the smallest baby, and it’s black and white.

She bends over and picks up the goat and hands it to me. “This is Luna.”

Next to me, I see that Tyler has his phone out and is taking pictures.

I’m not quite sure how to hold her, but I tuck her up against my chest and snuggle her tight.

“She’s so sweet,” I tell the lady, and she smiles at us.

“Luna is very sweet. She likes to play, but she’s not too crazy. Tonight, she’ll sleep when you sleep, and she might take a few naps throughout the day, but mostly, she’s ready to go.”

“I feel a little nervous. I don’t know how to care for her.”

“Don’t be nervous. Tyler and I already talked this through, so he has a good idea, and baby goats are fairly easy. I have all of her things packed and that includes a one-pager on do’s and don’ts, when to feed her, things like that.”

“Wow,” I tell them, as I tuck my face next to Luna’s. She smells like lavender and not a barn. “When do I need to bring her back?” I ask, looking at them both.

“You don’t. We offer Guber service. Get it, Goats and Uber.” She chuckles to herself. “You just let me know when is good for you tomorrow, and we’ll come pick her up.”

“This all seems so easy,” I tell them, while only having eyes for Luna.

“It really is,” she says.

“Baaaa.”

“Would you like me to take a picture of the three of you?” she asks. You can tell this isn’t her first rodeo. She’s prepared to get us in and out, and knows all the moves.

“Yes, please,” Tyler says.

He hands over his phone, and the three of us pose together. I can’t wait to show this to Morgan. She is going to die. And then I remember Vivi.

I turn to him. “We have to go to Jonah’s.”

He smiles. “I already gave him a heads-up. He said we can swing by later when she gets home from school.”

“Oh, school. I forgot about that.” I laugh. I’m so happy.

Tyler pets the top of Luna’s head. His hand is so large it covers almost a third of her.

“I bet two months ago you never imagined yourself on a farm picking up a goat,” I tease.

“No, that’s for sure.” His hand settles on my lower back, and I love that he feels comfortable enough to put it there.

“Lexi is going to be so excited when I tell her.” I look up at him, and he grimaces.

“Maybe we don’t share this little outing with my teammates' wives,” he pleads, and I laugh again.

“Okay. I promise to let some time pass before I talk about it, but don’t be surprised when you find Luna on my social media pages.”

“I won’t be surprised at all.”