She nodded. “I love Princeton. Plus, it makes sense since I live and work in New Jersey. My life’s here.”
“So, you grew up in Jersey?”
She opened her mouth to answer, then paused to think about her response. “We moved around a lot when I was a kid.”
“Where’d you go to high school?”
Her mind went blank, and, again, she stood there with her mouth hanging open while everyone waited for her answer.
“You don’t remember where you went to high school?” Manny asked, with a questioning smile. He motioned to the cup of beer in her hand. “I think you had enough.”
She uttered a jagged, self-conscious, very fake laugh and struggled to put her cup in the holder located on the arm of her chair without dropping it. “I went to Paramus. Paramus High School.”
“So, you’re from Bergen County?”
She thought about it, and then nodded. “I guess you could say that. I live in Mahwah, and I work in Paramus.”
“Cool.” A light flickered behind Manny’s eyes. “My sister-in-law is from Paramus. She’s about your age. I bet she went to Paramus High. Do you know Michelle Orlando?”
She stared at him blankly, heart racing. She told herself to calm down and breathe normally but she couldn’t do more than shrug.
“You don’t know if you know her or not?”
Thank God a football suddenly came flying into the middle of the group and interrupted the line of questioning about Amber’s personal life, because she didn’t know how to change the subject.
“Whoa!” Robert called, grabbing the ball that almost landed in the firepit and trying not to fall off his chair.
Two guys came running after the ball, but when they saw Robert was standing with it in his hands, they stopped and backed up a good 30 feet. “Throw it!” one of them shouted.
“You can’t catch a pass from Robert Blade!” Manny shouted back.
“I’ll go easy.” Robert swayed a little, but then steadied himself. He drew his right arm back, causing it to form a beautiful arc. Even the loose-fitting hoodie couldn’t hide the curve of his bicep as he threw the ball beautifully right into the guy’s waiting hands.
Robert’s phone buzzed, and he took it out of his pocket to look at the screen. “Damn.”
“Turning into a pumpkin?” Manny joked.
“Yeah. I told the driver to be back here at three.”
Amber couldn’t believe that it was three a.m. already and had to check the time on her own phone. Sadly, they said their goodbyes, but at least she had the rest of the night with a hunky, blond-haired, blue-eyed football player.
Amber rolled over, ready to wrap her arm around a gorgeous offensive lineman, but the bed was empty. She knew Robert had to leave for Tampa today and panicked. Bolting upright, she lunged toward the nightstand to check the time on her phone, and the room spun. Her hands immediately went to her temples, and she cringed while white and yellow spots flashed in front of her eyes. The dull throbbing in her head pulsed against her fingertips, and she groaned. It had been a long time since she woke up with a hangover, but it was worth it.
When her vision focused, she saw that she had several hours before a car was coming to take Robert to the airport, and she hadn’t missed saying goodbye to her man.Her man. It sounded foreign in her head. Not the idea that she had a man. The notion that her man was Robert Blade is what sent her heart hammering—in many ways.
The delicious smell of hazelnut in the air told her that he was in the kitchen making coffee. She desperately needed a cup. But, first, she needed to pull herself together. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, brushed her hair, swallowed two Aleve, and dabbed on some clear gloss. At least she looked better than she felt, but she’d get through it.
As she exited the bathroom, Robert was walking toward her.
“Morning,” he said, cheerfully, and offered her the cup of coffee in his hand.
She greedily took it from him and took three big gulps before returning the greeting. “Morning. And thank you for this.”
“I thought you’d need it, and I know you love hazelnut.” He put his arm around her as they walked to the kitchen. “I also made—”
“You made breakfast?” She didn’t know if she was more surprised that she was hungry or that he made breakfast.
“No.” He uttered a short laugh at the idea of cooking. “I made a smoothie. It’s the perfect cure for a hangover.”
