Page 24

Chapter 23

Lily

T his week has been so good. So, so good.

Tyler was right. I needed the reset of Luna. Everything that I had been worried about or uncomfortable over slipped away as the joy and endorphins of the tiny animal took over. All those things, they just didn’t matter anymore and the result was instantaneous. I went to lunch with Camille and Lexi, and didn’t worry at all about who might see me. I got back out on the dock for some yoga, and I sent my finished first draft to the editor. Morgan and I designed my favorite cover of all my books. We launched the title, cover, and release date to the world with a preorder. So far, I have the highest number of orders since I began this career, and everyone has gone crazy over the pictures of Luna.

Once Tyler told me Jonah spilled the tea to his friends, I posted a reel of pictures and short videos of her time with us. Of course I didn’t show our faces, and the footage was taken at Jonah’s, but it didn’t matter because she became a star.

Most of my social media up until this point has been book-related teasers and graphics. For each of the other two series, I did post a few shots of myself, but it wasn’t that many. We took a bunch in different outfits at the ranch in Wyoming, so for each release in the series, I wasn’t wearing the same thing, and we also went to a couple of different hockey games. One game, Dean gave Morgan and me the tickets, and they included a behind-the-scenes pass for when the players were making their way to and from the locker room. Morgan got a lot of shots of the players, without their faces, of their skates, sticks, all the things that would make for great teaser images. But over the past couple of months, it’s the subtle pictures that I’ve posted of my legs in the lawn chair at the lake, me holding a cider donut with the logo behind it, me here in Tampa with palm trees as the main part of the image, me walking out of an image with an inspirational quote on the wall, and of Luna that get the most interactions. The book ones are great, but it really feels like people want to know more about me.

This is why when I open an unexpected email addressed to my pen name, it doesn’t feel that unexpected at all.

“Dear Ms. Keegan. My name is Julia, and I’m the owner of Between the Pages, an independent bookstore in New York City. I would love the opportunity to speak with you about hosting a launch party for your upcoming new release Love at the Lake , book one of the Lake Loon series. While I know you have remained anonymous in your appearance, I was wondering if this is an indefinite plan of yours or if you might be open to an in-person signing? I know this is a little short notice, with your book releasing in less than a month, but my team and I have some fun ideas we’d like to run past you and could have the invitations out ASAP. Here is my personal cell phone number. I do hope you’ll consider joining us, and I very much hope to hear back from you soon.”

Between the Pages.

Every indie author knows this bookstore. It’s TikTok and Instagram famous, and people come from all over to go to this store. I’ve only seen them host a handful of releases, and I’m so wowed and honored that they want to host one of mine too. Me.

What is this life?

Looking across the living room, I find my favorite fish happily swimming with his friends, and as crazy as it sounds, I draw a parallel between that fish and me. I am happy living in a bubble being surrounded by my friends and keeping my world small. For so many years, I stood in the shadow of Dean, but even as I stood there and was visible to everyone, it was small. Now, although Tyler and I have created some media noise, it will die down, too. I know it will, and again, my world will be small. We aren’t even a couple, but we are friends, and for most players, their personal lives aren’t front and center. It’s mainly quarterbacks.

But do I want my world to remain small, or am I ready to make it large?

Could I do it?

Could I finally put my face out there?

“Hey,” Tyler says, moving to stand in front of me. I jump and let out a squeak as I wasn’t expecting him. Today, he had an offensive meeting and then his slotted time with physical therapy and the athletic trainers. “What’s got you so locked in your head that you didn’t even hear me come in?”

He takes a seat in the chair across from me and runs his hand over his hair as he settles in. He’s wearing his typical attire of a Tarpons T-shirt and athletic shorts, and he looks so good, every muscle in my stomach tightens. Dragging my eyes over his large perfect frame, I find familiar dark eyes watching me, and they look concerned.

“I got invited to do a release day book signing,” I tell him, and anxiety shoots through me just saying the words out loud.

His face lights up. “That’s great. Congratulations. Where is it?”

“A book shop in New York City.”

“NYC. Wow. I’m really proud of you,” he says, and while that anxiety does subside a little, my heart squeezes. This. This right here is what it’s supposed to be like when you tell someone something good that has happened. You tell your significant other, your friends, your family, whoever, and their joy for you is full-on evident. Happiness versus selfishness. The good things being embraced versus shot down and diminished. Celebrating you versus making it about them.

My eyes prick with heat because I know Tyler means it. The sincere smile on his face and the endearment in his eyes can’t be faked, and for the first time in my life, I’m feeling what support should feel like.

I look down at my hands, which are still holding my phone. It’s gone to sleep, and I can’t see the email, but I know it’s there. He’s so happy for me, but will he still be just as proud if I don’t go? If I decide I can never show my face?

“I don’t know if I can do it,” I say just loud enough so he can hear me.

“Why not?” he asks, leaning forward in his seat and studying me. His elbows are now on his knees, and his hands are clasped in front of him. I have his undivided attention, and it actually makes me calm and a little nervous at the same time too.

“I don’t know. It’s hard. I’ve spent so many years being invincible or at least trying to be, and then hiding this one thing because I wanted it for me, just me, that I don’t know if I can do it. Exposing myself to the world has never been part of the plan.”

At whatever turmoil Tyler sees on my face, he gets up and comes to sit next to me on the couch. Because I’m in the middle, the couch dips when he sits, and I sway toward him. He places his arm across the back of the couch, and his hand gently pushes on my shoulder so I lean into him. He smells like fabric softener, sporty deodorant, and Tyler. He’s warm and large as he surrounds me, and outside of that one and a half hug, this is the most physical contact and the closest we’ve been since I’ve been here.

I want to melt into him.

Letting out a deep sigh, we sit together curled up in silence while he lets me battle in my mind and pull my thoughts together. Naturally, my hand falls to his leg and rests on top of his thigh. His very muscular thigh. But then he breaks the silence.

“I hear what you’re saying. From what you’ve shared with me, I understand why you kept your identity to yourself before, but now you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Of course we’re all going to support whatever you decide, but I think it would be amazing for the world to get to know the Lily that I know. I know how you feel about your plans, but your plans have been changing, and you’ve been working on an updated version. Maybe this is part of your new plan.”

My new plan.

“Maybe. There’s just no going back once it’s out there.”

My fingertips run across the bottom edge of his shorts, and in return, his run up and down my arm, slipping under the sleeve of my shirt. Goose bumps scatter over half of me, and if he feels them, he doesn’t acknowledge them.

“What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not sure. It’s just somehow become this big thing. Do I have online author friends who show their face? Yes, but they’re not me. They weren’t dating one of the most well-known football players in the league.”

Tyler scoffs his disapproval.

“You know what I’m saying.”

“I do. But you’re no longer dating him, so you’re free to be whoever you want. You get to define yourself.”

“I have thought about it and what it would be like, but every time I think now might be a good time, I get worried that it’s not.”

“Why would now not be a good time?”

“Ty.” I twist to look up at him, but he keeps his arm wrapped around me. “I live with you. Look at everything that’s been posted over the past couple of weeks. If I do this, they will come for you, too.”

His lips press into a flat line, but then he releases them to breathe in and licks his bottom one. It’s shiny and wet, and what I wouldn’t give to be able to lean in and kiss it.

“Listen, I appreciate you thinking of me and giving me the heads-up of what might happen, but I promise you not only can I handle whatever is thrown at me but I’ve got you. I’ve got us. And for the record, your decisions about your career should never involve someone else. If this is what you want, then do it. If it’s not, then don’t.”

He’s got us. Does that mean there is an us? What I wouldn’t do to have that. Him and me.

“I know, and I’m getting there. It just feels really big at the moment.”

“I know you’ll make the right decision for you, but, Lily, good things are going to happen for you. I can feel it.” His hand lifts from my arm and slides over my shoulder to the nape of my neck, where his thumb swipes back and forth, and the ache for wanting him is so strong I want to turn around and slide right onto his lap.

“Thank you, Tyler. Thank you for everything.”

Silence again falls over us as we sit together on the couch. The hum of the fish tank fills the air, and it’s almost like white noise, and I find it soothing to my racing heart.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, glancing up at him. He’s so handsome that my stomach flips and flops. Teenage me would have died knowing that one day he was going to snuggle me on the couch and put his hands on me.

“Not yet, but I will be in an hour or so. Do we have dinner plans?”

“I was thinking of grilled salmon. Are you good to do that while I make a few things to go with it?”

“Grilled salmon sounds delicious. I just saw a new recipe with maple syrup, brown sugar, pineapple juice, and black peppercorns I’d like to try out.”

“Yum.”

One corner of his mouth turns up as he looks down at me.

“Curious, are you going to this week’s game too?”

“I was planning on it.”

“Good. Then I got you this.” He leans us forward, and from behind him, he pulls out a shirt that he must have tucked into his waistband. It’s a Tarpons shirt. He opens it, and sure enough, his name is across the back. He grins like the cat that got the canary.

“Ha. You know if I wear this, it won’t matter what we say to anyone. They’ll assume we’re together.”

“Ask me if I care about what others say?” he challenges.

“Do you care?”

“I don’t give a fuck. At all. The only people who matter here are you and me. They’re going to talk no matter what, so let’s give them something to talk about.”

I laugh. “You’re crazy.”

“Yep. We’re also playing the Destroyers.” He wags his brows like this excites him, and he wants to throw fuel on the fire.

“I know. I did see the schedule.”

“Are you okay seeing him?” He tilts his head and studies my face for a reaction.

“There’s nothing really to see. He’s someone I used to know and don’t anymore. I’m okay with this.”

“Is he going to be okay with this?”

“Probably not. But like you said, it doesn’t matter what other people think.”

His eyes flit back and forth between mine, and then his smile grows to where my heart skips a beat.

“Good.” He drops his head as he goes to stand, and his lips brush my forehead. They’re warm, and my skin bursts with tingles at the contact. Holy moly, I have it bad for this guy, but then again, maybe I always have.